this text was translated from Russian
thanks to
Julie Bihn (http://juliestudio.simplenet.com/index.html)
for checking my grammar
- You-u and me-e-e, - Chip who sitting at the checker-bo-
ard, flinched. - It will always be-e-e...
- He's come back again! - Dale said shocked, feeling his
padded eye. The electric light was turned off in the Ranger
headquarters; the candle wick emitted fumes and shadows on the
walls rushed about like an instigator to their actions.
- That's enough! - Chip declared haughtily. - This mangy
mouse will be chasing after our Gadget?! It's impossible!
Chip went stealthily to the window and half-opened the
transom that had been installed after a slightly troublesome
incident yesterday. Their recent acquaintance - a mouse who
was not discouraged by the black-out - stood at the roots of
the oak, lulling his bandaged paw and singing with his ugly
falsetto:
- ...and nothing can stop me-e-e...
Chip lost all patience.
- Wasn't yesterday enough entertainment for you?!! - He
began to yell. - Do you have to come back for more?
What's the matter with Chip's aristocratic manners? This
cheeky mouse who thinks too much of himself, who thinks he can
please Gadget, is a challenge of common sense. It's good that
Gadget knows nothing about him - she already left the city
with Monty and Zipper three days ago for a visit to Monty's
friends.
- He can scream "Help!" very well in a trench with his
voice, - Dale added from behind.
- ...mo-o-on and the stars, - the trouble mouse sang off
key, not paying attention to the chipmunks.
- I don't like that, - Chip worried. - If this LongTail
will come back when Gadget... No! We should break him of the
habit of visiting! C'mon, Dale, let's teach him a lesson on
good form!
And Chip pulled his hat over his eyes. Of course, Dale
didn't want that strange mouse close to Gadget either, but he
had been given more bruises than Chip yesterday, and one of
his eyes was swelled up and couldn't see anything.
- Please, Chipper, - Dale lamented. - Don't fight him
again... Let's drop our typewriter from the workshop on him,
okey?
- No! He must cry uncle before! And he must promise that
he'll never come close to having Gadget! Let's go!
- It's only fo-o-o-or... YOU! - The singer cut himself
off and struck a blow with his plastered paw on the surpri-
se-attacking chipmunks. Chip avoided the strike and the mouse
kicked Dale's head by his paw. It sounded like a "boom" of an
empty barrel and Dale was thrown back to the oak.
The fight has started. Three little squirrels who were
playing not far from the place of the hearty welcome have
dropped their acorns and now watch chipmunk and mouse fighting
- it looks like a growling furry tangle of ears, paws and ta-
ils. A white female mouse, the ladyfriend of Gadget, who lives
under the neighbour oak, is driving her baby mice into the mo-
usehole to keep them from viewing the distressing sight.
- Poor Gadget, - she sighs, closing the door. - I know
why she still doesn't have a boy-friend...
The end
|