"You'd better bring him," Grandfather[p. 99] Mole answered. And anybody could see that he was vastly relieved.
A little later Mrs. Wren called to him again.
"What shall I do?" she asked. "He won't mind me. And he's too heavy for me to carry."
"That's Moses, without a doubt!" Grandfather Mole declared. "Yes! If he won't mind, it's certainly my grandson Moses. He's the littlest of the family; and his mother has always spoiled him.... I suppose"—Grandfather Mole added—"I suppose I'll have to go and get him."
"Wait a moment!" Mrs. Wren suddenly sang out. "There's some mistake. This little fellow says his name isn't Moses!"
Well, Grandfather Mole's mouth fell open, he was so surprised. "Then what's his name?" he demanded.[p. 100]
"He says it's Mr. Shrew. And he seems very angry over something or other," Mrs. Wren explained.