The Magic Flutes/The Return
THE RETURN
Open the door, Mother Mouse! Your eight sons are home from their wanderings. They can hardly carry all the gifts they have for you! They have groats as white as pearls, whole barrels of golden wheat, pieces of bacon and butter, and a storehouse full of gingerbread.
“Oh, look!“ exclaimed Mother Mouse in her happiness, “Look how gaily the fire burns! I think even my saucepan is happy! You, Father, must help prepare a glorious welcome. You must rush to hire a band. The whole village will gather beneath our little window to see our treasures. Won’t the gossips be jealous when they see what wonderful children we have! And what fine food!“
Father Mouse smoothed his whiskers as he listened. He raised his hand. “No, Mother, we don’t need a band. Our children play better than the musicians. Take your flutes, my sons; play a song at once. Your music will make pride and envy fall from all of us like yellow leaves from the linden tree.“
The flutes piped up merrily.
Immediately there was a great stir and bustle. From every chink and hole a Mouse ran out to swell the welcome. More and more came; the house was full.
But not one of the guests envied
Mother Mouse. They all wished only good fortune to the family. In perfect harmony they sat down to eat their porridge and honey. They ate and ate—until at last the pan was empty!
That ended the banquet, and everyone extended good wishes! Father Mouse thanked all the company; then proposing a health to his eight sons he licked the saucepan clean!
