You remember that at the beginning of this story you were

told of two houses being back to back. One was the old run-

down slum house that was cold in winter and hot in summer.

The time has now come to tell you about that house.

     In the kitchen of this slum house two men were talking.

One man was called Joe. He was short. The other man was

called Pete. He was tall. Joe, the short one, was an animal

trainer. Pete, the tall one, was a theatrical agent. Pete's job

was to find actors and sell them to theatres to do their acts.

     Every time Joe, the short one, would start to say something,

Pete, the tall one, would shake his head and interrupt, saying,

     'I know, Joe, but it won't go!'

     'Why don't you give me a chance to finish what I have to

say?' Joe asked.

     'What difference will it make?' Pete answered. 'It just

isn't box-office. Can't you see it isn't commercial?'

     'But I tell you ... ' Joe started to say.

     Pete was losing his patience. 'Look, Joe,' he said, 'an

elephant, a seal, a dog, even a cat, but not a mouse, Joe. Not

a mouse!' Pete's voice became loud.

     'He is not a mouse!' Joe replied impatiently. 'He is a

squouwse! His father was a squirrel and -his mother was a

mouse! That makes him a squowse!'

     'It looks like a mouse!' Pete insisted.

     'He has the face of a mouse,' said Joe, 'and the tail of a

squirrel. He's got the best features of both parents!'

     'It still looks like a mouse!' Pete shouted, 'and I don't like

mice!'

     'You don't have to shout,' Joe said. 'I've been training all

kinds of animals for years and I tell you that this animal is

almost human.'

     Pete tried to hide his exasperation. 'I know, Joe, but it

won't go!' he said again.

     As they were talking, a little brown creature, with brown

fur and brown eyes, was doing tricks on a trapeze. He did

double flips. He swung back and forth with each paw. He

stood on the trapeze with one leg. He got off the trapeze and

walked up and back like a soldier. Then he held out his two

front less, hummed Alouette and danced a jig.

     'See?' Joe said.

     'I see,' Pete said, 'and I hear,' Pete said, 'but it isn't box-

office!'

     Then the squowse did his best trick of all, giving it every-

thing he had, doing five and a half turns in one somersault

and landing on his right front leg.

     'His name is Willie,' said Joe proudly.

     'I can get acrobats ten a penny,' said Pete.

     'But not a squowse!'Joe shouted, in total frustration.

     Pete got up from his chair, grabbed his hat and said, 'I've

got to go, Joe. Sorry. The women would scream. There'd

be a panic in the theatre. No manager would risk it. An

elephant act, a dog act, a seal act, even a cat act, but not a

squowse act, Joe. It just isn't box-office. Can't you see? ^

     'I tell you Willie is almost human,' Joe said, holding Pete s

arm. 'He understands everything. He can do almost anything.

I bought him from a farmer who trained him. It happens

once in a million years, something like Willie.'

     'Maybe so,' said Pete. 'but I don't go for a squowse act.

Sorry.' .

     During all this time Willie was still standing on his right

front leg, looking from Joe to Pete and from Pete to Joe.

     Pete got to the door and left without saying goodbye.

     Willie got down on his four legs and sighed.

     'Well, you heard it,'Joe said, sitting down and holding his

head in his hand.

     Willie nodded.

     'What's the use?' Joe was still holding his head. He was

very depressed. 'What's the use about anything? Maybe it

would've been better if you'd had no brains and no under-

standing and were just an ordinary animal like all the

other animals. Maybe it'd be better if you lived like all the

others.'

Willie felt awful.

'There's no use fooling ourselves,' Joe sighed. 'I thought

our act would sweep the country. I saw you in tails and me

in tails, our names in lights, the world at our feet. Pete's right.

I was a fool to think a squowse act would go over.'

Willie felt worse.

'Anyway, let's get some sleep,' Joe said. 'We've got to get

out of here tomorrow. Let's get some sleep. Perhaps I'll think

of something.'

     That night, while Joe slept, Willie paced the floor. He

couldn't sleep. He walked up and back, up and back, and he

thought, 'What's so terrible? So we don't go on the stage.

So we don't get famous. So we're not box-office. Is that so

terrible? We've got along before. Is that all I've meant to

Joe - just a means of getting famous and rich?'

     These thoughts troubled him. Willie lay down but he

couldn't fall asleep. He started walking up and back again.

He was thinking very hard. Then he noticed a little hole in

the wall, just above the floor. He stuck his head through. The

inside of the wall looked very interesting. Plaster. Lattices.

Sticks. Pipes. He scrambled through the hole and started to

explore, in the hope that it would take his mind off his

troubles. But he was still so,absorbed with his thoughts that

he didn't look where he was going and slipped. As he slipped

a piece of loose plaster fell, hit him on the head, just above

the ear, a very soft spot, and knocked him unconscious.