Once upon a time, in a cozy little village, there lived a mouse named Max. Oh, how Max loved music! Every evening, when the sun cast long shadows over the lilac bushes, he would sit on a small mushroom under the old oak tree, listening attentively to the songs of the birds flitting to their nests. Sometimes, he would hum little tunes to himself, dreaming of the day he would play music for everyone to hear.
But there was one tiny problem. Max was very shy. Often, when a bird paused to listen to his humming, Max would blush a soft shade of pink and stop. “No one can hear my music,” he would think sadly. So he kept his talent a secret.
Every Saturday, all the animals gathered in the town square for a grand concert. Squirrels tapped on drums made of acorns, rabbits strummed on grasses that produced sweet sounds, and frogs croaked beautifully, creating a wonderful symphony under the soft light of stars. But Max always stood in a corner, little Max did not dare to squeak even one note. All he could do was tap his tiny foot in time to the music.
One Saturday morning, however, the weather turned very bad indeed, with pouring rain and howling winds. Max worried for his friends and felt very sad when he thought how disappointed they would all be. But he knew how to make them happy!
Quickly he ran to his house and brought back a large mushroom, placing it upside down in the middle of the square. Then he climbed on the mushroom top, and when he tapped on the stalk with his paw, all the animals stopped their noise.
“Dear friends,” squeaked Max in his most pleasant tone, “may I suggest that we give a concert under this mushroom, where we will all be dry?”
“An excellent idea, Max,” cried the rabbits, and the frogs chirped their eager approval. And so everyone gathered around Max’s mushroom to keep out of the rain, and when Max tapped on the mushroom stalk again with his paw, the concert began.
Max’s heart glowed with happiness, for never had he heard such merry music. The sound of the frogs came rolling down from the hill-tops on the opposite side of the square.
Suddenly the rain ceased. A great round moon came sailing through the ragged clouds, and the stars burst forth in dazzling splendor. Max, tapping energetically on the mushroom stalk, did not notice what was going on around him till a clapping of paws made him look down.
The villagers stood in a large circle, a group of mice making up one half, rabbits, squirrels, and birds forming the other. At their head was old Father Owl with one eye closed.
“Max, we have come to thank thee,” he said. “Thy music has given us much joy. Please play a little dance for us before we leave.”
“Is it really my music thou hast come to hear?” squeaked Max, half in joy and half in fear. Oh, why had he not done this long ago! Each pair of happy eyes told him that every villager loved him, and this gave him courage.
Max was not shy any longer, and all the evening he played, and all the evening everyone danced. And so everyone danced, frolicking about under the moon and stars to the sweet music of little Max’s violin.