"You go downhill to the hollow," said the Marten, gently. "Right at the bottom you will find an oak-stump, and if you look inside it (which I don't advise), you will find a family of Polecats."
And perhaps you will be good enough to get higher up the Tree, while I come underneath
"Polecats?" said the Fox Cub.
"Yes, Polecats," said the Marten.
"Turn up to the left at the stump, and make for the silver birch at the top of the rise. The hole is close by that."
"Much obliged," said the Fox Cub, "and perhaps you will be good enough to get higher up the tree, while I come underneath."
"Certainly," said the Marten. From twig to twig she sprang, so daintily, so airily, that a mere flutter signalled her ascent.
"Will this do?" cried she from the topmost branch. Her forefeet hung on its extremity; her hind-feet curved and dangled; her tail twitched underneath her.