Authors: Arnold Lobel
“
WAIT!
” said the mouse.
“This soup will not taste good.
It has no stories in it.
Mouse soup must be mixed with stories to make it taste really good.”
“But I have no stories,” said the weasel.
“I do,” said the mouse.
“I can tell them now.”
“All right,” said the weasel.
“But hurry. I am very hungry.”
“Here are four stories to put in the soup,” said the mouse.
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A mouse was walking through the woods.
A nest of bees fell from a tree.
It landed on the top of his head.
“Bees,” said the mouse, “you will have to fly away.
I do not want a nest of bees sitting on the top of my head.”
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But the bees said, “We like your ears, we like your nose, we like your whiskers.
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Oh yes, this is a fine place for our nest.
We will never fly away.”
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The mouse was upset.
He did not know what to do.
The buzzing of the bees was very loud.
The mouse walked on.
He came to a muddy swamp.
“Bees,” said the mouse, “I have a nest like yours.
It is my home.
If you want to stay on my head, you will have to come home with me.”
“Oh yes,” said the bees.
“We like your ears, we like your nose, we like your whiskers.
We will be glad to come home with you.”
“Very well,” said the mouse.
He stepped into the mud up to his knees.
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“Here is my front door,” said the mouse.
“Oh yes,” said the bees.
The mouse stepped into the mud up to his waist.
“Here is my living room,” said the mouse.
“Oh yes,” said the bees.
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The mouse stepped into the mud up to his chin.
“Here is my bedroom,” said the mouse.
“Oh yes,” said the bees.
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“And now I will go to sleep,” said the mouse.
He ducked his head under the mud.
“Oh no!” said the bees.
“We like your front door.
We like your living room.
We like your bedroom.
But no, no, no, we do not like your bed!” The bees jumped up into the air and flew away.
The mouse went home to take a bath.
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Two large stones sat on the side of a hill.
Grass and flowers grew there.
“This side of the hill is nice,” said the first stone.
“But I wonder what is on the other side of the hill?”
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