Free Mouse Noses on Toast by Daren King Page B

pretending not to have noticed Paul’s blue bottom.
    Paul was impressed. How the Tinby had carried the box home with no arms was a mystery. He gave the Tinby a thumbs-up. The Tinby bowed its curved top half, but said nothing.
    “Have you been to see the mouses at the restaurant?” Sandra asked.
    “Yes,” Paul said, “and while I was there, something terrible happened.” He turned around and bent over.
    “Your poor bottom!”
    “I will never go to that restaurant again,” Paul said, trying to straighten out his question-mark-shaped tail.
    Sandra thought.
    The Tinby thought too, but no one knew what it was thinking, as Tinbys think in colors and shapes.
    “I have an idea,” Sandra said. “I think you should goto the restaurant one more time, not to see the mouses, but for a posh meal. You deserve it after what you’ve been through.”
    Paul smiled. He liked this idea a lot.
    “We can go today,” Sandra said. “You, me, the Tinby and Rowley Barker Hobbs.”

THE GHOST
    P AUL , S ANDRA AND THE T INBY SPENT THE REST OF THE morning drying the shoe box with tissues. No one likes to return home to a soggy shoe box.
    When they had made the shoe box as dry as they could, they lifted the lid and climbed inside. It was time to get ready for their posh meal.
    Sandra took the longest to get ready, as she had to choose a dress. She only had one dress and was already wearing it, but she took a long time to choose it anyway because she wanted to look her best.
    The Tinby didn’t wear clothes, so Paul drew a bow tie on its front,just below the eyes, with a black felt-tip pen. “Shall I color it in?”

    “No,” Sandra said, “it would look too formal.”
    Paul left the bow tie as it was, yellow with lime-green checks.
    In return for the bow tie, the Tinby made Paul an elegant cape out of tissue, and Sandra found an acorn for him and carved it into a posh acorn hat.
    And finally, they were ready. They climbed out of the shoe box and went to knock for Rowley Barker Hobbs.
    When they reached the house, they half expected Rowley Barker Hobbs to come bouncing out through the back door, wagging his tail and saying hello. But Rowley Barker Hobbs only came out once a day, and he had said hello once today already.
    “We could knock for him,” Paul said.
    Sandra put her hand on her silver hip. “You do the knocking, Paul Mouse. I’m an angel, and knocking is not very angelic.”
    So Paul knocked on the wood with his paw.
    They waited and waited and waited, but the door did not open and Rowley Barker Hobbs did not come out and say hello.
    “We could shout his name,” Paul said. “He will hear us if we all shout together.”
    “The Tinby can’t shout, Paul. It hasn’t got a mouth.”
    “Where is the Tinby anyway?”
    The Tinby was doing something daring. It had climbed up the outside of the back door and was jumping up and down on the door handle, with no arms and no regard for its own safety.
    “I hope it doesn’t fall,” Sandra said, almost in tears.
    “Me too,” Paul said. “We don’t want broken Tinby bits all over the patio.”
    Suddenly, the door handle turned and the door swung open. Paul and Sandra climbed up the doorstep and walked into the house.
    “The carpet looks hot,” Paul said. It was mauve and patterned with fiery orange swirls.
    “I don’t like it,” Sandra said. “My wings are made of tinsel, and tinsel is highly flammable.”
    “I hope we don’t get carpet burns,” Paul said. “It is warm in here. I may have to take off my hat.”
    They kept close to the wall in case there were humans wearing boots, but something far worse than bootsawaited them. In the center of the room, crouched on the fiery carpet, was a huge white ghost.
    Paul hid behind Sandra and Sandra hid behind Paul.
    “Look at its eyes,” Paul said. “Rowley Barker Hobbs has eyes like that.”
    “Maybe it is Rowley Barker Hobbs,” Sandra said. “He might have died and turned into a ghost.”
    This was a horrible thought,