As he tramped along, Herbert Mouse's mind began to 'wander - away from his threadbare shoes - and patchy clothes - his somewhat meagre existence.
"I want to be a pop-singer," thought be, "but then again, the squeak sound has gone out - perhaps I could be a knight and save fair young mouselets in distress - but no - I can't ride a horse. I know. I'll be an astronaut - perhaps the moon is made of green cheese - that would be delightful - oh gosh! How could I ever wear one of those heavy helmets? No, that's not the answer... King Herbert! that's what I'll be. I'll have dancing girl mice from Arabia and palaces full of gold and jewels - never go hungry - there'll be enough stale bread and cheese to nibble on for life - I'll rule the world - everything on earth shall obey me. Men shall bow to my slightest whim ..." - the cat's paw descended with a thwack.
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