"
"There lived a man in a very small, queer little island called
Ingland, spelt 'Ing,' not 'Eng,' who--"
"It wasn't _our_ England, then?"
"On a tiny little island called Ingland, who was very lonely because
he was the only human being on it--"
"Weren't there animals and things too?"
"And the only animals who lived on it with him were a squirrel who
lived in the only tree, a rabbit who lived in the only hole, and a
small grey mouse who made its nest in the pocket of his other coat."
"Were they friendly? Did he love them awfully?"
"At first he was very polite to them only, because he was a civil
servant of his Government; but after a bit they became so friendly
that he loved them even better than himself, and went to tea with the
rabbit in its hole, and climbed the tree to share a nut-breakfast with
the squirrel, and--and--"
"He doesn't know what to do with the mouse," a loud whisper, meant to
be inaudible, broke in upon the fatal hesitation.
"And went out for walks with the mouse when the ground was damp and
the mouse complained of chilly feet. In the pocket of his coat, all
snug and warm, it stood on its hind legs and peered out upon the world
with its pointed nose just above the pocket flap--"
"Then he liked the mouse best?"
"What sort of coat was it? An overcoat or just an ordinary one that
smelt? Was that the only pocket in it?"
"It was made of the best leaves from the squirrel's tree, and from the
rabbit's last year's fur, and the mouse had fastened the edges
together neatly with the sharpest of its own discarded whiskers.
Pages:
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32