There's nothing wild about talking to mice,"" Lonny tells his parents. ""The real trick is to get them to talk to you."" One day, of course, Lonny's pet mouse Fendell does talk back, and his talk is all about his Uncle Feldman -- who is unfortunately not quite the character that Fendell and Mr. Benchley seem to think he is. At any rate, Feldman takes Fendell and Lonny into the night woods, where the other animals talk too --though to no particular point: ""My bloody radar's on the blink,"" announces the owl as he zigzags by; the owl calls Feldman (for protecting his nephew from capture) ""a party poop from the word go,"" and the otters (who have taken to capering at the full of the moon) fear that they have ""all blown (their) minds."" Later Feldman meets his end during a moment of romantic abandon: he is seized by the owl at the height of a moon dance he has obsessively organized among the mice. Handled differently, Feldman's tale might have been touching. Here, his death is a sentimental device that doesn't mesh with the would-be breezy badinage that sets the story's tone.