20-SIGNED TOILET PAPER

SIGNED TOILET PAPER Pottypaws kept sobbing. "I never went to college," he said, weeping. "I'm a self- made mouse. I wanted to have a publishing company. I thought all you had to do was pay for it. But I was wrong." I walked up to him and put a paw on his shoulder. "Cheer up," I said. "You do have a newspaper. THE ROARING RAT!" Pottypaws opened a drawer in his desk. He took out some papers filled with numbers. "Take a look at this!" he said. "The newsdealers are returning all of my newspapers. The bookstores are returning all of my books. The readers only want The

Rodent's Gazette and Stilton Publishing!" Pottypaws began to sob again. I looked at the list of books put out by The Roaring Rat Group. I understood why the public didn't like them. The titles were horrible! I took pity on poor Pottypaws. "It's not your fault you didn't succeed," I told him.

"You can't become a publisher overnight. It took me twenty years to learn the business. I was only thirteen when my grandfather began taking me to book fairs." Pottypaws blew his snout into a big RED pawkerchief with yellow dots. "You're just

saying that to cheer me up," he said. "I'm an ignorant mouse. A loser. A THIRD-RAT rodent." I hate to see a mouse get down on himself. "Come on, don't cry!" I said. "I'M SURE YOU'RE A FINE MOUSE!" "Easy for you to say," Pottypaws grumbled. "Everyone on Mouse Island knows you. Your books are great. I've read every single one of them." He reached into his drawer again and took out one of my books: Four Mice Deep in the Jungle. "Would you sign it for me?" he asked. I thought about the perfect thing to write. Then I signed it: To my new friend, flusher Pottypaws. May he soon be signing his own books!

He sighed. "Thank you, Mr. Stilton. But I'm afraid the best I can ever hope for is to sign a roll of toilet paper!"