The Amazing Maurice and His Educated Rodents

talk to him properly, he can help us.'
    The mayor stared at the assembled ranks of the Clan. 'We should talk to rats ?' he said.
    'It would be a very good idea, Father.'
    'But they're rats!' The mayor seemed to be trying to hold on to this thought as if it was a lifebelt on a stormy sea, and he'd drown if he let go of it.
    ''Scuse me, 'scuse me,' said a voice from beside him. He looked down at a dirty, half-scorched cat, which grinned at him.
    'Did that cat just speak ?' said the mayor.
    Maurice looked around. 'Which one?' he said.
    'You! Did you just talk?'
    'Would you feel better if I said no?' said Maurice.
    'But cats can't talk!'
    'Well, I can't promise that I could give a, you know, full-length after-dinner speech, and don't ask me to do a comic monologue,' said Maurice, 'and I can't pronounce difficult words like "marmalade" and "lumbago". But I'm pretty happy with basic repartee and simple wholesome conversation. Speaking as a cat, I'd like to know what the rat has got to say.'
    'Mr Mayor?' said Keith, strolling up and twirling the new rat pipe in his fingers. 'Don't you think it's time I sorted out your rat problem once and for all?'
    'Sort it out? But-'
    'All you have to do is talk to them. Get your town council together and talk to them . It's up to you, Mr Mayor. You can yell and shout and call out the dogs and people can run around and flail at the rats with brooms and, yes, they'll run away. But they won't run far. And they'll come back.' When he was standing next to the bewildered man he leaned towards him and whispered, 'And they live under your floorboards, sir. They know how to use fire. They know all about poison. Oh, yes. So… listen to this rat.'
    'Is it threatening us?' said the Mayor, looking down at Darktan.
    'No, Mr Mayor,' said Darktan, 'I'm offering you…' He glanced at Maurice, who nodded. '… a wonderful opportunity.'
    'You really can talk? You can think?' said the mayor.
    Darktan looked up at him. It had been a long night. He didn't want to remember any of it. And now it was going to be a longer, harder day. He took a deep breath. 'Here's what I suggest,' he said. 'You pretend that rats can think, and I'll promise to pretend that humans can think, too.'

CHAPTER 12
    "Well done, Ratty Rupert!" cried the animals of Furry Bottom.
    - From Mr Bunnsy Has An Adventure
    The crowd clustered into the Rathaus's council hall. Most of it had to stay outside, craning over other people's heads to see what was going on.
    The town council was crammed around one end of their long table. A dozen or so of the senior rats were crouched at the other end.
    And, in the middle, was Maurice. He was suddenly there, leaping up from the floor.
    Hopwick the clockmaker glared at the other members of the council. 'We're talking to rats!' he snapped, trying to make himself heard above the hubbub. 'We'll be a laughing stock if this gets out! "The Town That Talked To Its Rats". Can't you just see it?'
    'Rats aren't there to be spoken to,' said Raufman the bootmaker, prodding the mayor with a finger. 'A mayor who knew his business would send for the ratcatchers!'
    'According to my daughter, they are locked in a cellar,' said the mayor. He stared at the finger.
    'Locked in by your talking rats?' said Raufman.
    'Locked in by my daughter,' said the mayor, calmly. 'Take your finger away, Mr Raufman. She's taken the watchmen down there. She's making very serious allegations, Mr Raufman. She says there's a lot of food stored under their shed. She says they've been stealing it and selling it to the river traders. The head rat-catcher is your brother-in-law, isn't he, Mr Raufman? I remember you were very keen to see him appointed, weren't you?'
    There was a commotion outside. Sergeant Doppelpunkt pushed his way through, grinning broadly, and laid a big sausage on the table.
    'One sausage is hardly theft ,' said Raufman.
    There was rather more commotion in the crowd, which parted to reveal what was, strictly speaking, a very slowly moving Corporal Knopf. This fact only became clear, though, when he'd been stripped of three bags of grain, eight strings of sausages, a barrel of pickled beetroot and fifteen cabbages.
    Sergeant Doppelpunkt saluted smartly, to the sound of muffled swearing and falling cabbages. 'Requesting permission to take six men to help us bring up the rest of the stuff, sir!' he said, beaming happily.
    'Where are the rat-catchers?' said the mayor.
    'In deep… trouble, sir,' said the sergeant. 'I asked them if