Homer Price (10 page)

“That wouldn’t hurt the mice?” interrupted the barber.

“That wouldn’t hurt the mice,” Homer went on. “The mouse trap caught mice, all right. The only trouble was, it was too big. What with the organ and all, and sort of impractical for general use because somebody had to stay around and pump the organ.”

“Yes, I can see that wouldn’t be practical,” said Uncle Ulysses, stroking his chin—“But with a small electric motor . . .”

“But he solved it, Uncle Ulysses!—The whole idea seems very practical after you get used to it. He decided since the trap was too large to use in a house, he would fasten it onto his car, which he hadn’t used for so long anyway. Then, he could drive it to a town, and make a bargain with the mayor to remove all the mice. You see he would start the musical mouse trap to working, and drive up and down the streets and alleys. Then all of the mice would run out of the houses to get themselves caught in this trap that plays music that no mouse ever born can possibly resist. After the trap is full of mice, Mr. Murphy drives them out past the city limits, somewhere where they can’t find their way home, and lets them go.”

“Still without hurting them?” suggested the barber.

“Of course,” said Homer.

The sheriff chewed on his pencil, Uncle Ulysses stroked on his chin, and the barber ran his fingers through his hair.

Homer noticed the silence and said, “I guess the idea
is
sort of startling when you first hear about it. But, if a town has a water truck to sprinkle streets, and a street-sweeping truck to remove dirt, why shouldn’t they, maybe, just hire Mr. Murphy’s musical mouse trap once in a while to remove mice?” Uncle Ulysses stroked his chin again and then said, “By gum! This man Murphy is a genius!”

“I told Mr. Murphy that
you
would understand, Uncle
Ulysses!” said Homer with a grin. “I told him the mayor was a friend of yours, and you could talk him into anything, even hiring a musical mouse trap.”

“Whoever heard of a micical moostrap!” said the sheriff.

“That doesn’t hurt the
mice!
” added the barber. As Homer and Uncle Ulysses went off arm in arm to see the mayor.

It scarcely took Uncle Ulysses and Homer half an hour to convince the mayor that Mr. Murphy’s musical mouse trap should be hired to rid Centerburg of mice. While Uncle Ulysses chatted on with the mayor, Homer dashed over to the hotel to fetch Mr. Murphy.

Homer came back with the bearded inventor and introduced him to the mayor, and to Uncle Ulysses. The mayor opened a drawer of his desk and brought out a bag of jelly beans. “Have one,” he said to Mr. Murphy, to sort of break the ice and to make his shy visitor feel at home. Mr. Murphy relaxed and answered the mayor’s questions without blushing too much.

“How do we know this
thing of a jig
of yours will do what you say it will?” asked the mayor.

Mr. Murphy just whistled a few bars
“Tum tidy ay dee”
and a couple of mice jumped right out of the mayor’s desk!

“Of course,” Homer explained, “the mice come
quicker,
and get
removed
when the mouse trap plays that tune through the streets. Mr. Murphy guarantees to remove every single mouse from Centerburg for only thirty dollars.”

“It’s a bargain!” said the mayor, “I wondered where my jelly beans were disappearing to!” and he shook hands with Mr. Murphy. Then he proclaimed Saturday as the day for de-mousing Centerburg. By this time everyone knew that the shy stranger’s name was Michael Murphy, but people still spoke of him as Rip Van Winkle (Rip for short), because of the sheriff’s deduction. Everybody talked about the musical mouse trap (that didn’t hurt the mice) and the mayor’s de-mousing proclamation.

The children, especially, were looking forward to the great event. They watched with interest while Mr. Murphy went over his car and his musical trap to be sure everything was in perfect working order. Homer and Freddy and most of the other children were planning to follow the trap all around town Saturday, and see the mice come out and get caught in Michael Murphy’s musical trap.

“Gosh, Homer,” said Freddy, “let’s follow him until he lets them loose out in the country! That
will
be a sight, seeing all those mice let loose at once!”

“Well, Freddy, I’ve been thinking it might not be a good idea to follow the mouse trap past the city limits,” said Homer to Freddy’s surprise.

“You know, Freddy, I’ve been over at the library reading up on mice and music—music can do funny things sometimes. It can soothe savage beasts and charm snakes and
lots
of things. If we’re going to follow this musical trap till the mice are let loose, we better make some plans.”

