But that does not hinder the little brown mice; they run in
and out without any keys
through all the old houses in
Out of doors the market folks
went trudging through the snow
to buy their geese and turkeys,
and to bake their Christmas pies;
but there would be no Christmas
dinner for Simpkin and the poor
old Tailor of Gloucester.
The tailor lay ill for three days
and nights; and then it was
Christmas Eve, and very late at
night. The moon climbed up over
the roofs and chimneys, and
looked down over the gateway
into College Court. There were no
lights in the windows, nor any
sound in the houses; all the city
of Gloucester was fast asleep
under the snow.
And still Simpkin wanted his
mice, and he mewed as he stood
beside the four-post bed.