Forget-Me-Not Lake

Mouse Life
Sophie Mouse skipped around the toadstool table. She added a carved-twig spoon to each of the four place settings.

“Napkin on the left, Winston,” she told her little brother as they set the table for dinner. “Spoon on the right.”

“Okay, Sophie,” replied Winston. “Wait. Which side is left again?”

Sophie tried to be patient as she reminded him. She took a deep breath. Her nose twitched. Her whiskers quivered with glee. Delicious aromas filled the Mouse family’s house in the hollow of a big oak tree.



Sophie’s father, George Mouse, was at the stove. He was stirring a big pot of radish soup.

Sophie’s mother, Lily Mouse, peeked into the oven. She was trying out a new recipe—clover and juniper berry cake.

Sophie came over to look at the cake too. “We should probably try it before you add it to the bakery menu.” She smiled sweetly at her mother. “Don’t you think?”



Lily Mouse owned the only bakery in Pine Needle Grove. She was known for making the most delicious cakes and pastries—often with unexpected ingredients.

Lily Mouse smiled back at Sophie. “Yes, of course,” she said. “We will all have a test piece—after dinner!”

Before long, the soup was ready. George Mouse ladled it into walnut-shell bowls. Then all four mice sat down for Friday night dinner.



As they slurped their soup, Sophie and Winston had lots to tell about their week at school. Mrs. Wise, their teacher at Silverlake Elementary, had assigned the students a fun project.



“We have to prepare a presentation about our own species,” Sophie explained. “The frog students will talk about frogs. The birds will talk about birds. And the mice will talk about mice. Next week, we’ll each give our presentations to the class. It’s to help us learn more about one another.”



Winston’s eyes were wide with excitement. “And since we’re both mice, Sophie and I get to work together!” he added.

Winston was six years old. It was the first year he was old enough to come to school at the schoolhouse.

“Winston suggested we say that mice are fast and can scurry places quickly,” Sophie pointed out.



“And Sophie said we should talk about how we’re small and can fit into tiny spaces,” Winston added.



George Mouse smiled. “Very true,” he said. “Can you think of other things we mice are good at?”

Sophie and Winston thought it over. Winston put his elbow on the table and rested his chin in his hand. Sophie gazed out the window, puzzling over the question.



But neither one could think of anything. Something was distracting them. They both sniffed the air.

Their whiskers twitched.

They looked at each other. Then they shouted it out together.

“The cake is ready!”