Read The Tale of Despereaux Online
Authors: Kate DiCamillo
Also by Kate DiCamillo:
Because of Winn-Dixie
The Magician’s Elephant
The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane
The Tiger Rising
Mercy Watson to the Rescue
Mercy Watson Goes for a Ride
Mercy Watson Fights Crime
Mercy Watson: Princess in Disguise
Mercy Watson Thinks Like a Pig
Mercy Watson:
Something Wonky This Way Comes
Great Joy
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or, if real, are used fictitiously.
Text copyright © 2003 by Kate DiCamillo
Cover and interior illustrations copyright © 2003 by Timothy Basil Ering
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in an information retrieval system in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, taping, and recording, without prior written permission from the publisher.
First electronic edition 2009
The Library of Congress has cataloged the hardcover edition as follows:
DiCamillo, Kate.
The tale of Despereaux / Kate DiCamillo ; illustrated by Timothy Basil Ering. — 1st ed.
p. cm.
Summary: The adventures of Despereaux Tilling, a small mouse of unusual talents, the princess that he loves, the servant girl who longs to be a princess, and a devious rat determined to bring them all to ruin.
ISBN 978-0-7636-1722-6 (hardcover)
[1. Fairy tales. 2. Mice — Fiction] I. Ering, Timothy B., ill. II. Title.
PZ8.D525 Tal 2003
[Fic] — dc21 2002034760
ISBN 978-0-7636-2529-0 (paperback)
ISBN 978-0-7636-4943-2 (electronic)
The illustrations for this book were done in pencil.
Candlewick Press
99 Dover Street
Somerville, Massachusetts 02144
visit us at
www.candlewick.com
For Luke, who asked for
the story of an unlikely hero
Contents
Book the Third
GOR! THE TALE OF MIGGERY SOW
Book the Fourth
RECALLED TO THE LIGHT
The world is dark, and light is precious.
Come closer, dear reader.
You must trust me.
I am telling you a story.
THIS STORY BEGINS within the walls of a castle, with the birth of a mouse. A small mouse. The last mouse born to his parents and the only one of his litter to be born alive.
“Where are my babies?” said the exhausted mother when the ordeal was through. “Show to me my babies.”
The father mouse held the one small mouse up high.
“There is only this one,” he said. “The others are dead.”
“
Mon Dieu,
just the one mouse baby?”
“Just the one. Will you name him?”
“All of that work for nothing,” said the mother. She sighed. “It is so sad. It is such the disappointment.” She was a French mouse who had arrived at the castle long ago in the luggage of a visiting French diplomat. “Disappointment” was one of her favorite words. She used it often.
“Will you name him?” repeated the father.
“Will I name him? Will I name him? Of course, I will name him, but he will only die like the others. Oh, so sad. Oh, such the tragedy.”
The mouse mother held a handkerchief to her nose and then waved it in front of her face. She sniffed. “I will name him. Yes. I will name this mouse Despereaux, for all the sadness, for the many despairs in this place. Now, where is my mirror?”
Her husband handed her a small shard of mirror. The mouse mother, whose name was Antoinette, looked at her reflection and gasped aloud. “Toulèse,” she said to one of her sons, “get for me my makeup bag. My eyes are a fright.”
While Antoinette touched up her eye makeup, the mouse father put Despereaux down on a bed made of blanket scraps. The April sun, weak but determined, shone through a castle window and from there squeezed itself through a small hole in the wall and placed one golden finger on the little mouse.
The other, older mice children gathered around to stare at Despereaux.
“His ears are too big,” said his sister Merlot. “Those are the biggest ears I’ve ever seen.”