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Honza and Dash: In the City of the Big Castle
Honza and Dash: In the City of the Big Castle

Season 1, Episode 8 · 2 years ago

08 - The First Snow

ABOUT THIS EPISODE

Get the ebook: http://bit.ly/smhad08


Honza is a very brave field mouse. Though he is not from the City of the Big Castle, like his best friend Dash, he has made his home in the village of the Tower mice. His curtains are open today. There must be adventure.

A story moment with Hansa and Dash in the city of the big castle. Get more episodes at story momentcom season one, episode eight, the first snow there is a tower just off of Old Town Square in the city of the big castle. On every side is a clock face, but the western side is the largest. And though it can't be seen from the ground, if you look carefully, above the eleventh hour there is a little window. This is Hansa's window. Hansa is a very brave field mouse, though he is not from the city of the big castle. Like his best friend Dash, he has made his home in the village of the tower mice. His curtains are open today. There must be adventure. Hans's tail was very stiff when he woke up that morning. During the night, the wind pushed open his little window just large enough to send a breeze right across Hansa's bed. However, it was not the warm autumn breeze he normally enjoyed. He pulled the little red blanket up over his shoulders, but now his feet popped out. He turned over on to his side, pulled his feet deep under the blanket, but now his tail pushed far into the cold air, it's still use...

...he thought to himself. He must shut the window. He took a deep breath and darted from his warm bed to the window. Pushing aside the little blue curtain, he pulled and latched the window closed. quickly, he leaped back into bed, huddled his legs and tail beneath him and pulled the blanket over his body. Suddenly he stood up on his bed, rushed over to the curtains and threw open the window. A wide smile spread across his face as a burst of the coldest air he'd ever felt knocked him over. Though it was now much colder than before, Hans's tail thawed out and perked straight up. He leaned his head out the window and scanned the street below. Normally, there would be hundreds of people covering the square, pausing over and over to stare up at the giant clock as the hour changes, but when Hansa looked, he didn't see a single person. Instead, as though some one had gently spread cake frosting over every surface of Old Town Square. Snow he shouted loud enough to wake Miss Maggie from next door. were she not always up long before Hansa? He dove for the boots he kept in a match box turned upright for a dresser. Pulling them on, he hopped out the front door and made straight for the passageway leading down to the street. He wrapped both arms around the rope used to sound the bell in the tower and slid down quickly. He burst through the small set of double doors and stopped. His breath caught in his chest. His cold room was nothing compared...

...to the street. He let out his breath and watched it hang in the air like wisps of smoke. The snow all around him was pristine white and shining like millions of crystals. He reached down and took a handful of it and stuck it straight into his mouth. His Lips froze at the sensation of the cold snow, but he liked it. Shivers ran down his spine. In his excitement to get outside, he had entirely forgotten to put on his jacket, his scarf or his mittens. In fact, he stood there in his boots and his bedclothes. Hansa hurried back up the rope to the mouse village. Just as he reached his door, he whipped around at the sound of someone shouting his name. It was Da, I was just coming to get you. Have you seen it? It's the first snow. Noticed his wet boots and shivering shoulders. You've already been outside, haven't you? How was it? Was it wonderful? It will be shivered, Hansa, once I get my scarf, hat and mittens. It's freezing out there. Waited outside while Hansa changed into warmer clothes. I'm glad you help me find these mittens. Doesn't it snow in the country where you were with your grandfather? Sure it does, replied Hanza, but I couldn't bring everything with me when I came to the city. The two young mice headed back for the street. As they passed dash his house, her little brother, Martin, ran out their door dressed in his snow clothes as well. Don't forget me, yelled Martin. Dash and Hansa hurried a little faster down the rope and out...

...of the double doors. Martin soon joined them. Don't forget to close the doors, Dash said to Martin. Her little brother turned around and carefully closed the double doors. What shall we do first, he asked as he turned back around. Find something to use as a sled make snow. Mice Hansa and dash were not there. Hey, where'd you guys go? Martin turned back towards the door, looking for his sister splush. Dash doubled over and laughter as a snowball smashed into Martin's back. Let's start with this, she said, letting fly another snowball and then hiding behind a large stick near the wall. This time, Martin quickly ducked down and let the snowball whizz just overhead between his ears. He jumped up laughing, forming a snowball of his own and ready to launch it at his sister. Dash was shaking her head back and forth slowly and pointing beyond Martin. I'm not falling for that trick, said Martin. Now Hansa spoke. No, Martin, quick look behind you. The snowball which passed between Martin's ears had sailed over towards the duble doors and hit an older mouse right on his nose. Snow dripped down over the brim of the old mouse's hat onto his thick winter coat. The three young mice dove behind the stick and hid. The old mouse glared in their directions and shouted, why'd you rot off, shaking the snow from his jacket, the little old mouse turned and entered the tower. Who is that? Asked Tonza, once the coast was clear. You don't know, old Mr...

