Page 4 - My FlipBook
P. 4
Sometimes late at night he could swear he smelt the smell of sweet, hot, freshly cooked apple
pies rising up through the bed, but of course each time he simply shrugged his large shoulders
and fell back to sleep assuming it was just his mind playing tricks on his old nose.
Life was great and cheerful for the mice until one evening, before heading off to bed Polker
sneaked quietly past the living room to join the others in the bed, but as he did he heard Harold
sniffling to himself.
“I wish I had someone … everyone needs company … and I have no one!”
He watched him wiping his eyes with a hanky as he sat alone by the fire.
“Poor Harold.”
He squeeked quietly then rushed of quickly up the stairs and into the base of the bed.
“We must find Harold a wife!”
“Find Harold a wife?”
Penny repeated,
“Yes as soon as possible.”
