21-THE SECRET OF A NOBLEMOUSE

THE SECRET OF A NOBLEMOUSE Before we could stop him, Trap raced down the stairs leading to the basement. A little wooden door slammed shut behind him. "That's it!" I squeaked. "I've had enough of this! We're leaving!" I grabbed Benjamin's paw and headed for the door. "For once you're right, big brother. Let's go!" my sister agreed. "I've got enough pictures for my story anyway." SQUEEEEEAK!

Suddenly, a deafening scream made our fur curl. I threw open the door to the cellar. "Trap! Trap! What happened?" I squeaked. My cousin came running up the stairs. He was covered in inky black soot. "I found it, I found it!" he shouted, bouncing up and down like a basketball in the New Mouse City Cross Island Tournament. He danced a jig right there on the steps. Then he pointed to a wooden trunk. The initials on it read T.V.T. "Look, I found this trunk right next to a big basket of coal," he whooped.

"T.V.T. It has to be Trip von Trappen's!" Hopping up and down with excitement, he opened the trunk and peered inside. He took out a small picture of a chubby mouse with curly whiskers. I had to admit, he did sort of look like my cousin. Trap dug deeper inside the trunk. "Wow! Look at this!" he cried, pulling out a faded old letter. He cleared his throat and began to read solemnly: "In the year 1605, during the Age of the Rat, under the rule of the Most Excellent, Most Noble, Most Magnificent Grand Duchess Cheesey Lou Linda, the title of Noblemouse is hereby given to Trip von Trappen..." Trap stopped reading. He let out a loud sigh. "Just a noblemouse?"

he whined. "I was hoping for something a little more regal. Like a duke or a baron or something." I chuckled. Trap was so into this royalty stuff. I'm surprised he hadn't started to wear a crown on his head! My cousin continued reading. "The title of Noblemouse is hereby given to Trip von Trappen, famous throughout the land for his services as a—" All of sudden, Trap turned as pale as a mouse who just swallowed a whole tray of rat poison. He began to sweat. He rolled up the letter and tucked it into his pocket. "Wait a minute! You haven't finished reading," Thea pointed out. My cousin just shook his head. "Never mind, I'll read it to you later," he coughed. Of course, my sister did not like to be put

off. She leaped to her feet. "What does it say, Trap?" she squeaked, "Put your paws down! Let me see!" She reached for the letter, but my cousin pushed her away. Soon the two were wrestling on the cellar floor. I shook my head. Why did they always have to act like a couple of cranky mouslets? It was so embarrassing! Once I had to pull them apart at my poor Uncle Chester's funeral My sister had insisted that Uncle Chester had liked her best. Naturally, Trap disagreed, and a fight broke out. This time, I decided I wasn't going to get involved. Eventually, Thea got her paws on the letter.

"Your forefathers are my forefathers, too!" she cried. Then she read aloud the rest of the letter, "The title of Noblemouse is hereby given to Trip von Trappen, famous throughout the land for his services as a toilet bowl cleaner." At this point, Trap was sobbing away. "A toilet bowl cleaner!" he choked. "How humiliating! Now I can't tell anyone about my royal background. What a shame. What a dreadful shame!"