The Merry Mice

The merry mice stay in their holes
And hide there all the day:
But when the house is still at night,
The rogues come out and play,
They climb upon the pantry shelf,
And taste all they please;
They drink the milk that’s set for cream,
And nibble bread and cheese.
But if they chance to hear the cat,
Their feast will soon be done;
They scamper off to hide themselves,
As fast as they can run.

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