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Bring the black horse, bring the red sleigh
Miss Rose-bud her-self goes rid-ing to-day!
Once on a time—the story-
book time when an-i-mals wore
clothes and could talk—there
were three mod-el mice. Their
names were Gray Cloak, Fine
Ear and Sat-in Slip-per.
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Sat-in Slip-per had a spoon of
her own, Fine Ear had a knife,
and Gray Cloak owned a fork.
One day they thought they
would club the knife and the
fork and the spoon to-geth-er,
and keep house. As they
were mod-el mice, they eas-i-ly
a-greed where to live. They
chose Farm-er Jones' cel-lar,
be-cause there were bar-rels of
ap-ples, bas-kets of eggs, and
shelves loaded with good-ies,
and an egg, or an ap-ple, or a
stray cake would not be missed.
"I lived once," said Gray
Cloak, "in the cel-lar of a
wom-an who bought by the
doz-en or the dime's worth,
and she missed the least lit-
tle thing at once, so that fi-
nal-ly I left in dis-gust."
Such good times as those
three mice had! The cel-lar
had a smooth, wa-ter-limed
floor, a beau-ti-ful place to play
mar-bles, blind-man's-buff and,
Kit-ty-kit-ty-cor-ner. They al-
ways ate from the same egg,
and as Farm-er Jones kept his
cats at the barn, there was
noth-ing to spoil their com-
fort for many years.
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