Forget-Me-Not Fairytales

"I confess I am a little disappointed; we have endeavoured to entertain you, Timothy William."  In this lively edition of The Tale of Johnny Town-Mouse, join Rae Wilson for an energetic reading of a classic story. Perfectly paced for a mid-day break or story time at home, this version is designed to keep listeners entertained.
While parenting styles and social norms have evolved since these fables were first told, the lessons they teach—about kindness, hard work, and honesty—remain as relevant as ever.

Music in this episode is created by:
"Frost Waltz (Alternate)" Kevin MacLeod (incompetech.com)
Licensed under Creative Commons: By Attribution 4.0 License
http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/

"Mazurka Op. 59 no. 2 in A flat major" by Frédéric Chopin (archive.org)
http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/1.0/
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What is Forget-Me-Not Fairytales?

Fairytale lovers of all ages, will enjoy this collection of timeless classics, as Ms. Rae takes you into the woods and to far off places.

Ms. Rae:

Welcome to Forget Me Not Fairytales, classic stories for book lovers of all ages. Let's begin. The tale of Johnny Town-Mouse. Written and illustrated by Beatrix Potter. Johnny Town mouse was born in a cupboard.

Ms. Rae:

Timmy Willie was born in a garden. Timmy Willie was a little country mouse who went to town by mistake and a hamper. The gardener sent vegetables to town once a week by carrier. He packed them in a big hamper. The gardener left the hamper by the garden gate, so that the carrier could pick it up when he passed.

Ms. Rae:

Timmy Willie crept in through a hole in the wicker work and after eating some peas, Timmy Willie fell fast asleep. He awoke in a fright while the hamper was being lifted into the carrier's cart. Then there was a jolting and a clattering of horse's feet and other packages were thrown in for miles and miles. Jolt, Jolt, Jolt and Timmy Willie trembled amongst the jumbled up vegetables. At last, the cart stopped at a house where the hamper was taken out, carried in, and sat down.

Ms. Rae:

The cook gave the carrier 6p, The back door banged and the cart rumbled away. But there was no quiet. There seemed to be hundreds of carts passing. Dogs barked, boys whistled in the street, the cook laughed, the parlor maid ran up and downstairs and a canary sang like a steam engine. Timmy Willie, who had lived all his life in a garden was almost frightened to death.

Ms. Rae:

Presently, the cook opened the hamper and began to unpack the vegetables. Out sprang the terrified Timmy Willie. Up jumped the cook on a chair exclaiming, a mouse, a mouse, call the cat, bitch me the poker, Sarah. Timmy Willie did not wait for Sarah with the poker. He rushed along the skirting board till he came to a little hole and in he popped.

Ms. Rae:

He dropped half a foot and crashed into the middle of a mouse dinner party, breaking three glasses. Who in the world is this? Inquired Johnny Town-Mouse. But after the first exclamation of surprise, he instantly recovered his manners. With the utmost politeness, he introduced Timmy Willie to nine other mice all with long tails and white neckties.

Ms. Rae:

Timmy Willy's own tail was insignificant. Johnny Town-Mouse and his friends noticed it but they were too well bred to make personal remarks. Only one of them asked Timmy Willy if he had ever been in a trap. The dinner was of eight courses, not much of anything but truly elegant. All the dishes were a note to Timmy Willy who would have been a little afraid of tasting them.

Ms. Rae:

Only he was very hungry and very anxious to behave with company manners. The continual noise upstairs made him so nervous that he dropped a plate. Oh, never mind. They don't belong to us, said Johnny. Why don't those youngsters come back with a dessert?

Ms. Rae:

It should be explained that two young mice who were waiting on the others went skirmishing upstairs to the kitchen between courses. Several times they had come tumbling in, squeaking and laughing. Timmy Willy looked with horror that they were being chased by the cat. His appetite failed. He felt faint.

Ms. Rae:

Try some jelly, said Johnny Town-Mouse. No? Well, would you rather go to bed? I will show you a most comfortable sofa pillow. The sofa pillow had a hole in it.

