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Sam in Plymouth would like a dodo in the story

Something bad was indeed looming on the horizon, because no one, but no one, messed with the Professor’s property, but Hildegard and the mice were blissfully unaware of their impending doom. In fact, they had no cares in the world.

Hildegard herself was outside in the garden. The mice had moved happily into their new house. The grown-up mice were now re-arranging the furniture, making beds, washing the windows, polishing tiny candlesticks and deciding who would have which bedroom.

Dorothy and Marigold were inspecting the kitchen and deciding that although it needed a bit of a scrub, and the larder needed filling up with important mouse necessities (such as seeds and cheese and chocolate biscuits), the whole place was really much nicer than the Gloop kitchen. In fact they were in mouse heaven.

They sang as they worked, brandishing tiny feather dusters in time to their song. (The song was that well-known ditty, Three Blind Cats, and they sang it with gusto.) By and by, the house was spick and span, which was just as well, because at that moment a dodo walked past the window and looked in. Dorothy and Marigold waved.

‘Come and have a cup of tea!’

‘Well thank you,’ said the dodo. ‘I’d love to. By the way, It’s just a thought, but I have a feeling that something strange is going on in your attic.’

‘That’s very rude of you!’ exclaimed Marigold.

‘Yes, and after all, we’ve just invited you in for tea!’

‘No, no,’ said the dodo. ‘That’s not what I meant. I mean, I think something strange is going on up there!’ And he pointed towards the roof with a little, tiny wing.

Dorothy and Marigold looked up and gasped!

 Dodo

 

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