The Flying Mouse: Difference between revisions
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'''1'''
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On the edge of a large vegetable garden, there sat an old ramshackle tool shed. Although its paint was cracked and peeling and its weathered cedar shingles were marked with patches of moss and lichen, its owner still maintained it enough to prevent its complete collapse.
▲''' 2'''
In one corner of the shed near the worktable, there was a hole, and in that hole lived a deer mouse family. There was a mother and father and their four small mouselings, Bluebell, Anemone, Nuttal, and Merton.
▲''' 3'''
They weren't like the messy, mundane mice of the human towns and cities, nor was their hole a nasty smelling one with shredded bits of Kleenex and newspaper for bedding, and a careless jumble of food for a pantry.
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It was a very comfortable dwelling: wooden floor and woven carpets, a sitting room, a kitchen, a bathroom, bedrooms with bunks and match beds, closets, and several storerooms (each one devoted to a certain food).
▲''' 4'''
Bluebell, Anemone, and Nuttal were helpful little mice, always quick to do the household chores such as sweeping and dusting, washing the dishes, and gathering firewood or winter supplies.
▲''' 5'''
Yet Merton (who was the middle child) would often lag behind his assigned tasks. It wasn't that he didn't like to work or didn't know how to do anything. It was just that things like beetles, ant-hills, fat, fuzzy caterpillars, and bumblebee nests easily distracted Merton. Instead of making himself useful, he would explore or chat with the various meadow and forest people. Sometimes he would play games with them, marbles or cards with tiny beads to serve as poker chips.
▲''' 6'''
Merton also liked to collect things: broken bits of colored glass and crockery, twisted pieces of wood, empty snail shells, bundles of strings. Among his most treasured possessions was his collection of feathers, several sketch pads, and various books on flying machines and the flight of birds.
Flying fascinated him greatly. Whenever he spied an insect or bird, he wished to fly like them, to be able to spread his arms and sail off. He studied these creatures attentively, sketching down every detail of their wings. The birds liked him, and would pose quietly as he examined their wings and feathers. The insects found him a nuisance. He was always catching them and tying them to sticks and strings so that he could see how their wings moved. However, being a very kind mouse, he always released them after he was done.
'''7'''
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So worried was the mother about her son that she watched him constantly from the knothole windows. When she was too busy with other things, she asked his older sisters to watch him.
▲''' 8'''
His sisters also disapproved of his solitary wanderings and attempts at flying. Although they were twins, being about the same size and cinnamon color, they differed in disposition. They also had different solutions for Merton's follies.
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However, in spite of their efforts, Merton still stuck to his one goal, to be the very first flying mouse.
▲''' 9'''
It was June, shortly before the annual midsummer festival. Merton and Nuttal were bringing a present of beetle biscuits for their Aunt Olive.
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Since the kite's wings were tattered and full of holes, it soon lost strength and he parachuted to earth. To Nuttal's relief and amazement, Merton, though somewhat shaken, was not hurt. After delivering the present to their aunt, they then carried the kite home, hiding it behind some flower pots.
'''10'''
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They set about repairing the kite, using whatever scrap of cloth or wood they could find. Just looking for enough material made work slow, but two weeks of hard labor resulted in a large glider with a movable harness. Although it didn't resemble a pterodactyl, it was better than nothing. For the finishing touches, Merton made himself a reptilian-looking mask and diamond-shaped rudder to fit on his tail.
'''11'''
They found a nearby hill as an ideal spot for their gliding tests. It was high, had steady winds, and was absent of obstacles like trees and buildings. On the day of the high flight, the sun was shining and the sky was a clear diamond-blue. A crowd of small creatures gathered on the hilltop to watch the mouse fly.
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When she grabbed Merton by the arm, all his happy dreams were shattered, and he was jolted back to reality. Without saying a word, she took each brother by an ear and led them straight home.
'''12'''
The parents were waiting impatiently at the front door. Bluebell had told them everything. Though they scolded both brothers harshly, it was Merton who got the most blame. Mom complained about him dodging work and leading little Nuttal astray. Dad complained about his daydreams becoming dangerous, and making everything late in preparing for the Midsummer Fest.
'''13'''
Merton and Nuttal were kept busy with work. They had to clean the house, help prepare the party food, work out the number of chairs and tables needed for the guests, and make large, colorful party decorations.
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"Now you listen to me for a bit," said Anemone, firmly. "Remember, you're a mouse! So take my advice, drop all this foolishness for flying and stay right here on the ground. There are plenty of things here to see and do, and it's a good place to be, unlike the sky with its storms and hooked beaks!"
