The Town Mouse and the Country Mouse

The story

The country mouse lived beside a wheat field, in a small hole tucked under a bank. Dry straw covered the doorway, and a few grains of wheat and nuts were stacked neatly along the wall inside. He ate simple food, but he knew every safe path through the grass, every place to shelter from rain, and he slept soundly each night to the sound of crickets singing.

One day his friend from town came a long way to visit. The country mouse happily brought out the very best he had: a few grains of wheat, a bit of root, and some dried nuts saved from autumn. The town mouse nibbled twice, wrinkled his nose, and said, "Dear friend, why do you live so plainly? Come to town with me. There is white bread, cheese, honey, and sweet dried fruit — more than you could ever eat!"

The country mouse's eyes lit up, and that very night he set off with his friend. They walked along the edges of the fields and down a quiet lane, with only the moon to light their way, while a firefly drifted along beside them for a while, carrying its own tiny lamp. After a long walk, they squeezed through a crack in a wall and arrived at the grand house the town mouse had promised.

Inside the wall was a dining room where the candles had not yet gone out. On the table was a feast the country mouse had never imagined: crumbs of white bread piled like a little hill, golden honey glowing with light, and a whole rich wedge of cheese. He walked all the way around the table legs, so pleased he almost forgot to breathe.

Just as they reached out for their first bite, the door swung open with a click. Footsteps, voices, and swaying candlelight poured into the room at once. Both mice shrieked and dashed into a narrow hole in the corner, squeezing in so tightly their tails got tangled. They held their breath until the footsteps and the candlelight finally faded and the room grew quiet again.

They had only just peeked out to try that piece of cheese again when a swift, silent shadow slid across the corner of the room — a cat. Both mice were struck with fright and dove straight back into the narrow hole, huddling close together, whiskers trembling.

When his heart finally slowed down, the country mouse said quietly, "Your dinner really is wonderful, but I could never bear a life where every bite comes with fear like this. I would rather go home and eat my plain grains in peace." Then, as the sky outside began to turn pale with morning, he made his way step by step back toward the country.

Back beside the wheat field, he slipped into his familiar little hole. The grain was still grain, the straw was still straw — nothing had changed. But for the first time, the country mouse felt that his simple little home was safer and more comforting than the richest table in town.