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Summary
Summary
A resilient and quirky colony of church mice fears another Great X more than they fear cats. Under Mouse Mistress Hildegarde's leadership, they save themselves from one danger after another--sometimes just by the skin of their tails! Can one ultimate act of bravery during the feast day of St. Francis get Father Murphy to bless these mice and keep them safe forever?Rife with humor and personality, this young middle-grade novel has an old-fashioned feel with the makings of a modern classic.
Author Notes
Lois Lowry (nee Lois Ann Hammersberg) was born on March 20, 1937, in Honolulu, Hawaii. She was educated at both Brown University and the University of Southern Maine. Before becoming an author, she worked as a photographer and a freelance journalist.
Her first book, A Summer to Die, was published in 1977. Since then she has written over 30 books for young adults including Gathering Blue, Messenger, the Anastasia Krupnik series, and Son. She has received numerous awards including: The New York Times Best Seller,the International Reading Association's Children's Literature Award, the American Library Association Notable Book Award Citation and two Newberry Medals for Number the Stars in 1990, and The Giver in 1993. She was also awarded an honorary Doctorate of Letters by Brown University in 2014.
The Giver is part of a Quartet of books; it is the first book, followed by Gathering Blue, messenger and Son. The Giver has been met with a diversity of reactions from schools in America, some of which have adopted it as a part of the mandatory curriculum, while others have prohibited the book's inclusion in classroom studies. It was also made into a feature film of the same name released in 2014. Lois Lowry also made the Hans Christian Andersen Awards 2016 finalists in the author category.
(Bowker Author Biography)
Reviews (2)
School Library Journal Review
Gr 2-4-The colony of mice living in the recesses of St. Bartholomew's Church is facing two threats: the Great X, periodically called upon when humans suspect rodents; and the ubiquitous presence of cats when rain brings the annual Blessing of the Animals on the Feast of St. Francis indoors. Failed attempts to foil Father Murphy's plan to summon the exterminator force Mouse Mistress Hildegarde to lead all 219 church mice on a dangerous excursion Outdoors and into the nearby cemetery. From there, with the help of mouse colleagues Roderick and Ignatious, she dispatches a team that successfully disengages the sticky traps set by the Great X. With this challenge behind them, the mice must now steer clear of the cats during the Blessing ceremony. But Hildegarde cannot resist participating to receive a blessing on behalf of all of the mice, and, in a triumphant conclusion to the story, she marches in the procession, astonishing Father Murphy and inexplicably setting all the cats to purring as organ music swells. While some of the ecclesiastical references are a bit oblique and sure to be enigmatic to the intended audience, this transitional novel is likely to be enjoyed by future readers of Avi's "Poppy" sequence (HarperCollins). Pen-and-ink illustrations, many full-page, enhance the story, and an overhead diagram of the church elucidates some of the terminology in the text.-Marie Orlando, formerly at Suffolk Cooperative Library System, Bellport, NY (c) Copyright 2011. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Publisher's Weekly Review
An endangered community of church mice stars in Lowry's old-fashioned animal fantasy. When the mice of St. Bartholomew's-already fearing the annual Blessing of the Animals that brings an onslaught of cats into their home-learn that too many mouse sightings have prompted kind Father Murphy to call in the dreaded "Great X" (exterminator), their Mouse Mistress, the commanding Hildegarde, plots an exodus to the unknown territory of Outdoors. "Hildegarde had an EX of her own now to plan... a special kind of EX she had learned about from listening to readings from the Bible." "Peopled" with characters no less endearing for being stereotypical-a loudmouthed adolescent, a learned elder, a loyal and somewhat foolish cohort, and a disagreeable contender for Hildegarde's position-the book is an impeccably constructed, good-humored adventure filled with master plans, near disasters, and brave rescues, all gently frightening for readers even younger than the target audience. Lowry (The Birthday Ball) creates a cozy church environment of lenient sextons, disheveled organists, and skittish Altar Guild ladies, from a mouse's point-of-view. Fun and lighthearted. Final art not seen by PW. Ages 9-12. (Mar.) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved.
