m the railway with
confiscated goods to the town council-hall, and there I ran to the
jailer. He spoke of his prisoners, especially of one of them, who had
uttered some very imprudent words; and when these had been repeated,
and written down and read, 'The whole,' said he, 'was only--soup of a
sausage-stick; but that soup may cost him dear.' I felt interested in
the prisoner," continued the little mouse, "and I watched for an
opportunity to go in where he was. There is always a mouse-hole behind
locked doors. He looked very pale, had a dark beard, and large shining
eyes. The lamp smoked; but the walls were accustomed to this. They did
not turn any blacker. The prisoner was scratching on them both
pictures and verses; but I did not read the latter. I fancy he was
tired of being alone, for I was a welcome guest. He enticed me with
crumbs of bread, with his flute, and kind words. He was so happy with
me! I put confidence in him, and we became friends. He shared with me
bread and water, and gave me cheese and sausages. I lived luxuriously;
but it was not alone the good cheer that detained me. He allowed me to
run upon his hand and arm all the way up to his shoulder; he allowed
me to creep into his beard, and called me his little friend. I became
very dear to him, and our regard was mutual. I forgot my errand out in
the wide world; I forgot my sausage-stick in a crevice in the floor;
and there it still lies. I wished to remain where I was; for, if I
left him, the poor prisoner would have nothing to care for in this
world. I remained; but he, alas! did not. He spoke to me so sadly for
the last time, gave me a double allowance of bread and cheese parings,
kissed his finger to me, and then he was gone--gone, never to return.
I do not know his history. 'Soup of a sausage-stick!' said the jailer,
and I went to him; but I was wrong to trust in him. He took me up,
indeed, in his hand; but he put me in a cage, a treadmill. That was
hard work--jumping and jumping without getting on a bit, and only to
be laughed at.

"The jailer's grandchild was a pretty little fellow, with waving hair
as yellow as gold, sparkling, joyous eyes, and a laughing mouth.

"'Poor little mouse!' he exclaimed, peeping in at my horrid cage, and
at the same time drawing up the iron pin that closed it.

"I seized the opportunity, and sprang first to the window-ledge, and
thence to the conduit-pipe. Free, free! that was all I could think of,
and not the object