Homer and Freddy spent all Friday recess period making plans. They decided that all the children should meet in the school yard before the de-mousing started on Saturday. They arranged a signal, thumbs up, if everything was going along all right; and thumbs down if any one was in trouble.

“It’s just to be on the safe side,” Homer explained.

*    *    *

Saturday dawned a beautiful crisp fall day, fine weather for the grand de-mousing of Centerburg. Mr. Michael Murphy came forth from the Strand Hotel, and after carefully slinging his long gray beard over his shoulder, he cranked his car and warmed up the engine. He carefully removed the canvas covering from the musical mouse trap and ever so painstakingly arranged the spiral ramps and runways so that no mouse, no matter how careless, could stub a toe or bump a nose. He then climbed behind the steering wheel and the musical mouse trap was under way!

A loud cheer arose from the crowd of children as Mr. Murphy yanked a lever and the reed organ started to play. Even before the cheering stopped the mice began to appear!

Through the streets of Centerburg rolled Mr. Michael Murphy and his musical mouse trap. The mice came running from every direction! Fat, doughnut fed mice from Uncle Ulysses lunch room, thin mice from the churches, ordinary mice from houses and homes, mice from the stores, and mice from the town hall.

They all went running up the ramps and runways and disappeared in Michael Murphy’s musical mouse trap. The children followed behind enjoying the whole thing almost as much as the mice.

After traveling down every street in town, the procession came to a stop in front of the town hall, and the mayor came out and presented Mr. Murphy with his thirty-dollar fee—thirty bright, crisp new one-dollar bills.

Just as the mayor finished counting out the bills into Mr. Murphy’s hand the sheriff stepped up and said, “Mr. Murphy, I hope this won’t embarrass you too much, in fact, I hate to mention it at all, but this here misical moostrap, I mean mouse trap of yours, has got a license plate that is thirty years old . . . A
new
license will cost you just exactly thirty dollars.”

Mr. Murphy blushed crimson under his beard. “It’s the law, you know, and
I
can’t help it!” apologized the sheriff.

Poor Mr. Murphy, poor
shy
Mr. Murphy! He handed his thirty dollars to the sheriff, took his new license plates and crept down the city hall steps. He climbed into his car and drove slowly away toward the edge of town, with the musical mouse trap playing its reedy music. The children followed along to see Mr. Murphy release all of the mice.

“I really hated to do that, Mayor,” said the sheriff as the procession turned out of sight on route 56A. “It’s the law you know, and if I hadn’t reminded him, he might have been arrested in the next town he visits.” There’s no telling how this de-mousing would have ended if the children’s librarian hadn’t come rushing up shouting “Sheriff! Sheriff! Quick!
We guessed the wrong book!
”

“What?” shouted the sheriff and the mayor and Uncle Ulysses.

“Yes!” gasped the children’s librarian, “not
Rip Van Winkle,
but
another
book,
The Pied Piper of Hamelin!”

“Geeminy Christmas!” yelled the sheriff, “and almost every child in town is followin’ him this very minute!”

The sheriff and the librarian and the mayor and Uncle Ulysses all jumped into the sheriff’s car and roared away after the procession. They met up with the children just outside the city limits. “Come back! Turn around, children!” they shouted.

“I’ll treat everybody to a doughnut!” yelled Uncle Ulysses.

The children didn’t seem to hear, and they kept right on following the musical mouse trap.

“The music must have affected their minds,” cried the librarian.

“Sheriff, we can’t lose all these children with election time coming up next month!” mourned the mayor. “Let’s give Murphy another thirty dollars!”

“That’s the idea,” said Uncle Ulysses. “Drive up next to him, Sheriff, and I’ll hand him the money.”

The sheriff’s car drew alongside the musical mouse trap, and Uncle Ulysses tossed a wad of thirty dollar bills onto the seat next to the shy Mr. Murphy.

“Please don’t take them away!” pleaded the librarian.

“Come, Murphy, let’s be reasonable,” shouted the mayor.

Mr. Murphy was very flustered, and his steering was distinctly wobbly.

Then the sheriff got riled and yelled at the top of his lungs,
“Get ’em low! Get ’em go! Durnit, Let ’em go!”