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Mice 2
It was about four years after the Mice 1 episode that I got round to thinking about white mice as a money maker once more. We had moved house by this time and now lived in Birmingham. I had made a particular friend of a lad that was on the same wavelength as myself in most things.
As a joint effort we didn't see how we could lose. This was summer time, no hard weather to threaten the project. I was also older and wiser, wasn't I? My somewhat dubious father gave us space in the garden and the enterprise was under way.
Our 'Commercial Headquarters' were in a ramshackle old shed in my friends garden which held all our treasures and where it was quite safe to keep things and also have a crafty smoke when we wanted to. My friends mother respected our privacy in that shed as she realised how important it was to us. It was there that we planned the sales, estimated the profits and decided how the river of gold was to be spent.
Sure enough, time passed, nature took it's course and once more I had a multitude of money spinning white mice old enough to be put on the market.
My friend had one of those John Bull rubber stamp things and had painstakingly printed out a For Sale notice that was going to be pinned on his front gate for passers by to see. They living on the main Birmingham to Coventry road and near the shops, whilst I lived in a much quieter area. We would make it easy for the world to beat a path to his door.
We decided that the Sale would begin on this particular Saturday morning and so the Friday evening, after school and homework, was chosen to move the stock from my house to our Commercial Headquarters, ready for an early start to the sale on the Saturday morning.
Unfortunately this was the evening my friend had to attend his weekly piano practice, white mice or no white mice. Never mind, I could manage.
At the appointed time I carefully placed all our stock in a large cardboard container packed with fresh chopped up straw and sawdust. Had to keep the gravy train happy and content.
Now my friend lived about a quarter of a mile away, across a field and then the main road. I had to cross the main road to get to his house. So, there I was, carrying this large cardboard box, not heavy but cumbersome, and waiting to cross this main road.
Being a good boy and seeing a trolly-bus coming, we had them in those days, I waited so I could cross safely. Being a friendly boy I took one hand off the box to wave at the approaching driver. Children used to do that kind of thing. It was then that the bottom of the box dropped out and deposited a multitude of white mice on the pavement. Not that they stayed there for long, as you can imagine.
As soon as hundreds of tiny little feet touched the floor they were on the move in all directions. Some straight into the field I had just crossed but the majority, unfortunately, straight across the road to argue the toss with the wheels of the trolly-bus. Oh dear, oh dear, what a mess.
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