The Amazing Maurice and His Educated Rodents Read Free

the name of the town, kid?” Maurice asked, sitting on a rock and looking down at the town. Behind the cat and the boy, the rats were counting the money again, stacking it in piles beside its leather bag. They did this every day. Even though he had no pockets, there was something about Maurice that made everyone want to check their change as often as possible.
    â€œâ€™S called Bad Blintz,” said the kid, referring to the guidebook.
    â€œAhem…should we be going there, if it’s bad?” said Peaches, looking up from the counting.
    â€œHah, it’s not called Bad because it’s bad ,” said Maurice. “That’s foreign language for bath , see?”
    â€œSo it’s really called Bath Blintz?” said Donut Enter. “It sounds like some kind of soap.”
    â€œNah, nah, they call it Bath because”—the Amazing Maurice hesitated, but only for a moment—“because they got a bath, see? Very backward place, this. Not many baths around. But they’ve got one, and they’re very proud of it, so they want everyone to know. You prob’ly have to buy tickets even to have a look at it.”
    â€œIs that true , Maurice?” asked Dangerous Beans.
    He asked the question quite politely, but it was clear that what he was really saying was “I don’t think that is true, Maurice.”
    Ah, yes…Dangerous Beans. Dangerous Beans was difficult to deal with. Really, he shouldn’t be. Back in the old days, Maurice thought, he wouldn’t even have eaten a rat so small and pale and generally ill looking.
    Maurice stared down at the little albino rat, with his snow-white fur and pinky eyes. Dangerous Beans did not stare back, because he was too shortsighted. Of course, being nearly blind was not too much of a drawback to a species that spent most of its time in the darkness and had a sense of smell that was, as far as Maurice could understand it, almost as good as sight and sound and speech all put together. Forexample, the rat always turned to face Maurice and looked directly at him when he spoke. It was uncanny. Maurice had known a blind cat that had walked into doors a lot, but Dangerous Beans never did that.
    Dangerous Beans wasn’t the head rat. That was Hamnpork’s job. Hamnpork was big and fierce and a bit scabby, and he didn’t much like having a newfangled brain and he certainly didn’t like talking to a cat. He’d been quite old when the rats had Changed, as they called it, and he said he was too old to Change. He left talking to Maurice to Dangerous Beans, who’d been born just after the Change. And that little rat was clever. Incredibly clever. Too clever. Maurice needed all his tricks when he was dealing with Dangerous Beans.
    â€œIt’s amazing, the stuff I know,” said Maurice, blinking slowly at him. “Anyway, it’s a nice-looking town. Looks rich to me. Now, what we’ll do is—”
    â€œAhem…”
    Maurice hated that sound. If there was a sound worse than Dangerous Beans asking one of his odd little questions, it was Peaches clearing her throat. It meant she was going to say something, very quietly, that was going to upset him.
    â€œYes?” he said sharply.
    â€œDo we really need to keep on doing this?” she said.
    â€œWell, of course, no ,” said Maurice. “I don’t have to be here at all . I’m a cat , right? A cat with my talents? Hah! I could’ve got myself a really cushy job with a conjurer. Or a ventriloskwist, maybe. There’s no end to the things I could be doing, right, ’cos people like cats. But owing to being incredibly, you know, stupid and kindhearted , I decided to help a bunch of rodents who are, and let’s be frank here, not exactly number-one favorites with humans. Now some of you”—and here he cast a yellow eye toward Dangerous Beans—“have some idea of going to some island somewhere and starting