Mouse In A Teacup

She tucked her tail close and rested her chin on the cup’s rim. At last, she could feel her paws again. The cold prickles faded. Her whiskers stopped trembling.

She had been wandering since morning, following the scent of dry grass and looking for a place to rest. The garden was large when you were a tiny mouse. A fallen twig could become a bridge. A cabbage leaf could hide a whole corner of the world. But today, every place she found was wet.

The stump table was different.

It was low enough to climb, sheltered enough to keep the rain away, and the teacup was warm.

Pip wrapped her paws around it more tightly.

A sudden gust swept through the garden.

The leaves above her shivered. The stump gave a little shake. The teacup slid across the smooth wood.

Pip’s eyes grew wide.

“Stop!”

The cup moved another inch toward the edge.

Pip sprang forward and pushed her shoulder against it. The cup slowed, but the stump wobbled beneath her. The warm tea trembled inside, making a soft sloshing sound.

“Please stay,” Pip puffed.

She pushed harder. Her back paws slipped on the damp wood. For one small moment, she and the cup seemed to lean together toward the garden floor.

Then Pip caught hold of the cup’s handle.

The handle was cool beneath her paws. She pulled with all her strength.

The cup stopped.

Pip sat down quickly, her tail curled around her feet. The stump rocked once more before becoming still.

A small drop of tea ran down the cup and landed on her nose.

Pip blinked.

Then she laughed softly.

“That was not very cozy.”

She looked around. The stump table had one short leg resting on a root and another pressed into the earth. The third leg seemed to wobble whenever the wind blew. Pip placed her paw against it. The wood shifted under her touch.

She tried pushing a pebble beneath the leg. The pebble rolled away.

She tried a second one. It was too round.

“Perhaps this one,” Pip said.

She found a flat piece of bark near the stump and dragged it across the table. It was almost as wide as she was. Pip pushed it beneath the wobbly leg, then climbed back to the cup.

The stump gave a tiny shake.

The cup moved only a little.

Pip brightened. “That helped!”

She settled beside the cup again. The teacup still leaned toward the edge, but not as much as before. Pip kept one paw on its side while she warmed the other.

For a while, everything was peaceful.

The rain softened. A sweet smell rose from the damp soil. Somewhere close by, water dripped from a leaf into a puddle.

Pip’s eyelids grew heavy.

Then a stronger gust came racing across the garden.

The branches above the stump swayed. The bark slipped from beneath the leg. The cup slid forward.

Pip grabbed it with both paws.

“Not again!”

The cup’s bottom scraped the wood. Its blue flowers flashed past Pip’s nose as it moved toward the edge. Pip planted her feet and leaned back. Her fur brushed the stump’s rough surface.

The cup stopped with its rim hanging just beyond the table.

Pip looked down.

The ground below seemed very far away. It was not truly far, but Pip was very small, and the cup was very large. If it fell, the warm tea would spill, and the lovely shelter would be gone.

Pip pulled the cup back inch by inch.

Her paws grew tired. The handle pressed against her chest. She wanted to let go and curl up somewhere else. She wanted to find a dry leaf and hide beneath it.

But when she glanced at the cup, she remembered the warmth spreading through her paws.

“I can do this,” she murmured.

She tucked her feet under the cup’s base and pushed with her shoulder. The cup slid away from the edge.

One tiny scrape.

Then another.

At last, it rested near the middle of the stump.

Pip sank down beside it. Her breath came fast, but the cup was safe.

A soft voice came from the fern below the stump.

“Are you all right?”

Pip leaned over the edge. A field mouse named Nib peered out from the green fronds. He wore a dry leaf like a little hat.

“I am now,” Pip said. “The wind nearly carried the cup away.”

Nib climbed onto the lower root. “That cup is much too big for one little mouse to hold.”

“I know,” said Pip. “But it is warm.”

Nib nodded. “Warm things are worth taking care of.”

