CHAPTER VI.
UNDER THE SNOW
“IT’S getting so warm, it is. I can hardly find any breff,” cried Kiddiwee.
“I call it beautifully cosy. This is how the snow keeps the flowers warm, I suppose. I like it,” said Coppertop.
“Oh, dear! It’s getting hotterer and hotterer!” he panted.
“The snow is melting all round us—we shall soon have room to walk,” said his sister. “And there will be more air, too.”
“The question is, how are we going to get out?” cried Tibbs.
“If you had any sense—which I very much doubt—you wouldn’t want to, at least till the blizzard’s gone!” piped up a little shrill voice beside them. And looking down, they beheld a tiny little creature, so wee that, small as they were just then, he made them feel like giants. He was so very minute that he could have built a ninety-roomed castle on Coppertop’s little finger-nail, and hung out the household washing upon one of her golden eyelashes, if she had been her natural size.
“Make yourselves at home—you’re quite welcome,” continued the small voice.
“Is this YOUR home?” asked Coppertop.
“Yes, more or less. Let me explain,” went on the little voice. “My name is Mr. A. Tom—Atom for short.”