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 and Isabella used as a nursery, but its eyes were bright with fever and Ferdinand was very anxious. Suppose bronchitis should turn into pneumonia? It was chilly and draughty down in that corner of the pot-closet. There was only one thing to do: the sick mouse must have a hot compress on its chest immediately.

But how was anything to be heated, in the middle of the night? In this dreadful difficulty Ferdinand did what he would never have done except in case of necessity. He took a small drink of brandy from his flask, to encourage himself, then he put up a flag of truce and went boldly out into the kitchen to ask Fourchette's advice. He knew that Fourchette was a parent herself and would put aside old quarrels for the sake of a sick child.

Fourchette was certainly surprised to see Ferdinand (his whiskers trembling a little with nervousness) advance with a flag of truce. But she was always well-bred, and said politely but with a small touch of mischief, "It is a long time since I've seen you."

Ferdinand explained his anxiety, and at once Fourchette suggested the Pilot Light. Burning there quietly at the back of the stove while all