Pip looked at the stump. “I tried a pebble and a piece of bark. They did not stay.”

“Maybe the stump needs something wider,” Nib said. “A flat stone might help.”

Pip glanced toward the stone where her acorn had stopped. It was broad and thin, with one edge tucked into the mud.

“That might work.”

Nib climbed down and pushed the stone with his nose. Pip hurried to help. Together, they nudged it across the wet ground. The stone was heavy, but it moved a little at a time.

“Push when I push,” said Nib.

Pip pressed her shoulder to the stone. “Now.”

They pushed.

The stone slid beneath the wobbly leg. The stump gave a small creak, then settled firmly.

Pip climbed back up and touched the table with one paw.

It did not rock.

She placed both paws around the cup. It stayed still.

Nib smiled. “There you are.”

Pip’s paws warmed again. She looked at the blue flowers and the smooth white side. The cup no longer seemed like something she had merely found. It felt like a small room made just for her.

“Thank you,” Pip said.

“You are welcome,” said Nib. “But where is the saucer?”

Pip looked around the stump.

The cup had been sitting on a round white saucer when she first arrived. She remembered seeing its edge beneath the cup. Now there was only a pale mark on the wood.

“The saucer?” Pip repeated.

Nib pointed down with his nose. “Perhaps the wind moved it.”

Pip leaned over the stump. Beneath the table, the fern leaves trembled. A white curve showed between the green fronds.

“There!” she said.

The saucer had slipped beneath the fern. It lay on its side in the damp earth.

Pip looked back at the cup. It was warm. It was safe. The stump was steady now.

Then she looked at the saucer.

If she left the cup to fetch it, she would have to step away from her cozy place. The thought made her paws curl around the cup.

“I do not want to leave,” Pip said.

Nib rested his paws on the root. “You do not have to leave for long.”

Pip studied the distance. The saucer was just below the stump, but the fern leaves crowded around it. She would need to climb down, search through the wet fronds, and carry the saucer back.

The wind gave a gentle puff.

The cup stayed still.

Pip took a slow breath. She pressed her paws against the warm porcelain one more time.

“I can come back,” she said.

“That is right,” Nib replied. “Cozy places wait for careful mice.”

Pip climbed down the stump. The bark was rough beneath her toes. At the fern, cool drops brushed her ears and nose. She parted the leaves and found the saucer half tucked beneath a soft patch of moss.

It was too wide for her to lift.

Pip tried pulling it by the rim. The saucer scraped through the mud but stopped against a root.

She tugged again.

Nothing.

Nib came down beside her. “Try turning it.”

Pip tilted the saucer onto its edge. Together, they rolled it out from beneath the fern. It made a quiet, soft clink against a stone.

“Almost there,” Pip said.

The saucer rolled one more time and came to rest beside the stump.

Pip reached for it, but a gust brushed through the garden. The fern leaves bent low. The saucer slipped from her paws and slid back beneath the fern.

Pip stared at the green leaves.

The cup was safe above her. The saucer was hidden below.

Nib touched her shoulder. “We can try again.”

Pip looked up at the teacup. Its white side glowed softly beneath the cloudy sky. She could almost feel its warmth.

Then she looked at the saucer under the fern.

“All right,” she said. “But first, I will steady the cup.”

She climbed back onto the stump and placed both paws around the teacup. The cup stood firm on the wide stone beneath the table leg. Pip gave it a careful push.

It did not move.

She smiled, though her smile faded when she glanced toward the fern.

The teacup was safe. Her paws were warm.

But the saucer was still waiting below.

Pip kept one paw on the cup and looked at the green leaves. She knew she would have to leave her cozy refuge again.

The garden was quiet around her. Rain ticked gently on the branches. Nib waited at the foot of the stump.

Pip curled her tail close and held the teacup steady.

Sometimes, a warm place made it easier to be brave.

End of chapter one. 7 more chapters in the full book.