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    Little Downy: The History of A Field-Mouse
    Little Downy: The History of A Field-Mouse
    Little Downy: The History of A Field-Mouse
    Ebook67 pages46 minutes

    Little Downy: The History of A Field-Mouse

    By Catharine Parr Strickland Traill

    ()

    Read preview
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherArchive Classics
    Release dateNov 15, 2013
    Little Downy: The History of A Field-Mouse

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      Book preview

      Little Downy - Catharine Parr Strickland Traill

      The Project Gutenberg EBook of Little Downy, by Catharine Parr Traill

      This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with

      almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or

      re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included

      with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net

      Title: Little Downy

      The History of A Field-Mouse

      Author: Catharine Parr Traill

      Release Date: November 12, 2008 [EBook #27239]

      Language: English

      *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LITTLE DOWNY ***

      Produced by Louise Hope, David Edwards, Marcia Brooks &

      the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at

      http://www.pgdpcanada.net

      Missing quotation marks have been left unchanged for flavor. Obvious typographical errors have been corrected. They are marked in the text with mouse-hover popups

      , along with some possible errors that were not corrected.

      Spellings such as recal and befel, and eat as a past-tense form, are unchanged. The author almost always uses lay (present) for lie, and laid for lay (past); no attempt was made to correct these forms.

      Front Cover Text

      Mrs. Clifford relating to her son Alfred,

      the history of the Field-Mouse.

      LITTLE DOWNY;

      OR,

      THE HISTORY

      OF

      A FIELD-MOUSE.

      A MORAL TALE.

      EMBELLISHED

      WITH TWELVE COLORED ENGRAVINGS.

      LONDON:

      Printed for

      A. K. NEWMAN and Co. LEADENHALL-STREET.

      1822.

      THE LIFE AND INTERESTING ADVENTURES

      OF A

      FIELD MOUSE.

      "What is my little Alfred crying for? asked his mother, Mrs. Clifford, as she entered the room where Alfred stood weeping by the table. Come here, and tell me what is the matter with you.

      Alfred slowly advanced towards his mother, and wiped away his tears with her apron. Alfred was but a little boy, or he would not have cried for such a simple thing as he did.

      Well, Alfred, and what is it? asked his kind mamma.

      Why, mamma, you know that nice plum cake you gave me for saying my lesson well; I had put it in the cupboard, as I did not want to eat it then, and I came just now to take a little nibble at it; and when I opened the closet-door to look for it, there was an ugly brown mouse in the closet, and hardly a scrap of my cake left; that greedy thing had eaten it all but a few crumbs. And here Alfred’s tears flowed afresh.

      I am very sorry, my dear child, that the mouse has eaten your cake; but still, I do not think it was worth shedding so many tears about: you must learn to bear such trifling disappointments with more patience. I dare say, the mouse has eaten my sugar and cake, but I shall not cry if it has.

      I am sure it is enough to make any one cry, (said Alfred). I only wish, (added he, his eyes sparkling with anger), that I could have killed the little beast for stealing my cake.

      Now, Alfred, I am ashamed of you, said his mother gravely.

      Alfred could, however, think of nothing but the loss of his cake, and begged his mother to let the mouse-trap be set to catch the mischievous intruder.

      Mrs. Clifford was very sorry to hear her little son talk so, and she represented to him his cruelty in wanting to take away the life of a poor mouse only for having satisfied its hunger.

      But, mamma, mice do a deal of mischief, (said Alfred), and ought to be killed; for that mouse will soon eat up all your sugar.

      But, Alfred; I know a certain two-legged mouse, who, if I left the key in my store-closet, would eat more sugar in one minute than this poor little animal could in an hour.

      Alfred hung his head at this reproof, for it was but a day or two since

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