Peering over the edge of it were a pair of bright little oilspot eyes。
〃Mr。 Jingles；〃 I said in a low voice。 〃e over here。 e on over here； old boy； and see this lady。〃
I squatted down … it hurt； but I managed … and held out my hand。 At first I didn't think he was going to be able to get over the side of the box this time； but he made it with one final lunge。 He landed on his side； then regained his feet； and came over to me。 He ran with a hitching limp in one of his back legs； the injury that Percy had inflicted had e back in Mr。 Jingles's old age。 His old； old age。 Except for the top of his head and the tip of his tail； his fur had gone entirely gray。
He hopped onto the palm of my hand。 I raised him up and he stretched his neck out； sniffing at my breath with his ears laid back and his tiny dark eyes avid。 I held my hand out toward Elaine； who looked at the mouse with wide…eyed wonder； her lips parted。
〃It can't be〃； she said； and raised her eyes to me。 〃Oh Paul； it isn't 。 。。 it can't be！〃
〃Watch；〃 I said； 〃and then tell me that。〃
From the bag on the table I took a spool which I had colored myself … not with Crayolas but with Magic Markers； an invention undreamed of in 1932。 It came to the same； though。 It was as bright as Del's had been； maybe brighter。 Messieurs et mesdames； I thought。 Bienvenue au cirque du mousie！
I squatted again； and Mr。 Jingles ran off my palm。 He was old； but as obsessed as ever。 From the moment I