'''14'''
Morosely, Merton went to help Nuttal with polishing the furniture. His brother looked up from his work.
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"Maybe," said Merton, hopefully.
'''15'''
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Finally, he slipped away from his task as butler, and peeked at the guests' many gifts. He almost wept from anger and disappointment, for although the packages were full of treats and trinkets, not one was a great winged kite.
'''16'''
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Sadly, he went to his room. It was then he noticed that his entire collection of feathers and flying books were gone. Only his sketchbooks remained, the thief having deemed them as unimportant.
"Oh those," said Bluebell, dismissively, when he went to her to complain. "Mom made me hide
Merton then ran up into the attic of the shed. There he sat, all by himself, thinking how he was still unable to fly. Was he to remain forever an ordinary earthbound mouse? Was his flying to be done only in his dreams?
'''17'''
"Hello, little mouse," a voice said.
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After saying goodbye, he hurried back home with a joyful heart.
'''18'''
From that day on, Merton followed the same routine. Each morning he rose very early and hurried up to the attic. There he would find the parts for the glider- some sticks, a bit of horsehair, a few feathers. These he carefully hid behind an old wooden crate. As his collection grew, he began assembling the pieces together. Since he no longer had his flying books to refer to, he had to rely on his sketchbooks and the bat's advice.
'''19'''
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As a result, the glider's framework was bat like. However, this difference was hidden away by an outside layering of carefully sewn fabric and feathers.
'''20'''
"I suppose I could launch it out the attic window," said Merton, thoughtfully.
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"Question is," Merton wondered, "how am I going to sneak the glider outside without anyone seeing it?"
'''21'''
Unfortunately, Merton didn't have time to puzzle over this problem; he had to go to school. It wasn't till after he got home, that he finally figured out a solution. He decided that the best thing to do would be to lower the glider out the window by means of a rope and basket. He had no trouble locating a basket. There were several scattered throughout the attic. He chose one that was light and easy to carry. The rope presented a problem, however. It was too heavy and awkward to move. So, he had to make do with a roll of package twine instead.
'''22'''
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"Why didn't tell me you were going to make a second glider?" he exclaimed. "I could have helped you get all the stuff like before?"
"
"Well, how come you get to have all the fun then?" Nuttal whispered back. "And I get stuck inside having to do crummy chores and multiplication tables?"
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"Who?" Nuttal asked suspiciously.
"Melinda," Merton answered. "She's a bat who lives in the attic."
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"Don't worry," Merton assured him. "It won't."
'''23'''
As soon as Nuttal saw the finished glider, his eyes lit up. Then he suggested that they should try it out far away from home this time. Merton, with Nuttal's assistance, carried the glider into the hills. It was very difficult for them because of the steep terrain and their really short legs.
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Finally they climbed up a hill that seemed to go straight up into the sky. Just when they though it would go on forever, they reached the top.
'''24'''
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After resting a bit, they got the glider ready. Merton strapped himself into the harness and grabbed hold of the guide bar. Just as Nuttal was doing some last minute checking on the wings, a sudden rush of wind came. Knocked off his feet, Nuttal gave a startled squeak as the glider soared straight into the sky.
"Help! Stop! Let me down!" Merton shouted, but the glider continued flying upward.
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"Help! Somebody!" Merton cried, but except for some curious sparrows there was no one to hear him.
'''
Back on the ground, Nuttal was pacing back and forth, wringing his ears in despair. "I've got to think of something!" he mumbled to himself. "I've got to save him, but how? I don't even know where he went!"
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Nuttal ran pell-mell down the hill, stumbling and puffing until he found his way back to his valley home.
'''26'''
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"Not yet," said Merton, trying to sound brave. "Teach me to fly first."
▲ '''27'''
Then the Snalleygaster began to school him in the art of flying. Soon he was swooping like a swallow with the wind buffeting his face and streaming past his wings. Merton laughed and shouted with sheer delight as he spiraled and swooped in the sunlight. The Snalleygaster warned him that he should not exert himself; flying was dangerous, especially for a novice. Reluctantly, Merton returned to his perch on her back, and in that fashion he was flown back home.
'''28'''
Merton gave the Snalleygaster directions to his home and she soon had it in view, from a height of two thousand feet. The Snalleygaster announced her arrival by going into a steep dive and pulling out, with a tremendous "whoosh" right over the tool shed. She then began a series of barrel rolls while making a loud "oogah" sound, like a lighthouse foghorn.
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Then the whole family watched as the Snalleygaster walked down the field, turned to face the wind and began a flapping run which soon had her airborne, and she flew off toward the setting sun.
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