The Diary of Sir Littleton III

        

December 1, 1924

Hello, my name is Sir Littleton III. I live in London, England. I have been having some rough times lately. I only want a friend, but how could a little mouse like me find a friend in London? I also have to escape mean people who chase me with brooms!

And guess where I live? An old pipe in a wall! Aieeee! Mouse! Oops! Sorry, gotta run! Bye!

December 2, 1924

I’m back!

I went to the museum by sneaking into some lady’s purse to get away from those mean people with brooms. When I was there, I heard some priests talking about how they should respect all life. That’s it! I thought. I could live in the church! I am going to be a church mouse!

I rushed home, stuffed my things in my doll’s suitcase, and headed straight for the church.

I scurried through the crowd and found a pair of fancy, comfy shoes to live in. I felt like a one pound weight was lifted off my tiny shoulders (which is a lot for a mouse).

Then, I decided I needed to look like a church mouse. I snuck into the priest’s dressing room and cut a tiny robe from his big one and put it on. Then, I cut off the top of his hat and put that on too. Finally, to top it all off, I took the long stick he carries and broke off the top. I went back to my shoe to get dressed. I looked fabulous! Amazing! Beautiful! I was a real church mouse. While I sat in the shoes and read a torn off piece of the bible, I heard a THUMP! THUMP! THUMP! The priest was coming! I shut my eyes tight and put my paws in front of my snout, hoping I would not get killed, when he picked me up and hugged me.

“My, my, you’d make a great pet,” he said.

Well, chop my cheese, I thought. He wants to keep me as a pet!

“And where did you get those adorable little clothes?”

My little snout went redder than a tomato.

“Oh, who cares? You are the cutest thing I ever saw!”

Suddenly, I heard a scream from the dressing room.

“Eek! Somebody ruined my clothes!”

“Lorenzo, what’s more important — clothes or animals?”

“FINE, but if I catch that dirty mouse doing anything with my things again, I promise, I will get revenge!” he snarled.

I shivered like I was in Antarctica.

That night, I slept in my shoe. When I woke up, I continued reading the torn off bible page. A cold, wrinkly thing pushed down on my snout. Wait a minute… that was Lorenzo’s foot! Ew! Lorenzo stomped into the shoes and started walking down the hall. I screamed for help, but to everybody else it sounded like SQUEAK, SQUEAK, SQUEAK!

“Aw, are you okay, mouse?” Lorenzo laughed.

Great, now I’m stuck in a shoe getting crushed by none other than Lorenzo’s foot, I thought.

When I thought all hope was lost, the priest came running in screaming.

”MY MOUSE IS GONE! I WANT HIM BACK!” he wailed.

Now it was Lorenzo’s turn to go as red as a tomato. When the priest looked at his shoe, he went paler than a ball of mozzarella.

“Y-y-you… you took my mouse!” he stuttered. “YOU TOOK MY MOUSE!” he screamed.

Then, he ran over to the phone and dialed 9-1-1 to report animal abuse. The police rushed over and arrested Lorenzo. He was very mad. After that, the priest and I lived a happy and calm life together.

THE END

 

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