A fable has been written about a city mouse that moved to the countryside and took up residence inside the walls of an old farm house…
From the start, that city mouse lorded it over the country mice. He grew handlebar whiskers. He put mousse on his hair. He talked with a fake exotic accent. He told the country mice that they were beneath him, or as he put it, they they came “from the wrong side of the mouse tracks.” Every day the newcomer bragged about his forebears, and when he ran out of ancestors he made some up. “My great-great-great-grandfather,” he said, “was a theater mouse in Paris. My family came to America in the bridal suite…
You are not logged in. To access the complete text of this resource, please log-in to your account or enter a subscription.
We are sorry that this resource was not useful for you!
Help us improve this resource!
Tell us how we can improve this content?