Whittle, responded. Dash Hansa shook his head. Martin jumped in. He is the oldest and grumpiest mouse who ever lived, I've heard. He almost never comes out of his house and no one has ever been inside really. Asked Tonza. No said, but he is old and grumpy for sure. After waiting a few minutes to make sure he was gone, the three mice soon forgot about Mr Whittle and proceeded to enjoy the snow. They had snowball fights and built snow mice with pointed ears and twigs used for tails. As morning turned to afternoon, the mice grew tired and hungry. Since they rushed out the door with the first side of snow, they had entirely forgotten to eat breakfast. Now it is not an odd thing for a young mouse to miss a meal, especially in the winter when food was hard to find in the city, but three mice can only go so far on a grumbling stomach. Hansa, why don't you come over for lunch. MOM's making soup, said Dash. Sounds good to me, said Hansa. He knew better than to turn down a meal at the Short Tail House, since, arriving in the city of the big castle, Dash became a sister to him and her family treated him as though it were true. The smell of missus short tail's mixed vegetable soup met them in the passage way and carried them all the way back to dash's house. Once inside, they removed their boots and hung up their jackets. Mom, can Hansa come to lunch, yelled Dash Martin, then added Dash already asked him, so we hope you say yes. Missus short tail poked her head out the kitchen door. Darya rose. She began...

...with a stern look on her face. You Know Hans is always welcome. Her face turned to a smile, but thank you for asking. Hi, Hansa. The soups on the table whenever you're ready. Thank you, Missus shortail, Hansa said politely. With that, the three finished hanging up their snow clothes. However, Hansa couldnot stop laughing. What asked? Hansa stopped laughing long enough to say she called you, Darya, Rose replied by Punching Hanza in the shoulder. How my name is dash she said firmly, and headed for the kitchen. Martin laughed at Hansa. Never call her Daria, he said. Hansa considered ignoring the advice, but then changed his mind when he felt his shoulder. Good idea, said Hansa. It was only the four of them for lunch that day, as Mr Short tail was on a scouting mission to find new places to gather food scraps. It gets very hard to find food this time of year. Mr Short tail has to go farther and farther each time. But enough about that. Did you all enjoy the snow asked missus short tail, Hansa and both nodded, their mouths full of soup. Martin swallowed his bite and spoke up. Yeah, at least Mr Whittled didn't see us. What's this? What do you mean? Martin glared across the table at her brother. Martin zipped his lips and sat there quietly. What is this, Dar area, asked Mrs Short tail. One of the snowballs we were throwing hit Mr Whittle. It was an accident. Mrs...

Short Tail, frowned. Did you apologize? looked down at her soup. No, we hid instead so he wouldn't know it was us. DREA rose this time. Hans it did not laugh. Short tails are known to be kind mice and I will not have you hurting people, even accidentally, and not making amends. Mrs Short tail stood up. All three of you are going to take the rest of this soup over to Mr Whittell right now and apologize like the good young mice you are. Martin looked at his mom through the snowball. Do I need to go? Mrs shortail just stared at him. Yes, ma'am. Martin said Mr Whittle lived on the other side of the market in the village. As the three walked through the market square, they discussed their plan. You through the snowball, so you should knock, said Hansa. Fine, replied Mr Whittle. Slowly ease the door open at dashes, soft wraps on the hard wood. Yes, who is it, came a gruff voice. Mr Whittle, we've brought you some soup, called back Dash. WHO's we said the voice again. It's that Daria Short Tale, said Da, glaring at Hansa, who was smiling again. With Hanza and Martin. The door flew open. Well, stop standing about to make the soup cold. Come inside already, said Mr Whittle, beckoning them in with his hand. The three young mice hesitated. Mr Whittle stood to the side holding the door open. They entered into a large room. It was...

