"There's one of my pocket-
handkins!" cried Lucie—"and there's
my pinny!"
Mrs. Tiggy-winkle ironed it, and
goffered it, and shook out the frills.
"Oh that IS lovely!" said Lucie.
"And what are those long yellow
things with fingers like gloves?"
"Oh that's a pair of stockings
belonging to Sally Henny-penny—look
how she's worn the heels out with
scratching in the yard! She'll very soon
go barefoot!" said Mrs. Tiggy-winkle.
"Why, there's another hankersniff—
but it isn't mine; it's red?"
"Oh no, if you please'm; that one
belongs to old Mrs. Rabbit; and it DID
so smell of onions! I've had to wash it
separately, I can't get out that smell."
"There's another one of mine," said Lucie.
"What are those funny little white things?"
"That's a pair of mittens belonging
to Tabby Kitten; I only have to iron
them; she washes them herself."
"There's my last pocket-handkin!"
said Lucie.
"And what are you dipping into the
basin of starch?"
"They're little dicky shirt-fronts
belonging to Tom Titmouse—most
terrible particular!" said Mrs. Tiggy-
winkle. "Now I've finished my ironing;
I'm going to air some clothes."
"What are these dear soft fluffy
things?" said Lucie.
"Oh those are woolly coats
belonging to the little lambs at
Skelghyl."
"Will their jackets take off?" asked
Lucie.
"Oh yes, if you please'm; look at the
sheep-mark on the shoulder. And
here's one marked for Gatesgarth,
and three that come from Little-town.
They're ALWAYS marked at washing!"
said Mrs. Tiggy-winkle.
And she hung up all sorts and sizes
of clothes—small brown coats of
mice; and one velvety black moleskin
waist-coat; and a red tail-coat with
no tail belonging to Squirrel Nutkin;
and a very much shrunk blue jacket
belonging to Peter Rabbit; and a
petticoat, not marked, that had gone
lost in the washing—and at last the
basket was empty!
Then Mrs. Tiggy-winkle made
tea—a cup for herself and a cup for
Lucie. They sat before the fire on a
bench and looked sideways at one
another. Mrs. Tiggy-winkle's hand,
holding the tea-cup, was very very
brown, and very very wrinkly with the
soap-suds; and all through her gown
and her cap, there were HAIRPINS
sticking wrong end out; so that Lucie
didn't like to sit too near her.
When they had finished tea, they
tied up the clothes in bundles; and
Lucie's pocket-handkerchiefs were
folded up inside her clean pinny, and
fastened with a silver safety-pin.
And then they made up the fire
with turf, and came out and locked
the door, and hid the key under the
door-sill.
Then away down the hill trotted
Lucie and Mrs. Tiggy-winkle with the
bundles of clothes!
All the way down the path little
animals came out of the fern to meet
them; the very first that they met
were Peter Rabbit and Benjamin
Bunny!
And she gave them their nice clean
clothes; and all the little animals and
birds were so very much obliged to
dear Mrs. Tiggy-winkle.
So that at the bottom of the hill
when they came to the stile, there was
nothing left to carry except Lucie's
one little bundle.
Lucie scrambled up the stile with
the bundle in her hand; and then she
turned to say "Good-night," and to
thank the washer-woman.—But what
a VERY odd thing! Mrs. Tiggy-winkle
had not waited either for thanks or
for the washing bill!
She was running running running
up the hill—and where was her white
frilled cap? and her shawl? and her
gown-and her petticoat?
And HOW small she had grown—
and HOW brown—and covered with
PRICKLES!
Why! Mrs. Tiggy-winkle was
nothing but a HEDGEHOG!
* * * * * *
(Now some people say that little Lucie
had been asleep upon the stile—but then
how could she have found three clean
pocket-handkins and a pinny, pinned with a
silver safety-pin?
And besides—I have seen that door into
the back of the hill called Cat Bells—and
besides I am very well acquainted with dear
Mrs. Tiggy-winkle!)
THE PIE AND THE PATTY-PAN
Pussy-cat sits by the fire—how should she be fair?
In walks the little dog—says "Pussy are you there?
How do you do Mistress Pussy? Mistress Pussy, how
do you do?"
"I thank you kindly, little dog, I fare as well as you!"
[Old Rhyme]
Once upon a time there was a
Pussy-cat called Ribby, who invited a
little dog called Duchess to tea.
"Come in good time, my dear
Duchess," said Ribby's letter, "and we
will have something so very nice. I am
baking it in a pie-dish—a pie-dish
with a pink rim. You never tasted
anything so good! And YOU shall eat it
all! I will eat muffins, my dear
Duchess!" wrote Ribby.
"I will come very punctually, my
dear Ribby," wrote Duchess; and then
at the end she added—"I hope it isn't
mouse?"
And then she thought that did not
look quite polite; so she scratched out
"isn't mouse" and changed it to "I
hope it will be fine," and she gave her
letter to the postman.
But she thought a great deal about
Ribby's pie, and she read Ribby's letter
over and over again.