Music Welcome to Snewscast, the podcast designed to help you fall asleep. Find us on snewscast.com and follow us on Instagram at snewscast to find behind the scenes content. If you enjoy our show, please write a review on the Apple Podcast app. Also, share us with a friend. This episode is brought to you by our Patreon supporters and by Excellent Breakfasts. Tonight, we'll read a selection of mouse-featured Beatrix Potter stories, starting with Johnny Townmouse, and followed with The Tale of Two Bad Mice and The Tale of Mrs. Tittlemouse. This episode is dedicated to our patron Donna, who requested Asop's Fables. While we haven't found a good public domain version of the original Fables for Snuescast, this story by Potter is inspired by one of his Fables. Beatrix Potter was an English writer, illustrator, natural scientist, and conservationist best known for her children's books featuring animals, though Potter was typical of women of her generation in having limited opportunities for higher education, her study and watercolors of mushrooms led to her being widely respected in the field of my In all, Potter wrote 30 books, the best known being her 23 children's tales. Get cozy. Close your eyes. Relax your body into the softness of your bed. Now, take a few deep breaths. Johnny Townmouse was born in a cupboard. Timmy Willie was born in a garden. Timmy Willie was a little country mouse who went to town by mistake in a hamper. The gardener sent vegetables to town once a week by carrier. He packed them in a big hamper. The gardener left the hamper by the garden gate so that the carrier could pick it up when he passed. Timmy Willie crept in through a hole in the wicker work and after eating some peas Timmy Willie fell asleep. He awoke in a a fright, while the hamper was being lifted into the carrier's cart. Then there was a jolting and a clattering of horse's feet. Other packages were thrown in for miles and miles. Jo, jo, jo, jo.

And Timmy willy trembled amongst the jumbled up vegetables. At last the cart stopped at a house where the hamper was taken out, carried in, and set down. The cook gave the carrier six pence. The back door banged, and the cart rumbled away. But there was no quiet, there seemed to be hundreds of of carts passing by. Dogs barked.

Boys whistled in the street.

The cook laughed. The parlor made ran up and downstairs. And a canary sang like a steam engine. At last the carts stopped at a house. Pres, the cook opened the hamper and began to unpack the vegetables. Timmy Willie, who had lived all his life in a garden, was almost frightened to death. Presently, the cook opened the hamper and began to unpack the vegetables. Out sprang the terrified Timmy Willie. Up jump the cook on a chair, exclaiming, a mouse, a mouse called the cat, fetched me the poker Sarah. Timmy Willie did not wait for Sarah with the poker. He rushed along the skirting board till he came to a little hole and in he popped. He dropped half a foot and crashed into the middle of a mouse dinner party, breaking three glasses. Who in the world is this? Inquired Johnny Town Mouse, but after the first exclamation of surprise, he instantly recovered his manners. With the utmost politeness, he introduced Timmy Willie to nine other mice, all with long tails and white neckties. Timmy Willie's own tail was insignificant. Tony Townmouse and his friends noticed it, but they were too well-bred to make personal remarks. Only one of them asked Timmy Willie if he had ever been in a trap. The continual noise upstairs made him so nervous.

The dinner was of eight courses, not much of anything, but truly elegant. All the dishes were unknown to Timmy Willie, who would have been a little afraid of tasting them. he was very hungry and very anxious to behave with company manners.

The continual noise upstairs continued to make him nervous, so much so that he dropped a plate. Never mind they don't belong to us," said Johnny.

It should be explained that... "'Never mind, they don't belong to us,' said Johnny.

"'It should be explained that two young mice who were waiting on the others went skirmishing upstairs to the kitchen between courses. times they had come tumbling in, squeaking and laughing. Timmy willy learned with horror that they were being chased by the cat. His appetite failed. He felt faint. some jelly said Johnny Tanouse. No, would you rather go to bed? I'll show you a most comfortable sofa pillow. The sofa pillow had a hole in it. Johnny Townmouse quite honestly recommended it as the best bed, exclusively for visitors, but the sofa smelled of cat. Timmy Willie preferred to spend a miserable night under the fender. It was just the same next day. An excellent breakfast was provided, for mice accustomed to eat bacon, but Timmy Willie had been reared on roots and salad. Johnny Townmouse and his friends racketed about under the floors and came boldly out all over the house in the evening. One particularly loud crash had been caused by Sarah tumbling downstairs with a tea tray. They were crumbs and sugar and smears of jam to be collected in spite of the cat.

