And how small she had grown—and how brown—and
covered with PRICKLES!
Why! Mrs. Tiggy-winkle was nothing but a
(Now some people say that little Lucie had been asleep
upon the stile—but then how could she have found three clean pocket-handkins and a pinny, pinned with
a silver safety-pin?
And besides—I have seen that door into the back of
the hill called Cat Bells—and besides I am very well
acquainted with dear Mrs. Tiggy-winkle!)