Chapter Three

For a moment no one moved, then Petal scampered over to where Aubergene lay and knelt down at his head. Very gently she lifted it onto her lap, for once lost for words. Instead she closed her eyes tightly and began to cry. Dripper, who really didn’t understand what all the commotion was about, but decided that he would join in too, promptly started to bellow as well. Ambrose got down on his knees and crawled toward his motionless brother. He sniffed the air; all he could smell was soot. He tapped Aubergene cautiously on the shoulder, once then once again, a little harder. There was no movement. Petal bawled, “ Oh Aubergene, you goose, whatever shall we tell Mother?” Her wails became louder as did Dripper’s and Ambrose scampered outside to get away from their noise.

He felt quite helpless and was suffering a little from shock. How could they tell mother that Aubergene died when he fell out of the kitchen chimney? He skipped here and there amongst the milkweed and wild daisies, wondering what to do now. After all he was only a little mouse and had not experienced a death by misadventure before. Suddenly a memory of mother mouse standing beside a little mound, flashed through his mind. She had placed a small bunch of wildflowers on the mound before saying a prayer and turning stoically away.

Just as if a light had gone on in his mind, Ambrose knew what he must do. With purpose now he scuttled here and there gathering pieces of milkweed and wild white daisies. Then he made his way back inside, back to the hearth of the kitchen fireplace. There knelt Petal, Aubergene’s head still cradled on her lap, whimpering softly to herself and subconsciously patting Dripper’s shoulder. As for Dripper himself, he had finished bawling and was gazing vaguely around the kitchen and rubbing his nose with the corner of his mousey-rug. Ambrose scuttled to his brother’s side and put the small bunch of flowers on Aubergene’s thin chest.

‘ Oh Ambrose, whatever are we going to say to Mother? You know she is sure to realize that there is one of us missing tonight.’ Petal produced a spotty handkerchief from her pinafore and began to twist it around and around tortuously.

Ambrose looked thoughtful. ‘I don’t know. You know her eyesight has not been best of late and if we’re lucky she’ll not notice.’ He sniffed hopefully, looking a little brighter.

‘ That’s all very well, Ambrose. She might not notice at the tea table, what with you and I arguing over who has ice cream or jelly and Dripper spilling the milk bowl all over the cloth. But wait until she comes to say goodnight, she’ll surely notice then.’

It was while the brother and sister were in such deep discussion that they were interrupted by a humungous sneeze. Followed quickly by another.

‘ Use your handkerchief, Dripper,’ Petal admonished the baby mouse automatically. This was answered by another sneeze even more tumultuous than the first. Ambrose and Petal, even little Dripper covered their ears to prevent them from tingling. All three mice turned to look a their ‘demised’ brother, who was at the moment sitting bolt upright with a skinny finger held under his nose. Petals, pollen and leaves were everywhere.

‘ I think I’m allergic to flowers,’ the somewhat dazed Aubergene announced.

Chapter Two

Meanwhile left to their own devices, the mouse children had been using the afternoon to explore the kitchen fireplace, which was unlit. There were four children in the mouse family at present, Ambrose and Aubergene, the twins; they were the eldest and as such they were generally in charge of any activities the mice children indulged in. Petal, their sister, was anything but a petal. She was a real tom -mouse, and delighted in joining her brothers in their adventures. Unfortunately more often than not it was her job to mouse-sit the baby, Dripper. A job that she loathed. She was at a loss to see exactly why it should always fall to her to have to mind Dripper. After all today’s society was supposed to be an enlightened one in which the men folk in the community did their fair share in raising the babies. It was really too bad of Mama, she had spoilt the twins atrociously, and just like Daddy, they had her wrapped around their little tails. No husmouse of hers was going to behave in such a manner, -- and get away with it. She balled up her tiny fists and taking a deep breath sat down on the hearth to await her brother’s return. Dripper, so named for several reasons (some of which will become obvious as the story continues) sat next to his recalcitrant sister, a pout of discontent on his small be-whiskered face. Both of them sat there thinking very similar mutinous thoughts when from above them they heard a faint call, “Oh my! Pet-t-al!”
At first Petal thought it was God calling down from heaven to discipline her for her wayward thoughts. But reason asserted itself and she realized the call was far too faint to be God; it was more like a squeak. A distressed squeak at that.
            “Oh – oooh He-ell-up!” This time Petal recognized the cry for help. It was Aubergene, and from the sound of it the silly little rodent had got himself stuck up the flue.  Jumping up, her skinny arms akimbo, she stretched up on her tiptoes and standing on the hearth she thrust her little head up into the cavernous hole at the bottom of the chimney.