Johnny Townmouse and his friends racketed about under the floors all throughout that evening. Timmy willy long to be at home in his peaceful nest in a sunny bank. The food disagreed with him. The noise prevented him from sleeping. In a few days he grew so thin that Johnny Townmouse noticed it and questioned him. He listened to Timmy Willie's story and inquired about the garden. It sounds rather adult place. What do you do when it rains? When it rains, I sit in my little sandy burrow and shell corn and seeds for my autumn store. I peep out at the throttles and blackbirds on the lawn and my friend robin. And when the sun comes out again, you should see my garden and the flowers, roses and pinks and pansies. No noise except the birds and bees and the lambs and the meadows. Oh, there goes that cat again. X-glammed Johnny Townmouse. When they had taken refuge in the coal-seller, he resumed the conversation. I confess I'm a little disappointed. We have endeavour to entertain you, Timothy William. Oh yes, yes, you've been most kind, but I do feel so ill." said Timmy Willie. It may be that your teeth and digestion are on a custom to our food. Perhaps it might be wise or free you to return in the hamper. Oh, oh! Cry Timmy Willie. Why, of course, for the matter matter of that we could have sent you back last week said Johnny rather huffly. Did you not know that the hamper goes back empty on Saturdays? So Timmy willy said goodbye to his new friends and hid in the hamper with a crumb of cake and a withered cabbage leaf. And after much jolting, he was sat down safely in his own garden.

Sometimes on Saturdays, he went to look at the hamper

lying by the gate, but he knew better than to get in again

and nobody got out.

Though Jonny Townmouse had half promised a visit. Timmy Willie sat by his burrow, warming his little fur coat, and sniffing the smell of filets and spring grass.

This was after the winter passed and the sun came out again.

Timmy Willie had nearly forgotten his visit to town.

When up the sandy path, all spik and span with with a brown leather bag, came Johnny Townmouse. Timmy Willey received him with open arms. You've come at the best time of year. We'll have herb-putting and sit in the sun. Hmm, it's a little damp. Said Johnny Townmouse.

Who... We'll have herb-putting and sit in the sun. Hmm, it's a little damp. Said Johnny Townmouse, who was carrying his tail under his arm out of the mud. What is that fearful noise? He started violently. That? Said Timmy will I? That's only a cow.

