The Mice and the Weasels

The mice and the weasels had been at war for as long as anyone could remember, and the weasels always won.

The mice met in the dark under the barn floor. "Why do we lose?" they squeaked. "Why do we always lose?" An old mouse stood up. "We have no leaders," he said. "We run this way and that, and nobody tells us what to do."

So the mice chose generals. They chose the strongest mice, the wisest mice, the bravest mice and the mice from the finest families. The generals marched the others up and down until every mouse knew his place. Then a herald mouse stood out in the open and squeaked a challenge to the weasels.

On the day of the battle, the generals tied tall straws to their heads, so that all their troops could see them. How grand they looked!

The fight had hardly begun when the mice broke and ran. Every plain mouse raced for home and dived down his hole, quick and safe.

The generals raced for home too. But their straws were too wide for the holes. They pushed and they pulled and they stuck fast, and the weasels came up behind them and ate them, every one.