22-LITTLE MICE AROUND THE WORLD

LITTLE MICE AROUND THE WORLD Finally, it was time to go home. We boarded the plane headed for Mouse Island. It was another long flight. The little mice climbed all over me. Then they sang songs at the top of their lungs. I didn't get one bit of rest. Still, I was kind of sad when we landed. I was going to miss those little rodents. As we were waiting for our luggage, I made an announcement. "You are all invited to visit me at The Rodent's Gazette," I told the class. "You can see how we put the newspaper together. You can see how a Book is made." "HOORAY!" the little mice cheered. Then Punk Rat grabbed my paw.

"I'm going to miss you, Mr. Geronimouse," he sobbed. I patted his head. "I'll miss you too, Punk Rat," I said. "Um, but remember, my name is Geronimo, Geronimo Stilton." "Of course, Mr. Geronimity," Punk Rat squeaked. I tried to remain calm. "It's Geronimo, Punk Rat," I repeated. "That's G-E-R-O-N-I-M-O." Punk Rat smirked. "That's what I said, Mr. Geronimoose," he giggled.

I gave up. What else could I DO? Punk Rat flung his paws around my neck. He really wasn't such a bad little mouse. In fact, he was just like lots of little mice around the world— full of life and love and, oh, of course, cheese.