They attacked the remaining cookies.
"I wonder how many cookies I could eat," said Andy dreamily as they began their thirteenth.
"I've had most enough," said Hortense taking another bite.
Then she began to feel very strange. Everything about her seemed to grow larger and larger, except Andy. The entrance to the basement seemed as wide as the barn door; the lilac bush over her head looked as big as an oak tree, and the piece of cooky in her hand as big as a dinner plate.
"What's happened to us?" Andy asked.
"I believe," said Hortense, "that we've grown small, or everything else big. I don't know which."
"How'll we ever grow big again?" Andy asked.
"We won't worry about that now," said Hortense practically. "It'll be lots of fun to be small. We can hide so nobody can find us and surprise people. I believe I could climb right into one of Highboy's drawers, or even into the jar where Grandpa keeps his tobacco."
"Mother'll never be able to find me when she wants me to weed the garden," said Andy hopefully.
Hortense's eyes grew wide, and she looked at Andy with a great idea in her eyes.