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Smarty Pants was a bright little mouse
Who lived in a very upmarket house.
He was extremely vain and proud
But the clothes he wore were rather loud!
The coats he had were a bright shade of red
He even had golden pyjamas for bed.
His hats you really should have seen
They were orange and yellow and pink and green!

The people who owned young Smarty’s home
Were rich and pompous and very well known.
All Smarty’s friends said, ‘I say, mouse,
Is it true that your folks are very famous?’
And Smarty replied with his nose in the air,
‘Of course they are, but please don’t stare’

Smarty gave parties with food galore
His folks never missed it from their well stocked store.
His friends squealed and squeaked as if in fright
But they were only expressing their delight
At so much food and exotic fruit
One even spilled on Smarty’s new suit.
‘How dare you do that, you clumsy mouse!
Go away and don’t come back to my house!’
Yelled Smarty, who was quite red in the face
And the poor little mouse crept away in disgrace.
The mice went quiet and looked at him.
‘You shouldn’t have been so hard on Jim,’
Said one old mouse, ‘You should have been kind
’Cos poor old Jim is nearly blind.
A cat got him one rainy day
And hurt him lots before he got away.’
‘Oooh, Smarty Pants,’ gasped the other mice.
‘Sometimes you’re really not very nice!’
‘Well I don’t care’ was the swift reply.
‘It’s not my fault he was hurt in the eye!'

The other mice couldn’t believe their ears.
Smarty Pants was worse than all their fears.
They scurried away as fast as they could
Through the hole in the wall nibbled right through the wood.
The old mouse stopped as he got to the street
And said, ‘We must all get together and meet.
Young Smarty Pants feels nothing for anyone other
Than himself – not even his mother!’
The other mice nodded their heads in dismay
And arranged to meet the following day.

Smarty, of course, knew nothing of this.
He sat in his den, thinking that it was bliss.
Next morning at nine o’clock on the dot
The old mouse’s house was filled with a lot
Of jabbering mice who all wanted to set
A lesson for Smarty he would never forget.
The old mouse, whose name was Seamus O’Flynn
Held up his hand and called over the din,
‘Now hush everyone and let’s form a plan
To make young Smarty a far better man!’
‘But he’s a mouse not a man!’ squeaked one old dear
‘That’s true,’ said another. ‘And that is my fear.
He thinks and he acts like a human being
And he’s forgotten it’s a mouse we should be seeing.’

The meeting went on and on for ages and ages
O’Flynn made notes on hundreds of pages.
At last they thought that they knew what to do
To sort out Smarty and his big ideas too.
Tiny Thimble Mouse asked if he could volunteer
‘Because,’ he explained, ‘Smarty once clipped my ear!’
‘Only if you’re very careful young pal,’
Said Seamus. ‘And take Little Sal.
She’ll keep look out while you do the deed,
And if she squeaks you know to take heed.’
Thimble Mouse said that that was all right
As long as small Sallie Mouse kept out of sight.

The next night when all was quiet and still
The two young mice crept over the sill
And into Smarty’s posh people’s house.
Thimble kept tight hold of young Sallie mouse.
‘Where are you going?’ she squeaked in his ear
And her tail curled round in knots with fear.
Thimble said, ‘Sssh!’ and slid down the rope
Sallie sniffed and crossed her paws in hope.
You see, Thimble and all of the other ones
Had heard stories of the posh people’s sons.
Apparently they were a naughty pair
And their bedroom was like a fox’s lair.
There were traps and ropes and wires and strings
But brave Thimble hoped to find something among these things.
He cautiously made for the bedroom dark
And wondered how he’d got himself into this lark.

All was quiet Thimble saw straight away
And the snores of the boys he could hear as they lay
Fast asleep in their beds with their mouths open wide.
Carefully Thimble crept round to the side
And opened a large, dusty cupboard where
He knew he would find what he wanted there.
Seamus had said that when he was a boy
He knew what had amused him most as a toy
And a small packet of it lay on the shelf.
Thimble crept up, sniffed and then helped himself.
He suddenly sneezed with a mighty great noise
Then ran from the room, lest he wake up the boys.

Small Sallie was waiting high up on the sill.
‘Have you got it?’ she cried in a voice that was shrill.
Thimble nodded and scrambled up. ‘Quickly!’ he cried.
‘Let’s run and find somewhere safe we can hide!’

Back at Seamus’s house the mice waited in fear
‘Do you think that they’ll ever make it back here?’
Asked one mouse with a tear in her eye.
‘They should,’ said Seamus. ‘Or I’ll want to know why!’
‘They are brave,’ said another. ‘I hope that the cat
Doesn’t get them or that will be that!’
‘Ooh! Don’t say that,’ squeaked Mousie Jill.
‘The thought of a cat makes me feel quite ill!’
‘Never fear,’ said Seamus getting his hat.
‘I’ll go and see if I can see the cat.’
Just then in a terrible rush and a tumble
In shot Sallie and before Thimble could mumble
‘We’ve got it! We’ve got it!’ she cried in delight.
‘I’ve never had such an exciting night.’
‘You’re lucky,’ said Thimble scratching his nose.
‘This stuff is awful when it gets in your clothes.’
‘Exactly!’ beamed Seamus rubbing his paw.
‘We’ll soon teach Smarty a lesson he can’t ignore.’

The very next day Seamus crept up to Smarty
‘I thought,’ he said, ‘I’d thank you for the party.’
‘You’re welcome,’ said Smarty, brushing dust off his coat.
‘By the way, next week I’ll be buying a boat!’
‘Are you really?’ said Seamus, not wishing to hear
The boasts of his friend were like smacks to the ear.
‘Oh yes,’ said Smarty. ‘You could never compete
With the upper crust sort of people I meet.’
‘What will you wear on this boat?’ asked Seamus all cool.
‘I don’t know,’ said Smarty. ‘I don’t want to look a fool.’
‘Of course not,’ said Seamus. ‘Let’s look at your clothes.’
‘Yes, all right,’ said Smarty and they looked through the rows
Of coats and trousers and hats and shoes
‘Does green suit me best or is it the blues?’
Asked Smarty and turned his back on Seamus
Who then did the thing for which he became famous.

Into the hats and the coats – every stitch
He sprinkled the powder that makes you itch.
‘I think,’ he said with a smile on his face,
‘You’d better try them all on, just in case.’
‘I will,’ said Smarty and shook his paw
As Seamus ran quickly out through the door.
It is said that he scratched for a year and a day
And people would laugh and point and say,
‘There goes Itchy with his clothes all torn!’
The constant scratching had made them all worn.

Thimble and Sallie often tell the tale louder
Of Smarty and Seamus and the itching powder.
It seems that Smarty learned his lesson and how!
He only wears jeans and T shirts now.
He moved from being an itchy clown
To a much smaller place on the outskirts of town.
He’s known all around now as the threadbare mouse
Who lives with his wife in a musty bed warehouse.

So that is the end of my tale of young Smarty
Who wanted to show off to his friends at a party.

Imprint

Publication Date: 02-07-2011

All Rights Reserved

Dedication:
To my children and grandchildren, with love

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