<h2>CHAPTER II.</h2>
<h3>THE MOUSE-TRAP.</h3>
<div class="figleft"> <ANTIMG src="images/gs006.jpg" width-obs="185" height-obs="300" alt="Cottage" title="" /></div>
<p><span class="smcap">Many</span> years ago, <i>very</i> many years as you would think, though the
time seems short enough for me, there came to the little village
(as it then was), of Nomatterwhat, an old man. He was a very
queer old man, and nobody knew where he came from, or anything
about him, except what he told them himself; and that was very little
besides the fact that his name was Jonas Junk, that he had come to
Nomatterwhat because he chose to come, and that he would stay
exactly as long as it pleased him and no longer. The good people
of the village, finding him such a very gruff and crusty old fellow,
thought it best to let him alone; and this being exactly what old
Jonas Junk wanted, he was well satisfied. Apparently what he
wanted beside was to build a house for himself: at all events, that
is what he did. He bought a large piece of ground and built a high
wall all round it, and put the ugliest and most vicious looking iron
spikes that you can imagine all along the top of the wall. Then he
chose the sunniest and most sheltered spot he could find on the
place, and there the old man built his house. Well, to be sure, what
a queer house it was! in the first place, there were three separate
flights of stairs, one for old Jonas himself, one for his cat, and one
for his dog. His own staircase was very easy, with broad low steps,<span class='pagenum'><SPAN name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</SPAN></span>
and two landings, though the distance was very short from the first
story to the second; but the poor cat and dog must have had a hard
time of it. The other two staircases were so crooked it seemed as
if the carpenter must have built them in his sleep, and have had the
nightmare to boot. Each step was set
at a different angle from the one below
it; and they were high, and steep,
and dark—ugh! I don't like to
think about them. I remember I tried
to send a moonbeam down the cat's
stairs once, through a little skylight
over the landing; and the poor thing
got lost and wandered about for an
hour before it could find its way back
again. There's a flight of stairs for
you! and everything else in the house
was just as queer. There were large
rooms and small rooms, long rooms
and square rooms; there were cupboards everywhere, you never saw
so many cupboards in your life. Some close to the floor so that you
bumped your head in looking into them, others so high up in the
wall that nothing short of a step-ladder could reach them; cupboards
in the chimneys, and cupboards under the stairs; yes, there was no
end to them.</p>
<div class="figright"> <ANTIMG src="images/gs007.png" width-obs="322" height-obs="400" alt="Grapes" title="" /></div>
<p>Well, Jonas Junk furnished his house, and there he lived for many
a year, with his dog and his cat, and nobody else. All the ground
about the house he made into a beautiful garden, full of pear trees<span class='pagenum'><SPAN name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</SPAN></span>
and apple trees and all kinds of fruit trees. People used to say, by
the way, that the reason these apple trees were so crooked, was
because they tried to look like old Jonas himself; but I don't know
how that was.
Certainly, Jonas
was not a beauty,
and I am sorry
to say the boys
were disposed to
make fun of
him whenever he
ventured out of
his queer house
into the village.
"But what has
all this to do
with mice and a
mouse-trap, you
ask?" Patience!
patience! we are
coming to that
very soon. I am
an old man, older than all of you and all your great-grandmothers
put together, so you must let me tell my story in my own way. If
Jonas Junk had lived on till to-day, his house would never have
been turned into a mouse-trap; but one dark night, you see,
he fell down the dog's stairs and broke his neck, and there<span class='pagenum'><SPAN name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</SPAN></span>
was an end of him. For a long time nobody lived in his house, and
the garden was all going to rack and ruin, when one fine day a gentleman
from a neighboring town came to see the old house and took
a great fancy to it;
and finally he
bought it, cat-stairs,
dog-stairs,
cupboards, garden
and all.</p>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/gs008.png" width-obs="277" height-obs="400" alt="Tipping his hat" title="" /></div>
<p>Now this gentleman
happened to
be Uncle Jack, the
uncle and guardian
of the Five Mice,
whose father and
mother were dead;
and then it was,
when he came to
live in it with his
five nephews and
nieces, and Mrs.
Posset the nurse,
and Susan the
cook, and Thomas
the gardener, then it was, I say, that the old Junk-shop, as the
villagers called it was turned into the most delightful house in
the world, which I call my MOUSE-TRAP.<span class='pagenum'><SPAN name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</SPAN></span></p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/gs009.png" width-obs="358" height-obs="475" alt="Everyone" title="" /></div>
<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><SPAN name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</SPAN></span></p>
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