"Well, well. A mouse that hopes to do a lion a good turn! By helping me to hunt, maybe? Or would you rather roar in my place?" The mouse was at a loss for words. "Sire, I really . . ." "All right. You can go," said the lion, shortly, opening his paw. The mouse scurried thankfully away. Some days later, the lion fell into a trap and found he was caught fast in a stout net. Try as he might, he could not a escape. And the more he struggled, the more he became entangled in the mesh, till even his paws were held fast. He could not move an inch: it was the end. His strength, claws and fearsome fangs gave him no help in freeing himself from the tangle. He was about to resign himself to a cruel fate when he heard a small voice: "Do you need help, Sire?"
Exhausted by his struggles, his eyes wet with rage, the lion looked round. "Oh, it's you! I'm afraid there's little you can do for me . . ."
But the mouse broke in: "I can gnaw the ropes. I have strong teeth and, though it will take me some time, I'll manage." So the little mouse quickly gnawed at the meshes and soon the lion tugged a paw free, then another, till he finally succeeded in working himself free of the net.
"You see, Sire, said the mouse, "I've done you a good turn in exchange for the favour you did me in letting me go unharmed."
"How right you are. Never before has a big animal like myself had to be so grateful to a little scrap like you!"

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Thanks to Tom Burke for the story

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