The

The It's A Good Life by Jerome Bixby.

Aunt Amy was out on the front porch, rocking back and forth in the high-back chair

and fanning herself, when Bill Soames rode his bicycle up the road and stopped in front

of the house, perspiring under the afternoon sun. Bill lifted the box of groceries out of the big basket over

the front wheel of the bike and came up the front walk. Little Anthony was sitting on the lawn,

playing with a rat. He had caught the rat down in the basement. He had made it think that it smelled cheese.

The most rich smelling and crumbly delicious cheese

a rat had ever thought it smelled.

And it had come out of its hole,

and now Anthony had hold of it with his mind

and was making it do tricks.

When the rat saw Bill Soames coming,

it tried to run,

but Anthony thought at it,

and it turned her flip-flop on the grass,

and lay trembling,

its eyes gleaming in small, black terror.

Bill Soames hurried past Anthony and reached the front steps mumbling. He always mumbled when he came to the Fremont House, or passed by it, or even

thought of it. Everybody did. They thought about silly things, things that didn't mean very much, like two

and two is four, and twice as eight and so on. They tried to jumble up their thoughts and keep them

skipping back and forth, so Anthony couldn't read their minds. The mumbling helped, because if Anthony got anything strong out of your thoughts,

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