Help. boys. He started violently. That said Timmy will I? That's only a cow. I'll beg a little milk. They're quite harmless. Unless they happen to lie down upon you. How are all our friends? Johnny's account was rather middling. He explained why he was paying his visit so early in the season. The family had gone to the seaside for Easter. The cook was doing spring cleaning on board wages with particular instructions to clear out the mice. There were four kittens and the cat had killed the canary. They say we did it, but I know better," said Johnny Townmouse. Hey, whatever is that fearful racket. Now that's only the lawnmower. I'll fetch some of the grass clippings presently to make your bed. I'm sure you'd better settle in the country, Johnny. Mmm. We shall see by Tuesday week. The hamper's stopped while they're at the seaside. I'm sure you'll never want to leave this town again," said Timmy Willie. But he did. He went back in the very next hamper of vegetables. He said it was too quiet. One place suits one person. Another place suits another person. For my part, I prefer to live in the country like Timmy Willie. The tale of two bad mice. Once upon a time there was a beautiful doll's house, a very beautiful house indeed. It was red brick with white windows and it had real muslin curtains and a front door and a chimney. It belonged to two dolls called Lucinda and Jane. At least it belonged to Lucinda, but she never ordered meals. Jane was the cook, but she never did any cooking, because the dinner had been bought ready made in a box full of shavings. There were two red lobsters and a ham, a fish, a pudding, and some pears and oranges. They would not come off the plates, but they were extremely beautiful. One morning, Lucinda and Jane had gone out for a drive in the doll's baby carriage. There was no one in the nursery, and it was very quiet. Presently, there was a little scuffling, scratching in the corner the fireplace where there was a hole under the skirting board. Tom Thum put out his head for a moment and then popped it in again. Tom Thum was a mouse. A minute afterwards, hunkamanka, his wife, put her head out too, and when she saw that there was no one in the nursery, she ventured out on the oil cloth under the The doll's house stood at the other side of the fireplace. Tom Thumb and Hunga Monka went cautiously across the hearth rug. They pushed the front door. It was not fast creeping up to the house. Tom Thumb and Honka Monco went upstairs and peeped into the dining room. Then they squeaked with joy. Such a lovely dinner was laid out upon the table. I were tin spoons and lead knives and forks, and two dolly chairs all so convenient. Tom Thum set to work at once to carve the ham. It was a beautiful, shiny, yellow, streaked with red. The knife crumpled up and hurt him, so he put his finger in his mouth. It's not boiled enough. It's hard. You have a try, hunkamankamanka? Hunka-manka stood up in her chair and chopped at the ham with another lead knife. Well, it's as hard as the ham's at the cheese mongers said hunka-manka. The ham broke off the plate with a jerk and rolled under the table. Let it alone, said Tom Thumb. Give me some fish, Hanke Munkha. Hanke Munkha tried every tin spoon in turn. The fish was glued to the dish. Then Tom Thumb lost his temper. He put the ham in the middle of the floor and hit it with the tongs and with the shovel smash, smash. The ham flew all into pieces. For underneath the shiny paint, it was made of nothing but plaster. Then there was no end to the rage and disappointment of Dom Thum and Hunkamanka. They broke up the pudding, the lobsters, the pears, and the oranges. As the fish would not come off the plate, they put it into the red hot crinkly paper fire in the kitchen, but it would not burn either. Tom Thom went up, the kitchen chimney, and looked out at the top. There was no suit. While Tom Thom was up the chimney, Honka Manka had another disappointment. She found some tiny canisters upon the dresser labeled Rice, Coffee, etc. But when she turned them upside down. there was nothing inside except red and blue beads. Hunkamanka dumped them all out. Then those mice set to work to do all the mischief they could, especially Tom Vum. He took Jane's clothes out of the chest of drawers in her bedroom, and he threw them out of the top floor window. But Hunkamunka had a frugal mind. After pulling half the feathers out of Lucinda's she remembered that she herself was in want of a feather bed. With Tom Thum's assistance, she carried the bolster downstairs and across the hearth rug. It was difficult to squeeze the bolster into the mouthhole, but they managed it somehow. Then, Hunkamunka went back and fetched a chair, a bookcase, a birdcage, and several small odds and ends. The bookcase and the bird cage refused to go into the mouse hole. Hankemonka left them behind the coal box and went to fetch a cradle. Hankemonka was just returning with another chair.

When suddenly there was a noise of talking outside upon the landing, the mice rushed back to their hole, and the dolls came into the nursery. a sight met the eyes of Jane and Lucinda. Lucinda sat upon the upset kitchen stove and stared, and Jane went against the kitchen dresser and smiled. but neither of them made any remark. The bookcase and the birdcage were rescued from under the coalbox, but hunkamanka has got the cradle and some of Lucinda's clothes. She also has some useful pots and pans and several other things. The little girl that the doll's house belonged to said, I will get a doll dressed like a police man. but the nurse said I will set a mouse trap. So that is the story of the two bad mice, but they were not so very very naughty after all, because Tom Thumb paid for everything he broke, he found a crooked penny under the hearth rug and upon Christmas Eve, he and Hunkamanka stuffed it into one of the stockings of Lucinda and Jane. very early every every morning, before anybody is awake,

Honkamanca comes with her dustpan and her broom to sweep the dolly's house. to sweep the dolly's house.

The end.

The tale of Mrs. Titelmouse. Once upon a time, there was a woodmouse, and her name was Mrs. Titelmouse. She lived in a bank under a hedge, such a funny house. There were yards and yards of sandy passages leading to store rooms and nutsellers and seed sellers all amongst the roots of the hedge. There was a kitchen, a parlour, a pantry, and a larder. Also, there was Mrs. Tittle Mouse's bedroom where she slept in a little box bed. Mrs. Tittle Mouse was a most terribly tidy, particular little mouse, always sweeping and dusting the soft sandy floors. Sometimes a beetle lost its way in the passages. Shoo, shoe, little dirty feet, said Mrs. Tittle Mouse, clattering her dustpan. And one day, a little old woman ran up and down in a red spotty cloak. Your house is on fire, Mother Lady Bird. Fly away home to your children. Another day, a big fat spider came in to shelter from the rain.

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