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Peering over the edge of it were a pair of bright little oilspot eyes。
〃Mr。 Jingles;〃 I said in a low voice。 〃e over here。 e on over here; old boy; and see this lady。〃
I squatted down … it hurt; but I managed … and held out my hand。 At first I didn't think he was going to be able to get over the side of the box this time; but he made it with one final lunge。 He landed on his side; then regained his feet; and came over to me。 He ran with a hitching limp in one of his back legs; the injury that Percy had inflicted had e back in Mr。 Jingles's old age。 His old; old age。 Except for the top of his head and the tip of his tail; his fur had gone entirely gray。
He hopped onto the palm of my hand。 I raised him up and he stretched his neck out; sniffing at my breath with his ears laid back and his tiny dark eyes avid。 I held my hand out toward Elaine; who looked at the mouse with wide…eyed wonder; her lips parted。
〃It can't be〃; she said; and raised her eyes to me。 〃Oh Paul; it isn't 。 。。 it can't be!〃
〃Watch;〃 I said; 〃and then tell me that。〃
From the bag on the table I took a spool which I had colored myself … not with Crayolas but with Magic Markers; an invention undreamed of in 1932。 It came to the same; though。 It was as bright as Del's had been; maybe brighter。 Messieurs et mesdames; I thought。 Bienvenue au cirque du mousie!
I squatted again; and Mr。 Jingles ran off my palm。 He was old; but as obsessed as ever。 From the moment I