Ms. Rae:

Johnny Town-Mouse quite honestly recommended it as the best bed kept exclusively for visitors. But the sofa smelled of cat. Timmy Willie preferred to spend a miserable night under the fender. It was just the same the next day. An excellent breakfast was provided for mice accustomed to eat bacon.

Ms. Rae:

But Timmy Willy had been reared on roots and salad. Johnny Town-Mouse and his friends racketed about under the floors and came boldly out all over the house in the evening. One particularly loud crash had been caused by Sarah tumbling downstairs with the tea tray. There were crumbs and sugar and smears of jam to be collected in spite of the cat. Timmy Willy longed to be at home in his peacefulness and a sunny day.

Ms. Rae:

The food disagreed with him. The noise prevented him from sleeping. In a few days, he grew so thin that Johnny Town-Mouse noticed it and questioned him. He listened to Timmy-Willie's story and inquired about the garden. It sounds rather a dull place.

Ms. Rae:

What do you do when it rains? When it rains, I sit in my little sandy burrow and shell corn and seeds from my autumn store. I peep out at the throstles and blackbirds on the lawn and my friend, cock robin. And when the sign comes out again, you should see my garden and the flowers, roses and pinks and pansies. No noise, except the birds and bees and the lambs and the meadows.

Ms. Rae:

Oh, there goes that cat again. Exclaimed Johnny Town-Mouse. When they had taken refuge in the coal cellar, he resumed the conversation. I confess, I am a little disappointed we have endeavored to entertain you Timmy-The William. Oh yes, yes, you have been most kind.

Ms. Rae:

I do feel so ill, said Timmy Willie. It may be that your teeth and digestion are unaccustomed to our food. Perhaps it might be wiser for you to return in the hamper. Oh, oh, cried Tinny Willy. Why, of course, for the matter of that, we could have sent you back last week, said Johnny rather huffily.

Ms. Rae:

Did you not know that the hamper goes back empty on Saturdays? So Timmy Willie said goodbye to his new friends and hid in the hamper with a crumb of cake and a withered cabbage leaf. And after much jolting, he was set down safely in his own garden. Sometimes on Saturdays, he went to look at the hamper lying by the gate, but he knew better than to get in again. And nobody got out though Johnny Town-Mouse had half promised a visit.

Ms. Rae:

The winter passed, the sun came out again. Timmy Willie sat by his burrow warming his little fur coat and sniffing the smell of violets and spring grass. He had nearly forgotten his visit to town. When up the sandy path, all spick and span, with a brown leather bag, came Johnny Town mouse. Timmy Willy received him with open arms.

Ms. Rae:

You have come at the best of all the year. We will have herb pudding and sit in the sun. It is a little damp, said Johnny Town-Mouse who was carrying his tail under his arm out of the mud. What is that fearful noise? He started violently.

Ms. Rae:

That? Said Timmy Willy. That is only a cow. I will beg a little milk. They are quite harmless unless they happen to lie down upon you.

Ms. Rae:

How are all our friends? Johnny's account was rather meddling. He explained why he was paying his visits so early in the season. The family had gone to the seaside for Easter. The cook was doing spring cleaning on board wages with particular instructions to clear out the mice.

Ms. Rae:

There were four kittens, and the cat had killed the canary. They said we did it, but I know better, said Johnny Town mouse. Ugh. Whatever is that fearful racket? That is only the lawnmower.

Ms. Rae:

I will fetch some of the grass clippings presently to make your bed. I am sure you had better settle in our country, Johnny. We shall see by Tuesday week. The hamper has stopped while they are at the seaside. I am sure you will never want to live in town again, said Timmy Willie.

Ms. Rae:

But he did. He went back in the very next hamper of vegetables. He said it was too quiet. One place suits one person, another place suits another person. For my part, I prefer to live in the country like Timmy Willie.

Ms. Rae:

The end. I hope you like the story. The tale of Johnny Town-Mouse by Beatrix Potter. Fairytales contain many morals. One lesson from this story is despite our best efforts, it's not uncommon for friends or strangers to like something different than we do.