Peeping out from behind the gnarled roots of Old Oak, Little Mouse, with eyes bright as dewdrops, whispered cheerily to the new day, "Oh, what splendid morning light graces the world! What cheer, Old Oak, what cheer!" Old Oak, wise and deep-rooted, murmured back with a voice like the rustle of leaves, "Good morn to you, tiny herald of dawn. The forest awakes; what tales will you gather in your scurrying today?"