gether." Then she went to the Post, and demanded her Fish back
again. "I gave him to you," said Mousie, "and you are responsible for
him."

Said the Post, "I am very sorry that I cannot give you back your Fish,
but I will give you some Wood."

Mousie was grateful for this kindness on the part of the Post. So she
took a piece of Wood in exchange for the Fish.

Mousie and the Wood went off to buy some sweets at the Confectioner's.
While Mousie was eating the sweets, the Confectioner's wife burnt the
Wood in the fire.

Mousie finished the sweets, and when she turned round to look for her
Wood, lo and behold it was gone. With tears in her eyes she begged the
Confectioner's wife to give her back the Wood, but the Confectioner's
wife said--

"I am very sorry I cannot give you back the Wood, because it is burnt;
but I will give you some Cakes instead."

This made Miss Mousie happy again, and she took the Cakes. Then she paid
a visit to the Shepherd's pen; and while she was talking to the
Shepherd, a Goat ate up her cakes.

"Give me back my Cakes, Mr. Shepherd," said Mousie, not seeing the Cakes
anywhere.

"I'm very sorry I can't do that," answered the Shepherd, "because I am
afraid one of my goats has eaten them; but if you like, you may have a
Kid instead."

This was better and better. Mousie was charmed with her Kid and led it
off to the music-shop, where she had to pay a bill. While the man was
writing a receipt to the bill, his wife killed the Kid, and began to
roast it for dinner. Mousie looked round, and wanted to know where her
Kid was?

"I rather think," said the Music-man, "that the nice odour of roast meat
which tickles your nostrils, comes from that Kid. I'm sorry I can't give
you the Kid back, but you may have the best drum in my shop."

Mousie did not like the Drum so well as her Kid; but needs must, and she
picked out a drum, and went away with it on her shoulder. By-and-by she
came to a place where women were beating rice, to get the grains away
from the husk. She hung up her Drum on a peg, while she watched the
women husking the rice. Bang! flap! a woman drove her pestle right
through the Drum.

Poor Mousie. It seemed as if her misfortunes would never end. When she
asked the woman for her Drum again, there it was, burst. The tears ran
down her cheeks.

"We are very sorry," the women all said, "that we cannot give you back
your Drum; but you can have a Girl instead, if you like."

T