Good news, friends: the Mouse in a Cardigan is back in stock. This is the fifth time I have restocked him since June, which I consider a record, and a sign that the world, whatever its faults, still loves a small mouse in a smaller cardigan. He wears a cable pattern in oatmeal, with four wooden buttons, and he carries a tiny briefcase containing, I am told, nothing.
I should say that he is not, strictly speaking, a new mouse. The same one has come back to me three times, for reasons of fit, colour and, once, a quarrel with a dog. I rework him each time, with care, and he goes out again as good as new. I have started to feel he has a certain look in his eye. A tired look. A wool look.
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