42
I waved him over. “Are you
gerattimo Stilton
?” he asked,
looking me over.
I shook my head. “Yes, I
mean, no, I mean the name is
Geronimo. Geronimo Stilton.”
He stared down at his sign.
“But it says here Gerattimo,’”
he squeaked.
I took a deep breath. I
practiced a little meditation exercise I had
learned. “Remain calm,” I chanted under
my breath. “Don’t get upset.”
“They must have gotten it wrong at the
agency,” I explained in a slow voice. “My
name is Geronimo. G-E-R-O-N-I-M-O,” I
repeated.
The mouse scratched his whiskers. “Are
you
sure
?”
SAN SHABBY FUR ISLAND
WELCOME,
gerattimo
Stilton.
Trust Me,
You’ll Like It!