The Singing Mouse Stories
本书摘录:
The Land Of The Singing Mouse
_ This is my room. I live here; and my friends come here sometimes, such as I have left. There is little to offer them, but they are welcome to what there is. There is the table. There is the fire. There are not any keys.
That is my coat upon the wall. It is worn, a little. The barrels of the old gun are worn; and the stock of the rifle, broken in the mountains long ago, is mended but rudely; and the tip of the old rod is broken, and the silk is fraying in the lashings, and upon the hand-grasp the cord is loose. The silver cord will loosen and break in the best of men in time; wherefore, I beseech you, mock not at these belongings, though your own may far surpass them. You are welcome to anything there is here....
But the Singing Mouse will not come out, not while you are here. True, after you have gone, after the fire has burned down and the room is all still--usually near midnight, as I sit and muse alone over the dead or dying fire--true, the
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