Publisher's Synopsis
"What is my little Alfred crying for?" asked his mother, Mrs. Clifford, as she entered the room where Alfred stood weeping by the table. Come here, and tell me what is the matter with you." Alfred slowly advanced towards his mother, and wiped away his tears with her apron. Alfred was but a little boy, or he would not have cried for such a simple thing as he did. "Well, Alfred, and what is it?" asked his kind mamma. "Why, mamma, you know that nice plum cake you gave me for saying my lesson well; I had put it in the cupboard, as I did not want to eat it then, and I came just now to take a little nibble at it; and when I opened the closet-door to look for it, there was an ugly brown mouse in the closet, and hardly a scrap of my cake left; that greedy thing had eaten it all but a few crumbs." And here Alfred's tears flowed afresh. "I am very sorry, my dear child, that the mouse has eaten your cake; but still, I do not think it 6 was worth shedding so many tears about: you must learn to bear such trifling disappointments with more patience. I dare say, the mouse has eaten my sugar and cake, but I shall not cry if it has."
