"Do you allude to any special mouse?"
"I do, ma'am. I allude to the Mouse that has helped to make Madame and
self what we are."
Sir Tiglath began to roll about in his chair preparatory to some
deliverance, and Mrs. Merillia, casting a somewhat agitated glance at
her grandson, answered,--
"Really. I did not know that anything so small could have so much
influence."
"It may be small, ma'am," said Mr. Sagittarius. "But to a sensitive
nature it often seems gigantic."
"You mean at night, I suppose? Does it disturb you very much?"
"We hear it, ma'am, but it lulls us to rest."
"Indeed. That is very fortunate. I fear it might keep me awake."
"So we thought at first. But now we should miss it. Should we not,
Sophronia?"
"Doubtless," replied Madame, arranging a napkin carefully over her
fichu, and dealing rigorously with some mayonnaise sauce. "It has been
our perpetual companion for many years, _mus amicus humano generi_."
Sir Tiglath swelled, and Mrs. Merillia responded,--
"I see, a pet. Is it white?"
"No, ma'am," returned Mr. Sagittarius, "it is a rich, chocolate brown
except on wet days. Then it takes on the hue of a lead pencil.
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