Only yesterday the young one known as Silent Sam was heard to speak. He was heard conversing with the son of Matthias and Cornflower. The young squirrel suddenly began to relate the sagea of the Late Rose Summer Wars to the baby mouse. I fear that we will not be able to stop him from talking, or his parents laughing with delight. The son of our warrior is a strong chubby little fellow. Everyone calls him Mattimeo because ',atthias Methuselah Mortimer' is to big a mouthful, but that was what his parents wished his name to be. Even now he tries long and hard often to lift the great sword Ratdeath. I think one day he is sure to succeed his father as Abbey Champion. Our Abbot, Mordalfus (no wonder he alwars preferred the name Alf, I mean, Mordalfus?), has declared that his first anniversary shall be marked by a huge feast. We are all invited. Constance has been pulling her cart around the woodland and meadows far and wide, bringing in guests.

The Guerrila Shrews are out collecting honey from the bee folk; they should have struck up a great friendship with the bees, even learning their own language so that they can argue with them.

The Sparra Queen Warbeak has appointed herself deputy to Friar Hugo. She shows a great interest in the culinary arts, though I fear she will grow quite fat before long. Lady Cornflower is out in the meadows with Mrs. Churchmouse, my wife, and Dunwing, the Sparra Queen Mother. They are gathering flowers for the tables. All about me the June sunshine is like liquid gold!

Basil Syag Hare has gone off on a journey to bring his friends Captain Snow and Squire Gingivere back to the Abbey with him. Basil is ignoring the fact that it is the Abbot’s anniversary. He constantly refers to it as ‘A Regimental Reunion Dinner.’ Winifred the otter, and the beaver, in company with the reprobate Ambrose Spike, are testing the quality of the October nutbrown ale. It must be particularly fine this year, judging from the sound of many rowdy ballads issuing from the wine cellars. Plumpen and his family of dormice are helping Foremole and his crew dig a roasting pit . Early this morning our Father Abbot went out fishing with Matthias the Warrior. They consider it no less than their bounden duty to bring back a larger fish than last year. The Joseph Bell which was broken has been recast into several smaller bells. I can hear them now. They are named Matthias and Methusaleh. My twin Churchmice, Tim and Tess, are growing quite sturdy over the past year. They are our Abbey bellringers, and a splendid job they make of it too! The crops are growing well. The fruit trees and bushes in the orchard show much promise. The old gatehouse is now a beautiful rambling cottage. The grass is green, the sky is blue, and the honey is sweeter than ever before. I will finish my writing now and go to prepare myself for tonight’s festivities, which will be held in their usual place, at Cavern Hole in Redwall Abbey. Please be sure to visit us if ever you are passing.