The Classic Tales. Volume VI

A cold nose and a warm tongue examined Tuppe

Sandy lifted Tuppe

The person addressed as Jane Ferret was an oldish person, about twelve inches high when she stood upright. She wore a cap, a brown stuff dress, and always a small crochet cross-over. She filled up the teapot from a kettle on the fire, and gave Tuppe

The circus company admired it prodigiously. “It is truly mar-veel-ious,”said the Dormouse stretching out a small pink hand, and touching a damp draggled tress. “Do you use hairpins?”  “I’m afraid, I’m sorry, I haven’t any,” twittered Tuppe

The sun had set. The red firelight danced and flickered round the camp circle. The pony dozed beside the caravan, lazily whisking his long tail. Sandy was lying stretched before the fire and panting with the heat. He watched Tuppe

“Wake up, wake up! Xarifa Dormouse! get into your sleeping box. And you, Tuppe

CHAPTER III

Moving Camp

Tuppe

When he woke again, it was broad daylight, and a bright windy morning. The caravan company was snugly encamped on a green level sward near an old stone quarry. There was a semi-circle of high gray rocks; topped with broom bushes, that swayed and bobbed in the rushing east wind. White clouds raced overhead; and Je

“Wake up! wake up! Xarifa!” whistled the starling, “wake up, new long-haired animal! My! what a mop of hair; it’s full of hay seeds.”  “What, what! you meddlesome bird! His hair is beautiful! It will draw crowds when he is dressed up,” said Paddy Pig, stirring vigorously.

“If I had hair like that, I could play ‘Sleeping Beauty,’” said the dormouse. She sat on the step of the caravan washing her face and hands rapidly, and cleaning her sleek chestnut coat. She had black beady eyes, very long whiskers, and a long furry tail with a white tip. Her nose and eyebrows were turning gray; she was a most sweet person, but slumberous. “Madam, you sleep, and you are beautiful!” said Paddy Pig, turning round and bowing low, with the wooden thivel [53] in his hand. The little fat old dormouse laughed till she shook like jelly. “Never mind, Tuppe

“MY! WHAT A MOP OF HAIR.”

So then began the brushing of the hair of Tuppe

She told him stories to keep herself awake; and she answered his many questions. “Who plays the fiddle, Xarifa?”  “Paddy Pig; Sandy plays the bagpipes; and each of them does step dancing. Paddy Pig dances jigs, and Sandy dances reels; and all of us do country dances. No, no, I am not too old and fat!” said Xarifa, laughing. “I can dance ‘Hunsdon House,’ and I can dance a minuet with Belinda Woodmouse. Perhaps we may be dancing this evening; but there is not much room in the quarry. We will soon be moving on again.”  “Do we always move in the night, Xarifa? Oh! oh! that hurts!”  “I shall have to snip it Tuppe