“Thank goodness the barn door had been closed and the cat trapped inside. There were few advantages to being three inches high, and even fewer when you were three inches high and growing at such a rate as to make your mouse costume nearly choke you before you’d had enough time to do what it was you had to do and then slip away unsuspected. He should have borrowed a different costume, that was the truth of it, something cats hated. He’d found his way to the river, though, out behind Willoughby’s ...farm, and he’d hitched a ride downstream on a log, climbing ashore unseen, thank goodness, and finding rags of clothes in the taxidermist’s. They fitted him now like the clothes of an ordinary man would fit a midget – which was exactly the case, of course. He’d started to grow in earnest, and if he hung round for another hour they’d fit better, but he wasn’t concerned with fashion; he had things to do and he hadn’t much time left to do them in. He’d sneaked down to the wharves and scraped tar from the pilings, and he’d got dandelions easily enough from the yard.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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