I told them she would get angry, and that harm would come of it; but I think their unhappiness and dulness made them quite foolhardy, for they still went on, getting under her feet, and well-nigh tripping her up; clambering into the lard-pot before her very eyes; in short, doing a thousand irritating and injudicious things day by day, until her patience was quite worn out. And at last, when they scrambled on to the dinner-table, thinking it to be the store-room shelf, and sat all in a row, quietly eating out of Miss Gilliflower’s plate, Dame Marjoram, who had the carving-knife in her hand, thought it high time for them to have a lesson in manners. So, thinking the knife was turned blunt side downwards, she rapped them smartly across their three tails. What was her horror and their dismay, to find them cut off quite cleanly. The little tails lay still on the table, and the three little mice, well-nigh crazed with terror and pain, groped their way off the table and out of the room.
I was returning from the cheese-room, and met them crossing the great hall.
Of course, I took in at a glance all that had occurred, and I must say that I felt but little surprise, though much sorrow. I guided them to our old haunt in the loft-roof and then sat down to prepare a Memorial for Dame Marjoram, giving a full account of all that they had suffered for the sake of her family.
This I placed on the top of the key-basket; and while she was reading it, with my usual tact I silently brought in Purrin, Furrin, and Tod, and pushed them forward in front of her.
The tears stood in her eyes as she finished reading my scroll, and from that time forth nothing was too good for the Three Blind Mice. The good wife even tried to make new tails for them.
But they did not live long to enjoy their new happiness. The loss of their sight, followed by the shock of having their tails cut off, was too much for them. They never quite recovered, but died, all on the same day, within the same hour, just a month afterward.
Their three little graves were made beneath the shadows of a lavender bush in the garden.
Sometimes I go there to scatter a flower or two, and to shed a tear to the memory of Purrin, Furrin, and Tod.