At first she saw nothing, it was as black as pitch. When as her eyesight adjusted to the difference in light, she was shocked to see two small eyes staring back at her and even more shocked to recognize Aubergene’s beady little orbs.

            “ Aubergene Roosevelt Mouse!” she squeaked indignantly. “ What would Mother Mouse say?” she demanded.

            “Petal! Come and get me! Ambrose can’t hold on much longer and when he lets go I’m done for!” the last word ended on a terrified squeal. There was a scuffle and some indignant yells, a sound like small gravel stones hitting the side of the flue.

            “ Aubergene! What is happen…?” Petal’s question was interrupted as a deposit of soot landed on her upturned face, filling her eyes and coating her whiskers. However she didn’t have much time to lament her situation as almost immediately after this rude invasion, she was knocked aside by two rather large flying missiles.

After Petal had blinked her eyes several times and given herself a good shake to dislodge most of the soot, she manage to focus on the cause of the entire disruption. There in front of her were two identical black mice. Each looked as woebegone as the other. Ambrose was sitting on the bricks at the hearth surrounded by soot and ashes, and there next to him lying very still was Aubergene, hanging on to his twin’s tail.

Chapter One

            Expectation filled the air at Grasshopper Farm and everywhere there was a sense of impatience, just like the days before Christmas.

 Prudence, the lady cat that usually lived in the cottage laundry had recently taken up residence in front of the open fireplace in Miss Diana’s writing room. She was due to have her first lot of kittens.
Miss Diana was particularly anxious; she constantly checked on Prudence and making sure that she was comfortable. It was a time of great excitement for everyone in the cottage and on the small farm that surrounded it. The new kittens were due any time.

Inside her small home in the skirting board near the brick framework of the fireplace, Mother Mouse shook her head in disdain. To see Miss Diana fouster around after that pampered feline was really too much! As if having babies was an unusual event, why she had lost count of the amount baby mice she herself had produced, even though Mr. Mouse had been on travels for quite some time now.

‘ You’d think that no one had ever made a babe before!’ she sniffed whilst gazing out the arched doorway of her home. ‘Such a to- do about nothing,’ She lamented scornfully.

Then giving her mitts a last wipe on her gingham apron she went back to baking roly-poly for her children’s tea.

Miss Diana was finding it hard to concentrate, not that she was overly anxious, it was just that Prudence was very special to her and she was so excited. She kept glancing up from drafting her latest novel to make sure that Prudence was comfortable.

Diana Lambert was writing her third crime novel. She had been sharing her script with Prudence as it had progressed, and was up to a rather gruesome scene were Montana Blaze fearless lady detective, stumbles across a body of a young man with a knife plunged deeply in his side. Diana shook her head.

“ Prudence darling,” she said sorrowfully, “ I am so sorry but the next part of the story is a tad unpalatable and I feel that it would not be the best for you or your bundle, so I should probably just keep this part to myself. We wouldn’t want it to curdle your milk, after all.”

Prudence’s baleful expression changed and her green eyes flashed, their pupils a deep brown. Her ears seemed to prick up with indignation.

“ Curdle my milk! What rubbish!” she shifted her rather cumbersome bulk slightly as if to convey the strength of her feelings.

“You can’t possibly write your novel without my educated critique,” she meowed with an indignant toss of her feline head.

“At any rate it is so wrong to let me begin a novel and then to not let me into the actual crime.” Prudence explained, and began to stroke her whiskers with a white mitt.

Miss Diana smiled benevolently at her beloved cat and returned to the keyboard.

Tap! Tap! Tappity tap! 

Introducing Grasshopper Farm and Friends

From the writer's desk...


Welcome to Grasshopper Farm. It is by no means a figment of my imagination and the stories all have an element of realism. The farm is situated on a plot of land in southern Queensland Australia. The characters(whether animal or human) are not fictitious however they are given alias' to preserve their privacy. Come and meet the characters that are introduced in each chapter and join with them on their adventures or in sow cases mis-adventures.