inally he bought it,
cat-stairs, dog-stairs, cupboards, garden and all.

[Illustration]

Now this gentleman happened to be Uncle Jack, the uncle and guardian of
the Five Mice, whose father and mother were dead; and then it was, when
he came to live in it with his five nephews and nieces, and Mrs. Posset
the nurse, and Susan the cook, and Thomas the gardener, then it was, I
say, that the old Junk-shop, as the villagers called it was turned into
the most delightful house in the world, which I call my MOUSE-TRAP.

[Illustration:
NIBBLE
BRIGHTEYES
FLUFF
PUFF
AND
DOWNY]

CHAPTER III.

THE MICE.

[Illustration]

NIBBLE, Brighteyes, Fluff, Puff, and Downy the baby. There are the names
of the mice, all written out nicely for you, and there in a corner is a
glimpse of the mouse-trap. Of course the children have real names, just
like other children; but I have given them mouse-names, which I very
much prefer to Harry and Bessie, and--but oh! dear, I didn't mean to
tell you any of their real names. Nibble is the oldest. He is now a fine
bright boy-mouse of twelve, but when he first came to the mouse-trap he
was only eight years old, and Brighteyes, the oldest girl-mouse, was
seven. Then came Fluff and Puff, the twins, who were just five, and
Downy the baby, a fat little fellow of three. You see their ages were
quite near enough for them all to be great friends and playmates, and so
they were. I never shall forget the day they came. It was a fine bright
day in May, and Spring was just awake in the old garden. The short new
grass was like emerald; the old gnarled apple-trees, which certainly
did look like Jonas Junk when their branches were bare, had lost all
trace of such likeness, for each was crowned with a pink and white
snowdrift of blossoms. Down in the neglected flower-beds the crocuses
and snowdrops were nodding and whispering to each other. "Yes," they
said, "some new people are coming to live in the old house, and there
are children among them. Mr. Breeze, the postman, knows all about them,
but he could not stop to tell us much this morning, for he was in a
hurry. Now we shall be cared for, and watered, and there will be some
pleasure in blossoming. When the children come, we will tell them how
those vulgar weeds pushed and crowded us last year." And they did tell
the children, but children do not understand flower-talk, I find. And
yet it