Stuart Little: Chapters 13–14

The scholars glanced around at each other in expectancy.

“Could we talk about sin and vice?” pleaded Lydia Lacey.

“Could we talk about the fat woman at the circus and she had hair all over her chin?” begged Isidor Feinberg, reminiscently.

“Well, all right then, let’s talk about the Chairman of the World. The world gets into a lot of trouble because it has no chairman. I would like to be Chairman of the World myself.”

“Oh, fish feathers!” said Stuart. “Size has nothing to do with it. It’s temperament and ability that count. The Chairman has to have ability and he must know what’s important. How many of you know what’s important?”

“A shaft of sunlight at the end of a dark afternoon, a note in music, and the way the back of a baby’s neck smells if its mother keeps it tidy,” answered Henry.

Anthony looked sulky. “But rats are unfair to us,” he said. “Rats are objectionable.”

“No scrapping?” asked Agnes, timidly. Stuart shook his head.

“It’s a little tiny pillow stuffed with sweet balsam.”
“Does it say ‘For you I pine, for you I balsam’ on it?”

He wiped his face with his handkerchief, for he was quite warm from the exertion of being Chairman of the World.

“Have you any sarsaparilla in your store?” asked Stuart. “I’ve got a ruinous thirst.”

Her people, the Ameses, are rather prominent in this town. One of her ancestors used to be the ferryman here in Revolutionary days.

Evening came, and Stuart still lingered by the stream. He ate a light supper of a cheese sandwich and a drink of water, and slept that night in the warm grass with the sound of the stream in his ears.

A girl about two inches high had entered and was crossing the floor toward the mail boxes. She wore sports clothes and walked with her head held high. In her hair was a stamen from a flower.

When he was sure that she was out of sight, he stole out of the post office and slunk down the street to the store, half hoping that he would meet the beautiful little girl, half fearing that he would.

“Have you any engraved stationery?” he asked the storekeeper. “I’m behind on my correspondence.”

“Have you any engraved stationery?” he asked the storekeeper. “I’m behind on my correspondence.”

“I am a young person of modest proportions. By birth I am a New Yorker, but at the moment I am traveling on business of a confidential nature. My travels have brought me to your village. Yesterday the keeper of your local store, who has an honest face and an open manner, gave me a most favorable report of your character and appearance.”

“I am a young person of modest proportions. By birth I am a New Yorker, but at the moment I am traveling on business of a confidential nature. My travels have brought me to your village. Yesterday the keeper of your local store, who has an honest face and an open manner, gave me a most favorable report of your character and appearance.”

“Pray forgive me, Miss Ames,” continued Stuart, “for presuming to strike up an acquaintance on so slender an excuse as your physical similarity; but of course the fact is, as you yourself must know, there are very few people who are only two inches in height...."

“Pray forgive me, Miss Ames,” continued Stuart, “for presuming to strike up an acquaintance on so slender an excuse as your physical similarity; but of course the fact is, as you yourself must know, there are very few people who are only two inches in height...."

My only drawback is that I look something like a mouse.

Let me be perfectly blunt: my purpose in writing this brief note is to suggest that we meet.

Would you care to go for a paddle with me in my canoe? How about tomorrow afternoon toward sundown, when the petty annoyances of the day are behind us and the river seems to flow more quietly in the long shadows of the willows?

These tranquil spring evenings are designed by special architects for the enjoyment of boatmen.

“If you wish to accept my invitation, be at the river tomorrow about five o’clock. I shall await your arrival with all the eagerness I can muster. And now I must close this offensive letter and catch up with my affairs.
Yours very truly,
Stuart Little.”

“If you wish to accept my invitation, be at the river tomorrow about five o’clock. I shall await your arrival with all the eagerness I can muster. And now I must close this offensive letter and catch up with my affairs.
Yours very truly,
Stuart Little.”

Taking a piece of thread from his pocket, he lashed the paddles to the thwarts, swung the canoe lightly up on his head, and walked off with it as calmly as though he were a Canadian guide.

“Darn it!” said Stuart, “I’ve been swindled.”

Then he bailed out his canoe and hauled it up on the beach for repairs.

Stuart carried stones from the beach down to the water’s edge and ballasted the canoe with the stones until it floated evenly and steadily.

Stuart threw himself down against a stump and tried to strike an easy attitude, as though he were accustomed to taking girls out.

Stuart was a courteous mouse by nature, but Harriet said she didn’t need any help.

Stuart looked at her in despair.

In the north I have eaten my lunch in pastures rank with ferns and junipers, all under fair skies with a wind blowing.