The Library Mice : Top Shelf, Third Book from the Left

By Paul West

Who is the mysterious Dr. Hoot What is the curse of the Molewhirtes Who or what is the O. G. R. And where is the Cornwall Find the answers to these questions and marvel at the consequences as you read about the adventures of Ambrose and his family the Library Mice who live high on a shelf in the library of Wildshott Hall the ancestral home of the Figg-Newton family. Delightfully illustrated throughout and complete with map which gives a birds eye view of our little hero's progress. Written in the much-loved style of 1930's and 40's children's literature but with a modern twist.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Mar 31, 2011
• ISBN: 9781447583875

Paul West

A naturally gifted spiritual medium, healer and student/teacher of A Course in Miracles, Paul has been listening to, writing and speaking the Voice For God (Holy Spirit) and Jesus for many years. He is a seasoned channeler, author and teacher. He has written more than 2 million words of articles on ACIM topics.He continues to apply the forgiveness principles of A Course in Miracles to his own life in awakening towards God, and works to help others to do the same. He has been a student of A Course in Miracles for over 20 years and has gained great insight into its teachings with the help of direct conversations with the Holy Spirit and Jesus.You are encouraged to have an open mind and heart as you listen to the words which have come through him, as an offering of clarity and healing and peace. Listen to your divine guidance and allow yourself to be lifted up into illumination. We are all awakening together. Love to you, today and every day!Visit online at www.miraculousliving.comThank you for buying my book. After receiving the book, please return and write a review/rating - your feedback is powerful in helping more people to develop trust, and is very much appreciated. Thank you.Paul.

Book preview

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CHAPTER ONE

THE DAY BEGINS

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Ambrose awoke with a start, sweat running down the back of his neck, his heart beating like a drum. At first he did not know where he was but, as the anxious drumming subsided, he became more aware of his surroundings and began to realize not only where he was but also who he was, which may seem rather confusing, as we shall see he was often unsure of such things. Like all good little mice – yes he was a mouse – he had spent the long, cold, dark winter months snug in his warm bed behind the books high up on a shelf in the library of Wildshott Hall. Wildshott was an ancient pile that had been constructed centuries before and was the ancestral home of the Figg–Newton family, whose current head was Sir Duddley Figg–Newton. He was a blustering character of immense proportions, who seemed to spend most of his time, clothed in his usual tweed attire, wandering around his vast family estate muttering to himself about this and that. The little mouse often saw Sir Duddley as he wandered through the corridors of his home. Of course, he was far too deep in thought to notice Ambrose or anyone else for that matter, but our fluffy friend saw him all right and was careful not to disclose his hiding place, alwas staying hidden in the shadows. Adventure was definitely the name of the game as the little mouse had spent most of his time leaping in and out of the darkness in an attempt to stay one step ahead of his adversaries – some real, but mostly imagined. Ambrose lived at Wildshott with his mother, sister Pretzel and brother Ellwood, they are known as THE LIBRARY MICE and their address is: TOP SHELF, THIRD BOOK FROM THE LEFT.

As the spring sunshine streamed in through the library window and warmly brushed over his fur, Ambrose yawned and stretched then, whilst trying to rub the sleep from his eyes, gazed drowsily at the now familiar things around him. Momentarily his thoughts drifted back to the dreamy sleep of winter. It wasn’t the kind of sleep one would expect, not a restful sleep all comfy, cosy and warm, but rather a disturbed sleep, full of troublesome dreams, of sharp things that hurt and of memories best forgotten. Even though they were uncomfortable dreams, Ambrose tried so hard to remember them, but try as he might (and he really did try), he just couldn’t.

Gradually, as his senses came back to him, he began to realize why his sleep had been so troubled. His father had disappeared last year leaving only his scarf behind. Mother said, It was all that evil Fustilugs’ fault! For Fustilugs the cat had been responsible for the demise of so many of the mice living at Wildshott Hall, but he had a particular dislike for Ambrose’s father and sought him with a fervour that some might call obsessive. This was because father was an extremely good provider, managing to produce all kinds of fine things snatched from the kitchen right under the cat’s nose. On several occasions Ambrose had accompanied his father on foraging expeditions through a kind of obstacle course stretching from the library shelf where they lived to the kitchens and beyond. Once when they ventured as far as the garden, they were almost discovered by Bodger the aged gardener as he approached their hiding place under the rim of a plant pot. They dashed inside again and scampered back into the great hall, along the panelled wainscoting into the corner of the library, making good their escape up through an old suit of armour which stood conveniently near their home behind the ancient volumes that lay on the shelves. Mother was furious with father for taking Ambrose with him because so many of their family had become victims of Fustilugs the evil cat.

You can smell his fishy breath long before he appears! said father by way of explanation.

By the time you smell his fishy breath it’s too late!! retorted mother who was always quick to respond to such follysome talk as she put it. When Ambrose remembered the times he had spent with his father, he felt an overwhelming sense of sadness at no longer being able to see him again. Mother cried for days and from then on she refused to discuss the matter or even mention father’s name. Pretzel and Ellwood seemed to adapt to life without father far easier than Ambrose did. All that he had as a reminder was father’s blue scarf, which he wore constantly, even in bed at night, for it seemed in some small way to be a comfort to him.

The warmth of the spring sunshine gave him a new sense of direction so that our hero (for as we shall see that is what he would eventually become) decided he would go in search of his father’s family, who lived many miles away from the familiar confines of Wildshott Hall. He knew little of his fathers’ relatives except that there were many of them: uncles, aunts, cousins, great cousins and second cousins twice removed. More like outlaws than in-laws! laughed father. Mother sucked her breath in with exasperation, for her own family, the Talmouse Clan, were very prim and proper. Fathers’ family, the entire Chumblemouse Clan (Chumblemouse being their family name), lived way across the countryside, beyond the vast expanse of Wildshott Woods, in a place called ‘The Cornwall.’

Our hero’s head was full of thoughts of his fathers’ family, when his mother woke him up to the more immediate necessities of life.

Ambrose, time for breakfast! came her voice, accompanied by the clatter of cups and plates. Time to get up you lazy lump! She shouted, and don’t forget to wash behind your ears before you come down for your breakfast!" … (What is it about mothers and ears?).

If I wash them anymore they’ll disappear! he replied playfully, skipping down the stairs. Entering the room he noticed that his brother Ellwood was up to his usual tricks acting the fool and pulling faces.

Don’t do that at the table! cried mother, if the wind changes your face will stick, and then where will you be? Ambrose shook his head, for his mother often said things that puzzled him. Pretzel picked at her food and sniggered, so Ellwood poked her in the ear. Ambrose smiled to himself as he realized how good it was to be here safe and sound in the bosom of his family. In fact, things seemed so normal that he almost forgot about the big adventure that he was about to embark upon. These cheerful reminders and the love that he felt for his family would be of great support to him in the uncertain times that lay ahead.

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CHAPTER TWO

FEARSOME FUSTILUGS COMETH

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Adventure beckoned our little hero, yet the vast unknown that stretched before him along with the thought of leaving his mother made him feel very vulnerable indeed. Even the constant bickering of his siblings seemed preferable to what lay ahead, for the uncertainty of the great out there made his spine tingle with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. Not that the thought of adventure frightened him, it was just that he had little doubts that niggled away at the back of his mind, questioning his ability to cope with things outside of his family situation, (after