Beatrix Potter Books

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Simpkin opened the door and bounced in, with an angry "G-r-r-miaw!" like a cat that is vexed: for he hated the snow, and there was snow in his ears, and snow in his collar at the back of his neck. He put down the loaf and the sausages upon the dresser, and sniffed.
"Simpkin," said the tailor, "where is my twist?"
But Simpkin set down the pipkin of milk upon the dresser, and looked suspiciously at the tea-cups. He wanted his supper of little
fat mouse!
"Simpkin," said the tailor, "where is my TWIST?"