“After this terrible threat, Araminta Sophia handed him the green umbrella without a word; and then she tumbled over on the floor in a dead faint, and the old white cat, who caught all the spiders and mice in the perfectly funny little house, crept in and licked her face, until she came to and sat up straight.”
“That was nice of the old white cat,” said [Phronsie] to herself, [smoothing down her apron again in satisfaction.]
[Phronsie smoothed down her white apron in satisfaction.]
“But by that time the queer little old man was gone, and the green umbrella with him. At first he walked along quite fiercely, taking what he thought were very big steps, but they were little bits of mincing steps like”—
“Show us, Polly, do,” begged Van. So Polly hopped out from her seat behind the table, and amid peals of laughter she minced up and down like a tiny, queer little man, until she nearly tumbled over on her nose.
“Dear me!” she exclaimed, as she hopped into her seat again, “it’s perfectly dreadful to be so little. Well, where was I? Oh, well! off he stepped, holding up the green umbrella as proudly as possible, and wishing there was somebody to see how nice he looked; but there wasn’t, only a pig behind a fence looking out through the holes, and he didn’t care in the least, for he was grunting for something to eat, so you see the queer little old man had to go mincing and nipping on quite alone.
“Well, and before he knew it, he was stepping off very briskly. ‘Dear me, how young I feel!’ he exclaimed to himself. ‘It all comes of carrying this green umbrella; now I mean to take it out to walk every day.’ And as he finished the last word, he found himself running.
“‘This is perfectly splendid!’ he cried joyfully; ‘I don’t know when I’ve had such a good run. Now I’ll enjoy it till I get to that tree yonder; then I must stop, for I shall be quite tired.’