ONCE upon a time a fat sleek Rat was caught in a shower of rain, and being far from shelter he set to work and soon dug a nice hole in the ground, in which he sat as dry as a bone while the raindrops splashed outside, making little puddles on the road. Now in the course of his digging he came upon a fine bit of root, quite dry and fit for fuel, which he set aside carefully–for the Rat is an economical creature–in order to take it home with him. So when the shower was over, he set off with the dry root in his mouth. As he went along, daintily picking his way through the puddles, he saw a poor man vainly trying to light a fire, while a little circle of children stood by, and cried piteously.
-Goodness gracious!- exclaimed the Rat, who was both soft-hearted and curious, -what a dreadful noise to make! What is the matter?-
-The bairns are hungry,- answered the man; -they are crying for their breakfast, but the sticks are damp, the fire won-t burn, and so I can-t bake the cakes.-
-If that is all your trouble, perhaps I can help you,- said the good-natured Rat; -you are welcome to this dry root, and I-ll warrant it will soon make a fine blaze.-
The poor man, with a thousand thanks, took the dry root, and in his turn presented the Rat with a morsel of dough, as a reward for his kindness and generosity.
-What a remarkably lucky fellow I am!- thought the Rat, as he trotted off gaily with his prize, -and clever too! Fancy making a bargain like that–food enough to last me five days in return for a rotten old stick! Wah! wah! wah! what it is to have brains!-
Going along, hugging his good fortune in this way, he came presently to a potter-s yard, where the potter, leaving his wheel to spin round by itself, was trying to pacify his three little children, who were screaming and crying as if they would burst.
-My gracious!- cried the Rat, stopping his ears, -what a noise!–do tell me what it is all about.-
-I suppose they are hungry,- replied the potter ruefully; -their mother has gone to get flour in the bazaar, for there is none in the house. In the meantime I can neither work nor rest because of them.-
-Is that all!- answered the officious Rat; -then I can help you. Take this dough, cook it quickly, and stop their mouths with food.-
-Goodness gracious!- exclaimed the Rat, who was both soft-hearted and curious, -what a dreadful noise to make! What is the matter?-
-The bairns are hungry,- answered the man; -they are crying for their breakfast, but the sticks are damp, the fire won-t burn, and so I can-t bake the cakes.-
-If that is all your trouble, perhaps I can help you,- said the good-natured Rat; -you are welcome to this dry root, and I-ll warrant it will soon make a fine blaze.-
The poor man, with a thousand thanks, took the dry root, and in his turn presented the Rat with a morsel of dough, as a reward for his kindness and generosity.
-What a remarkably lucky fellow I am!- thought the Rat, as he trotted off gaily with his prize, -and clever too! Fancy making a bargain like that–food enough to last me five days in return for a rotten old stick! Wah! wah! wah! what it is to have brains!-
Going along, hugging his good fortune in this way, he came presently to a potter-s yard, where the potter, leaving his wheel to spin round by itself, was trying to pacify his three little children, who were screaming and crying as if they would burst.
-My gracious!- cried the Rat, stopping his ears, -what a noise!–do tell me what it is all about.-
-I suppose they are hungry,- replied the potter ruefully; -their mother has gone to get flour in the bazaar, for there is none in the house. In the meantime I can neither work nor rest because of them.-
-Is that all!- answered the officious Rat; -then I can help you. Take this dough, cook it quickly, and stop their mouths with food.-
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