The Rodent's Gazette
Geronimo Stilton - Editor Volume 1, Issue 5 - June 2004
The Archives: New Mouse City Happenings
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WHO WILL BE THE NEXT MAYOR OF NEW MOUSE CITY?

Election Race Kicks Off with Cheese Tasting
By Tylerat Truemouse

NEW MOUSE CITY The rat race is officially on. There are eight months remain until Election Day, and the candidates are all getting excited and trying to out-cheese each other in every way they can. Last night at the Town Hall Cheese Tasting, they had their first big opportunity to prove themselves. Naturally, The Rodent’s Gazette was on the scene to find out what our readers want to know: WHICH CANDIDATE HAS THE BEST TASTE?

Candidates were blindfolded and presented with a selection of cheeses. They were asked to taste a cheese, identify it, and rate it for flavor, aroma, and overall quality.

Here’s a look at the top candidates’ responses:
Thumbelina Twitchit: She was able to identify the Maytag bleu (impressive), but called it only “mildly interesting,” “somewhat smelly,” and of “ho-hum quality.”
John Mousey: He immediately misidentified the St. Andre, calling it “brie,” and went on and on about its “creamy beauty,” “delicate nose,” and “excellent form.”
George Bigrat: He was unable to identify the cheddar (!), saying it was “some kind of orange cheese,” “absolutely without smell,” and said it tasted “just OK.”

Well, if last night’s Cheese Tasting affair is any indicator, there’s still a long way to go before the citizens of New Mouse City can feel confident about choosing their new leader. Rodents of taste, who would like to run for mayor, now is the time to step forward!

NINE-YEAR-OLD MOUSE A HERO
Single Pawedly Pulls Father from the Waves
By Larry Keys

MOUSEFORT BEACH Sunday started out as a beautiful day. Clear, sunny skies; a gentle breeze. But in a moment, all that changed.

Nine-year-old Harry Havarti had been begging his dad, Herman Havarti, to take him to the beach for weeks. He’d been swimming laps at the local pool every day. His dream was to become a surfer or a lifeguard.

Finally, on Sunday, Mr. Havarti relented. They packed a cooler with cheddar cheese sandwiches, cheese puffs, and cans of lemonade. They remembered towels, hats, and sunscreen. They were ready.

They drove the 25 miles to Mousefort Beach without incident, Harry dreaming of the water, Herman unusually silent. “I felt like my dad was hiding something, but I didn’t want to pry,” Harry said.

When they arrived at the beach, all was calm. In fact, there was no one at the beach AT ALL. Unfortunately, Harry and Mr. Havarti hadn’t noticed the sign that was posted in the parking lot: “Flash Storm Warning: You’d Be a Cheddarbrain to Go Swimming Today!”

Harry was thrilled that they had the whole beach to themselves. He ran ahead and staked out the best spot for their towels and cooler. And then he ran for the shore.

Mr. Havarti waded in a few feet and watched Harry swim and dive for shells. “Come on in, Dad! The water’s great!” Harry remembers yelling.

At that moment, disaster struck. Without warning, the sky grew dark. The wind began to blow harder. The waves grew bigger. MUCH bigger. Harry broke to the surface and all around him were mountainous peaks the size of Cheddar Crag. “DAD!” he yelled. “DAD!”

Suddenly Harry spotted two ears poking out of the water at the bottom of an enormous wave. He summoned all his strength and dove. He managed to grab his dad in the life-saving grip he’d learned at summer camp. Then, as quickly as the storm had arisen, it ended. Harry dragged his dad to shore and gave him mouse-to-mouse resuscitation.

“Dad told me later that he couldn’t swim. I never knew that!” Harry said. Mr. Havarti added, “My son’s a hero. I’m very lucky. Next weekend he’s going to start giving me swimming lessons.”


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