The Mouse’s Revenge. 249

to say, and the poor Mouse would wake up,
shivering with terror.

“Suppose it is nine o'clock,” he would sob;
“you can’t prevent its being nine o'clock, and
what are you going to do about it?” But it had
a heart of iron and was not touched.

One evening, the Mouse climbed directly on
the Bell itself, and sat there admiring the sunset.
He became drowsy, and quite forgetting where he
was, fell fast asleep. He was awakened by a
most horrible noise. He felt the ground, as he
thought, rock beneath him. Suddenly he remem-
bered where he was, that it was nine o'clock, and
that the Bell was beginning its nightly duty !

“Clang, clang,” it said.

The poor Mouse jumped frantically from one
side to the other, and screamed :

“Stop, stop, let me get off!’ but it did not
stop, and, at last, becoming dizzy, he staggered—
lost his footing—and /el//

Down, down, down he went, striking on the
stone floor of the tower, many feet below. He
was not killed, but he was much bruised. All