...the largest room they'd seen in the village. There was a warm fireplace burning brightly in one corner. A comfortable looking chair stood in front of it, with stacks and stacks of old books scattered around its legs. Mr Whittle took the soup from Dash and set it on top of one of the piles. Please thank your mother for me, Dash. His face turned strawberry red. You're surprised. I know your nickname, asked Mr Whittle. And you, Mr Hanza. You came to the village just this year. Am I correct? Yes, sir, my grandfather sent me. I lived with him. Mr Whittle interrupted and finished Hans's sentence. In a small cottage on or a large oak tree. Hansa was surprised at how correct Mr Whittle was. Yes, he muttered, I know, I'm very familiar with your grandfather. You are pressed, Hanza. Oh, yes, but we'll leave that for another time. The Room went silent for a moment and young Martin, I presume, asked Mr Whittle. Martin stared with large eyes and nodded his head. Just stared at her feet. What is it, Young Lady? You look like you have something to say. We're sorry, Mr Whittle, for hitting you with the snowball this morning. Mr Whittle shook his head back and forth. Hans was now examining his feet as well. I have to say I was very disappointed. Mr Whittle continued. Yes, sir, said Hansa. We apologize. Mr Whittle just smiled. I would say you should. I was about to hit you with a Zinger of a snowball when I looked up and you were all gone, hiding behind that large stick. I suppose you...

...were going to throw one at us. Why? Asked? Of course you would challenge me to a duel. I haven't had a good snowball duel since I was young. As you, I was excited but, like I said, you hid. I we were afraid you might be angry and and we were scared of you, said Hansa. Mr Whittle stood quietly for a few moments. You were scared of me. Yes, they replied. You were scared of me. Ha Ha, ha ha. I'm just a little old mouse. Mr would allough so hard he gripped the arms of his chair just to keep from spilling himself onto the floor. His soup nearly toppled off. He regained himself and continued. I was so excited when I saw the first snow arrived. Are rushed out. Well, I don't exactly rush anymore, but you understand. I saw the three of you and got even more excited. Most people think I'm too old to play games, but sometimes even old mice need a bit of silly play in the snow. The young mice stood with surprised looks on their faces. Hansa looked at in a way that she could understand what he was thinking. She nodded her head in agreement. Mr Whittle, would you like to come and play in the snow with us now, said timidly. It felt funny to ask an old mouse such a silly question as that, but she felt it was the right question to ask. Mr Whittle's eyes grew brighter than the fire our place. Yes, I think I would like that very much, he said. If I can remember right, I could throw a farther and harder than anyone in the tower. Plus,...

I often only have my books for company. I could use some excitement from some young mice like you. Soon they were all standing outside the double doors. Hansa chose Martin to be on his team, while teamed up with Mr Whittle. Each team then built a collection of snowballs. Okay, on the count of three, yelled Mr Whittle, already seeming like a much younger mouse. One, two, three. At first, Hansa was still a little scared to hit Mr Whittle with a snowball on purpose. However, after Mr Whittle Got Hansa twice right in the chest, the fear wore off. Mr Whittle had excellent aim. For every snowball that Hansa or was able to throw Mr Whittle through three, Martin just hid behind the big stick making more snowballs for Hansa to throw. When there's snow, clothes were soaking wet and very little snow was left in the area near the double doors. They call the truce. However, not before Mr Whittle was able to let down an avalanche of snow that it gathered on an exposed brick above. Digging themselves out of the snow, Hans and Martin threw their hands into the air. We give up, they yelled as they headed back up the passageway. Hansa asked the question he'd been thinking of for some time. Mr Whittle, will you tell me how you know my grandfather? I'd love to hear any stories you know of him. Oh, exclaimed Mr Whittle. I know lots of stories of your grandfather, as many of his stories are also my stories. We were the best of friends when we were young mice like you living in this very tower. You were exclaimed. Oh yes, but I think I'll save those stories till next time. Next time, asked Hansa. Of course,...

...it would make me very happy if you'd come visit me. Sometimes you don't even have to bring soup. Definitely, said Hansa, and they bid Mr Whittlell goodbye. Remember, with each episode you did both the Audio Ain't the EAP. Put them on all your devices and choose your next series at story Momentcom we hope you enjoyed Hans and, in the say of the Big Castle, I'd be right to done. In Sixteen.

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