Stuart Little: Chapters 1–5

Mrs. Little saw right away that the infant clothes she had provided were unsuitable, and she set to work and made him a fine little blue worsted suit with patch pockets in which he could keep his handkerchief, his money, and his keys.

He also examined Stuart’s chest and heart and looked into his ears solemnly with a flashlight.

One day when Mrs. Little was washing out the bathtub after Mr. Little had taken a bath, she lost a ring off her finger and was horrified to discover that it had fallen down the drain.

In a minute or so, there came three quick jerks on the string, and Mr. Little carefully hauled it up.

The Littles liked Ping-pong, but the balls had a way of rolling under chairs, sofas, and radiators, and this meant that the players were forever stooping down and reaching under things.

Stuart soon learned to chase balls, and it was a great sight to see him come out from under a hot radiator, pushing a Ping-pong ball with all his might, the perspiration rolling down his cheeks.

Sometimes after a long session he would emerge quite deaf, as though he had just stepped out of an airplane after a long journey; and it would be some little time before he really felt normal again.

“I don’t want Stuart to get a lot of notions in his head,” said Mr. Little. “I should feel badly to have my son grow up fearing that a farmer’s wife was going to cut off his tail with a carving knife. It is such things that make children dream bad dreams when they go to bed at night.”

“Yes,” replied Mrs. Little, “and I think we had better start thinking about the poem ‘’Twas the night before Christmas when all through the house not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.’ I think it might embarrass Stuart to hear mice mentioned in such a belittling manner.”

It was decided that louse was the best substitute for mouse, and so when Christmas came around Mrs. Little carefully rubbed out the word mouse from the poem and wrote in the word louse...

Mr. Little was not at all sure that he understood Stuart’s real feeling about a mousehole. He didn’t know where the hole led to, and it made him uneasy to think that Stuart might some day feel the desire to venture into it.

Mr. Little was not at all sure that he understood Stuart’s real feeling about a mousehole. He didn’t know where the hole led to, and it made him uneasy to think that Stuart might some day feel the desire to venture into it.

Stuart touched his toes ten times every morning to keep himself in good condition. He had seen his brother George do it, and George had explained that it kept the stomach muscles firm and was a fine abdominal thing to do

Swinging on the string this way, with his long bathrobe trailing around his ankles, he looked like a little old friar pulling the bellrope in an abbey.

Swinging on the string this way, with his long bathrobe trailing around his ankles, he looked like a little old friar pulling the bellrope in an abbey.

Stuart had taken such a hard jump that it started the shade: with a loud snap the shade flew up clear to the top of the window, dragging Stuart along with it and rolling him up inside, so that he couldn’t budge.

When Mrs. Little came down later and found them there, she gave a shrill scream which brought everybody on the run.

“I’ll have this old floor up in double-quick time,” he said, inserting his screw driver under the edge of the first board and giving a good vigorous pry.

“I’ll have this old floor up in double-quick time,” he said, inserting his screw driver under the edge of the first board and giving a good vigorous pry.

“Stop that!” bellowed Mr. Little. “George, will you kindly let me handle this situation? Put that applesauce away immediately!”

Mr. Little glared fiercely at George.

Mr. Little glared fiercely at George.

He did, however, come across an old discarded rowing machine of Mr. Little’s, and becoming interested in this, carried it upstairs with some difficulty and spent the rest of the morning rowing.

“George!” shouted Mr. Little in an exasperated tone, “if you don’t stop acting in an idiotic fashion, I will have to punish you. We are having enough trouble today without having to cope with your foolishness.”

“George!” shouted Mr. Little in an exasperated tone, “if you don’t stop acting in an idiotic fashion, I will have to punish you. We are having enough trouble today without having to cope with your foolishness.”