Molly and the Mouse
by Maurine Hathaway
Five -year-old Mollie
Was holding her dollie
In the shade at the side of the house,
When what should she spy,
In the path running by,
But a poor little mite of a mouse.
With a wild, frantic shout,
Mollie quickly leaped out
Of the pathway and ran in a fright
To her mother and cried,
“There’s a mousie outside;
Get a trap that will catch it to-night.”
Mother said, as she smiled,
“Why, you dear little child,
Mousie never would hurt you a bit,
And I’m sure, if you knew,
‘Twas more frightened at you
Than you could have been frightened at it.”
And her words were quite true,
For that mouse fairly flew
To it’s mother who lived in the wall,
And she squeaked “Mother dear,”
As she trembled with fear,
“There’s a girl out there frightfully tall.”
”Ha, ha,” laughed Mother Mouse,
As she tidied her house,
”Did you run away home just for that?
What I thought had occurred,
When your scream I first heard,
Was that you’d seen a fierce pussy cat.”