“I wallop a snake wiv a old rock cake—”

“Rollo! Go and play outside and stop listening to those dreadful songs. Strangling dragons and swigging beer – where will it all end?”

*   *   *

Mattimeo was finding out that roses had sharp thorns. For the second time that day he sucked at his paw, nipping out the pointed rose thorn with his teeth. Tim Churchmouse had gone off shrimping with the otters, Tess stayed behind out of pity for the warrior’s son.

“Here Matti, you stack those baskets on the cart for your mum. I’ll arrange the roses for you. You’ve got them in a right old mess.”

Mattimeo winked gratefully at her. “Thanks, Tess. I’m about as much use as a mole at flying, with all these flowers. I never thought it would be such hard work.”

“Then why did you volunteer for it?”

“I never volunteered,” he explained. “Dad said I have to do it as part of my punishment for fighting with Vitch.”

Tess stamped her paw. “Oh, that little rat. It’s so unfair, it was he who provoked you into that fight. Look, there he is now, over by the tables, having a sly snigger at you.”

Mattimeo saw Vitch, leaning idly on a table. He sneered and pulled tongues in the young mouse’s direction.

Mattimeo felt his temper rising. “I’ll give him something to stick his tongue out at in a moment,” he muttered under his breath. “I’ll throttle him so hard it’ll stick out permanently!”

Tess felt sorry for her friend. “Pay no attention to him, Matti. He’s only trying to get you into more trouble.”

It was difficult for Mattimeo to ignore Vitch. Now the rat was wiggling a paw to his snout end at his enemy.

The young mouse straightened his back from the pile of baskets. “Right, that’s it! I’ve taken all I can stand of his insults.”

Quickly Tess dodged past Mattimeo and ran towards Vitch, who was still grimacing impudently. Angrily the young churchmouse picked up the first thing that came to her paw. It was a pliant rose stem. “Look out, Vitch, there’s a great big wasp on your tail,” she cried out urgently. “Stay still, I’ll get it!”

Startled by Tess’s warning cry, Vitch obeyed instantly, turning and bending slightly so she could deal with the offending insect. There was no sign of a wasp behind Vitch.

Tess swung the rose stem, surprised at her own temper but unable to stop the swishing descent of the whippy branch. It thwacked down hard across Vitch’s bottom with stinging speed.

Swish, crack!

“Yeeehoooooowowow!” The rat straightened like a ramrod. Leaping high in the air, he rubbed furiously with both paws at the agonizing sting.

Cornflower came hurrying over. “Oh dear, the poor creature. What happened, Tess?”

The young churchmouse looked the picture of innocence, though she felt far from it. Blushing deeply she stammered an excuse.