Beatrix Potter Books

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Sometimes on Saturdays he went to look at the hamper lying by the gate, but he knew better than to get in again. And nobody got out, though Johnny Town-mouse had half promised a visit.
The winter passed; the sun came out again; Timmy Willie sat by
his burrow warming his little fur coat and sniffing the smell of
violets and spring grass. He had
nearly forgotten his visit to town.
When up the sandy path all spick and span with a brown leather bag came Johnny Town-mouse!