Excerpts
Excerpts
Chapter A Bad Time for Babies Hildegarde sighed, a loud, squeaking, outraged sort of sigh, when she was informed that a new litter of mouselets had been born in the sexton's closet. Such bad timing! Such bad placement! She scurried from the sacristy, the private room where Father Murphy's special priestly clothes were stored. She'd been napping there comfortably, until Roderick, whiskers twitching, woke her with the news. Oh, he was a busybody, no question! Always looking for a reaction. Well, he got one this time! She was furious.Checking carefully to be certain there were no humans around (sometimes the Altar Guild ladies dropped in during the afternoons to rearrange flowers), Hildegarde tiptoed quickly into the large, high-ceilinged church itself, through the side section known as the transept, and entered the central area called the nave. Audaciously she hurried down the center aisle, ready at any instant to disappear into a pew and under a kneeler if someone entered. But the sanctuary was empty and quiet and she made her way, undisturbed, down its length.Next she found herself in the narthex. Hildegarde so liked the formal names for the parts of the church. If she were in an ordinary house, she thought, twitching her nose at the idea, this would be known as the front hall. What an ordinary name! Narthex had a ring to it. You knew you were in an important place when you entered a narthex! There was a tiny opening here, beside the front door, where the floor had settled slightly. Through the opening Hildegarde could enter the wall. The church mice all used this as an entry or exit because stairswere a problem for them. It was easier to ascend or descend inside the wall, where there were tangled wires and frayed insulation to cling to. Carefully, she scurried downward.Now, having made her way below, she was in the interior wall of the undercroft. Since Hildegarde had lived in Saint Bartholemew's all her life she knew the route by heart, especially where to scramble over the copper pipes and how to avoid the places where drifting insulation made her sneeze. There were many exits here in the undercroft: one, she recalled, amused as she passed it, into the nursery, a noisy place on Sunday mornings and best avoided. Babies in general were best avoided. They spent time on the floor, could see into crevices, and had graspy hands.But at least babies couldn't talk, and report a mouse sighting! The group to be most feared, Hildegard thought, was the Altar Guild. More than one of the ladies had actually shrieked upon happening on a mouse. Oh, dear. Always an uproar when that happened. (Men seemed to be more sensible about such things.)Finally, after passing countless Sunday School rooms and making her way carefully around the complicated piping of the bathrooms, Hildegarde arrived at the entrance, a small gnawed hole, to the sexton's closet. She winced when the ragged hole edge grabbed her sleek coat, but wriggled through; then, emerging on the other side within the closet itself, she fastidiously pulled her long, elegant tail through in one swoop.There they were, curled in a nest made from a pile of the sexton's cleaning rags: at least seven of them, it appeared, and bright pink, a color Hildegarde had always disliked. Annoyed, she looked around. She knew the mother would be nearby. No self-respecting mouse mother would leave infants this young alone. So someone was hiding."Show yourself!" Hildegarde commanded. She didn't use her commanding voice terribly often, even though she was the matriarch, the chosen Mouse Mistress, and therefore entitled. But she was angry, and ner-vous. The timing of this was so unfortunate.The mouse mother responded with a timid squeak, peeping out from between the ropy tangles of a moldy-smelling mop."I knew it would be you! I just knew it!" Hildegarde said."Who told?" squeaked the mouse, guiltily. She made her way over toward the litter, which was beginning to whimper and wiggle at the sound of her voice. She nudged them back into a tidy pile with her nose and then lay down beside the babies, looking up at Hildegarde."I simply guessed. It was obvious," Hildegarde said with a sniff. Of course it was Roderick who had told her. "That trashy little Millicent has reproduced again," he had announced in his arrogant, judgmental way, after he had poked Hildegarde with his nose and completely ruined her afternoon nap.She peered down at the young mother. "How many litters does this make?"Millicent cringed in embarrassment. "Four," she confessed."Four this year? Or four overall?" Hildegarde gave an exasperated sniff. "Oh, never mind. It doesn't matter. The point is, as mouse mistress, I am commanding you to stop this incessant reproduction! It's jeopardizing all of us. And particularly now. Do you realize it's late September?"Millicent rearranged herself and the mouselets squirmed against her. "Do you mean it will be cold soon? I can make a nest near a heating duct when the furnace comes on.""That is not at all what I mean. But you are going to have to move this litter someplace else right away. I don't think the sexton's here today. But he'll be in k 7 k tomorrow, I'm sure. And the instant he reaches for his cleaning rags . . ."Millicent squeaked at the thought."Exactly," Hildegarde went on. "Basically, the sexton is fairly tolerant. He'll ignore a few droppings. And I know he overlooked the shredding in his stack of newspapers, though he surely knew it was a nest. That was kind of him. But if he were to encounter . . . this! " She gestured toward the pile of pink mouselets. "Well! Do you recall the Great X?"Millicent cringed. "I've only heard about it," she said nervously."No, of course you don't remember. The last Great X was before you were born. But it was simply terrible. We lost half our population! I vowed not to let it happen again. No more haphazard, willy-nilly reproduction! Careful placement! No visibility!" She looked meaningfully at the litter, sleeping now, curled in the stained rags. "We've got to get you and these mouselets moved inside the wall right away."She considered the problem, then said, "There's k 8 k a perfectly good nest left empty after Zachariah's demise." She was silent for a moment, then crossed herself, murmured, "Lord rest his soul," and continued: "It's in the wall behind the men's room toilet. A little noisy, I'm afraid, because of flushing.""I don't mind flushing," Millicent squeaked."Let's get started, then. If you take one and I take another, we can get them all moved in three or four trips." Hildegarde leaned down and took a deep breath. "Oh," she muttered, "this is not pleasant at all." Then she grasped a mouselet by its neck and moved back through the hole into the wall, carrying it carefully, its miniature legs and tail dangling in a slightly wiggly way.Preparing to come after her, Millicent paused and said in a sulky voice, "Lucretia thinks they're cute."Hildegarde heard her but didn't dignify the comment with a response. She couldn't stand Lucretia, who had competed against her for the role of Mouse Mistress using unfair tactics, and had been a very poor sport about losing.She continued on, carrying the mouselet. But now she was even more furious. Lucretia! Her rival. Her worst enemy. And a liar, too. Cute? These mouselets were a hideous shade of pink, and their ribs showed. They were not cute at all. Excerpted from Bless This Mouse by Lois Lowry, Eric Rohmann All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.