Читать книгу Merry Mister Meddle! - Enid blyton - Страница 3

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“These tiresome mice!” said Meddle’s Aunt Jemima, looking into the larder. “They’ve been all over the place, look! Nibbling this, that and the other.”

“What about getting a cat, Aunt?” asked Meddle. “Wouldn’t that be a good idea? She’d soon get rid of the mice for you.”

“You know I don’t like cats,” said his aunt. “Now, Meddle, I’m going out to tea, so please behave yourself till I come back again. I’ll be back about eight, and we’ll have supper then.”

Off she went. Meddle heaved a sigh of relief when she had gone. Aunt Jemima was always finding fault with him. It was nice to be able to sit down and put his feet up on the mantelpiece and read a book and eat as many peppermints as he liked.

As he sat there reading, he heard a scrabbling sound from the larder. Those mice again!

Meddle put down his book and thought.

“What about a mouse-trap?” he said. “I know where there is one—out in the shed. I’ll get it and set it with a bit of bacon and a bit of cheese. I’ll catch those mice for Aunt Jemima. Won’t she be pleased?”

He went to fetch the trap. As he came out of the shed with it, the large black cat from next door came up to him and rubbed against his legs.

“Puss, Puss,” said Meddle and bent to stroke the cat. Then a bright idea came to him.

“Puss, would you like to sit in our larder and catch a few mice?” he asked. The cat purred. She went indoors with Meddle, and sat down by the fire to wash herself.

“I’ll just set this trap, Puss,” said Meddle, “and then you can go into the larder with it. What with you and the trap, the mice will have a very bad time!”

He went to the larder. He took the cheese from the dish and broke a bit off. He put it in the trap. Then he unwrapped the bacon and cut a bit of fat from it. He put that on the hook too, and then carefully set the trap. He put it down on the floor.

“There!” he said. “If that doesn’t catch a mouse I’ll be surprised!”

He forgot to put the lid back on the cheese-dish. He forgot to wrap the bacon up again. Meddle could never think of little things like that!

He called to the cat. “Here, Puss! Come and watch for mice here. Come along.”

The cat didn’t come. So Meddle went and fetched her and put her firmly down in the larder. Then he shut the door.

It was cold in the larder. The cat didn’t like it. She didn’t care about mice either, for she was well-fed and never bothered herself to catch them. She mewed and scratched at the door.

“You catch a few mice, and I’ll let you out!” said Meddle, and put his feet up on the mantelpiece again. The cat seemed to settle down and there was no sound of either mouse or cat from the larder.

Meddle made himself some tea after a bit and got the biscuit-tin. He wasn’t going to bother to cut himself bread-and-butter! He finished all the biscuits in the tin. Then he washed up his tea-things, and went back to read again. But he fell fast asleep, and only woke up when he heard his Aunt Jemima coming in.

“Oh, dear, dear!” she said. “I missed the bus, and it’s half-past eight and I’m so hungry. Why, Meddle, you haven’t even set the supper! Lay the cloth, quickly.”

She stood before the mirror to take off her hat. Suddenly there came a loud noise from the larder.

“CRASH!”

“Whatever’s that?” cried Aunt Jemima.

“Oh—I set a mouse-trap there for you,” said Meddle. “I expect that’s the trap catching a mouse!”

“What—a crash like that!” cried his aunt. “Oh, my goodness—there’s another crash—and look, there’s milk flowing out under the door! Mice indeed!”

She ran to the larder door and opened it. Out shot the big black cat, jumped out of the window and disappeared. Aunt Jemima stared in horror at the larder.

“How did that cat get in here? Oh, my goodness, it’s eaten the meat-pie I left for supper—and the fish for breakfast—and it’s gobbled up the custard I put ready—and it’s upset the milk—and look at all this chewed bacon and nibbled cheese! How DID that cat get in here?”

Then she gave a scream. The mouse-trap had gone off and nipped her toe. “What’s that? Oh, the mouse-trap. Meddle, did you put that cheese and bacon in it?”

“Yes, Aunt,” said Meddle in a small voice.

“Well, why didn’t you cover up the cheese-dish and wrap up the bacon?” asked his aunt. “Didn’t you know that even if the cat wasn’t there to nibble them, the mice would climb up to the shelves and eat them? They wouldn’t bother about the trap, if they could see cheese and bacon up here in plenty!”

“No, Aunt,” said Meddle, edging towards the kitchen door.

“Meddle, how did that cat get in here? Did you put it in?” said Aunt Jemima, suddenly. “The larder window’s closed. It couldn’t possibly have got in by itself.”

“Well, Aunt Jemima—you see, Aunt—it’s like this—after all, a cat does catch mice,” began Meddle. “And I thought ...”

“You thought it would be a very good idea to put that cat into my larder for hours, till it began to get really hungry and eat all our supper!” cried his aunt. “Come here, Meddle, come here!”

But Meddle was gone! “Good thing too!” said his aunt. “There’s only supper enough for one—an egg and bread-and-butter. Just wait till you come in, Meddle, just wait!”

Poor Meddle. He does his best, but it’s such a bad best, isn’t it?