He ran down one of the passage ways, but finding no one, he came back and tried another. At the end of this one, in a cosy little room, he came unexpectedly upon an old acquaintance, Mrs. Mole, who was taking a comfortable afternoon nap.
She awoke with such a start of surprise at seeing Mr. Bushy Tail, that she nearly fell out of her rocking-chair.
“I did not hear you knock,” said she.
“I did not knock, I dropped,” said he.
Then he told her of his accident, and apologized most politely, for falling so unceremoniously down her chimney.
Mrs. Mole assured him that he was a welcome visitor at any time, and only regretted that her chimney had tripped him up.
She was very sorry that her husband and sons were away on business, but urged him strongly to stay to supper.
With many thanks Mr. Bushy Tail was obliged to decline her polite invitation, but he assured her that, considering his hungry family, he must hurry home with his bag of food as soon as possible, and begged her to kindly show him the nearest way out of her maze-like house.
When, after following Mrs. Mole through a number of long, winding, passages, Mr. Bushy Tail came at last to the surface of the ground, it was snowing hard, and the dreaded North wind was blowing half a gale.