Free The Circus of Adventure by Enid Blyton

hang round, helping with a few jobs. I’d like that, anyway.’
    ‘Right. You go,’ said Bill, and Jack sped off with Kiki on his shoulder. The others got up to go for a walk, well away from the farm! ‘Take your tea,’ said Mrs. Cunningham. ‘Nobody will know where you are, if you go off for a walk, so nobody will be able to find you! You should be quite safe, Gussy!’
    So Gussy, Philip and the two girls went off with a picnic basket. They walked for about two miles and then found a glade that was golden with polished celandines. They sat down, hot with their walk.
    ‘This is heavenly,’ said Lucy-Ann. ‘I do love celandines. They look as if someone polished them every single morning. Jolly good workman he must be—he never misses a petal!’
    Dinah gave a scream. ‘Oh—what’s that on your shoulder, Philip! Oh, it’s a mouse!’
    Philip’s dormouse had decided that the pocket he lived in was getting too hot for his liking. So he had squeezed his way out, run up Philip’s vest, and appeared through the opening of his collar. There he was now, sitting up on the boy’s shoulder.
    ‘Oh—a dormouse!’ cried Lucy-Ann, in delight. ‘What’s his name, Philip? Will he let me hold him?’
    ‘His name is Snoozy and it suits him,’ said Philip. He felt in a pocket and brought out a nut. He gave it to Lucy-Ann. ‘Here, take this. Offer it to him on the palm of your hand and he’ll run over to you.’
    Lucy-Ann balanced the nut on her palm and held it out to the tiny mouse, being careful not to move too quickly. The dormouse watched her hand coming close to Philip’s shoulder, and his whiskers quivered as his nose twitched.
    ‘He can smell the nut,’ said Philip. ‘Keep quite still, Lucy-Ann. There he goes! How do you like the feel of his tiny feet?’
    ‘Oh, lovely!’ said Lucy-Ann. ‘Isn’t he a dear, Philip. I wish I had one too.’
    ‘I’ll try and get you one,’ said Philip.
    But Dinah gave a squeal at once. ‘No! She sleeps with me, and I’m not having mice in the bedroom.’
    ‘But this is a dormouse, not a house-mouse,’ said Lucy-Ann. ‘It doesn’t smell, or anything. It’s just perfectly sweet.’
    Snoozy nibbled daintily at the nut. A bit broke off and he took it into his front paws, sitting up just like a squirrel. He looked at Lucy-Ann out of his bright eyes.
    ‘He’s got such big black eyes that they really are like mirrors,’ she said. ‘I can see my own face, very tiny, in each of them.’
    ‘Can you?’ said Gussy, in surprise and put his face close to Lucy-Ann’s to look into the big eyes of the dormouse. It fled at once, disappearing down Philip’s neck at top speed.
    ‘You idiot, Gussy,’ said Lucy-Ann, in disgust. ‘You would do a thing like that.’
    ‘Excuse, pliss. I pollygize,’ said Gussy. ‘I beg your pardon, Lucy-Ann.’
    ‘All right. But I do hope Snoozy will come back,’ said Lucy-Ann, rather cross.
    He peeped out of Philip’s neck once or twice, but he wouldn’t come right out. ‘He’s not absolutely tame yet,’ explained Philip. ‘I’ve not had him long enough. But he soon will be. He’ll be coming out at meal-times soon and nibbling his little nut on my bread-plate.’
    ‘Not if I can help it,’ said Dinah.
    ‘Don’t be silly,’ said Philip. ‘You simply don’t try to like dormice. You . . .’
    ‘Someone coming,’ said Lucy-Ann, suddenly. Her sharp ears had caught the sound of voices.
    ‘Get under that bush, Gussy,’ ordered Philip. ‘Go on, quick!’
    Gussy vanished at once, and the bush closed over him. It was a pity it was a gorse bush, but Gussy didn’t have time to think of prickles.
    Two men came by, talking in the broad accent of the countryside. One was the man who had told Philip so much about badgers. He waved to him.
    ‘It’ll be a good night for badgers tonight!’ he called. ‘Moonlight—and that’s what they like.’
    ‘Come out, Gus,’ said Philip, when the men had passed. ‘False alarm.’
    Gussy