Malmo, the Wounded Rat
A poor man saw, by the roadside, a large white rat. It seemed to be dead.
Moving it gently he found it was alive, but had a broken leg. He took it
up and carried it to his lonely home. He bound up the bruised leg, fed the
poor creature, and soon it was quite well.
Sam Tills trained the rat to gentle ways, and taught it many little
tricks. Malmo was the only company Sam had. He worked in a cotton mill,
and took Malmo with him. He rode in his master's coat-pocket. It looked
droll to see his white head peeping out.
Sundays both went to dine with Sam's sister. Malmo's funny ways made
everybody laugh. When Sam said, "Malmo, go sit in my hat," he went at
once. He curled himself up in it, and nodded off to sleep.
When his master said, "Malmo, we're going now; slip in," the droll pet
jumped from the hat, ran up to his pocket-nest, said good-by in his own
fashion, and was ready to start. Evenings, when Sam was reading or singing
from his mother's hymn-book, Malmo had a nap on his master's head. When it
was time to go to bed Sam stroked Malmo's soft fur. The rat rubbed himself
against his master's hand. It was their good-night to each other. Then
Malmo crept into his basket, and the candle was blown out. Soon both were