THE TALE OF MRS. TIGGY-WINKLE

I WAS LOOKING THROUGH MY CHINA CLOSET OF ALL THE THINGS I COLLECTED THROUGH THE YEARS. I CAME ACROSS MY MRS. TIGGY-WINKLE COLLECTION. I HAVE THE BOOK WRITTEN BY BEATRIX POTTER.
BEATRIX POTTER WAS BORN IN LONDON IN 1866, SHE WAS LONELY AS A CHILD. SHE WENT TO ART SCHOOL, AND STUDIED HISTORY. THE FIRST PETER RABBIT WAS A SCHOOLROOM PET, SHE LOVED THE COUNTRYSIDE, AND SPENT HER HOLIDAYS IN SCOTLAND, AND LATER IN THE ENGLISH LAKE DISTRICT, WHERE SHE MADE HER HOME FOR THE LAST THIRTY YEARS OF HER LIFE.


WHEN BEATRIX POTTER WROTE AND ILLUSTRATED THE STORY OF PETER RABBIT, SHE HAD NO IDEA HOW POPULAR THIS STORY WOULD BECOME.

SHE WROTE 22 MORE STORIES, AND THEY ALSO BECOME VERY POPULAR. MY FAVORITE IS THE TALE OF MRS TIGGY-WINKLE, AND I WOULD LIKE TO SHARE IT WITH YOU.

THIS STORY IS ABOUT A LITTLE GIRL NAMED LUCIE, AND SHE LOST HER POCKET HANDKINS [HANDKERCHIEFS)

LUCIE LIVED AT A FARM CALLED LITTLE-TOWN. SHE WAS A GOOD LITTLE GIRL-ONLY SHE ALWAYS LOST HER POCKET HANDKERCHIEFS!

ONE DAY LITTLE LUCIE CAME INTO THE FARM-YARD CRYING--OH, SHE DID CRY SO! "I'VE LOST MY POCKET-HANDKIN! THREE HANDKINS AND A PINNY! HAVE YOU SEEN THEM, TABBY KITTEN?"

THE KITTEN WENT ON WASHING HER WHITE PAWS; SO LUCIE ASKED A SPECKLED HEN--'SALLY HENNY-PENNY, HAVE YOU FOUND THREE POCKET-HANDKINS?"

BUT THE SPECKLED HEN RAN INTO THE A BARN, CLUCKING--"I GO BAREFOOT, BAREFOOT, BAREFOOT!"

AND THEN LUCIE ASKED COCK ROBIN SITTING ON A TWIG. COCK ROBIN LOOKED SIDEWAYS AT LUCIE WITH HIS BRIGHT BLACK EYE, AND HE FLEW OVER A STILE AND AWAY. LUCIE SCRAMBLED UP THE HILL AS FAST AS HER STOUT LEGS WOULD CARRY HER; SHE RAN ALONG A STEEP PATHWAY--UP AND UP--UNTIL LITTLE-TOWN WAS RIGHT DOWN BELOW--LUCIE CAME TO A SPRING, BUBBLING OUT FROM THE HILL-SIDE. SOMEONE STOOD A TINY TIN CAN TO CATCH THE WATER--AND WHERE THE THE SAND UPON THE PATH WAS WET--THERE WERE TINY LITTLE FOOT-MARKS OF A VERY SMALL PERSON. LUCIE RAN ON AND ON. THE PATH ENDED UNDER A BIG ROCK. THE GRASS WAS SHORT AND GREEN, AND THERE WERE CLOTHES HANGING, AND CLOTHES PINS ALL AROUND. BUT NO POCKET- HANDKERCHIEFS!

BUT THERE WAS SOMETHING ELSE--A DOOR! STRAIGHT INTO THE HILL; AND INSIDE IT SOMEONE WAS SINGING.

"LILY-WHITE AND CLEAN, OH!

WITH LITTLE FRILLS BETWEEN, OH!

SMOOTH AND HOT--RED RUSTY SPOT

NEVER HERE BE SEEN OH!"

LUCIE, KNOCKED--ONCE--TWICE, AND INTERRUPTED THE SONG. A LITTLE FRIGHTENED VOICE CALLED OUT "WHO'S THAT?" LUCIE OPENED THE DOOR, AND WHAT DO YOU THINK WAS INSIDE THE HILL?--A NICE CLEAN KITCHEN WITH A FLAGGED FLOOR AND WOODEN BEAMS--JUST LIKE ANY OTHER FARM KITCHEN. ONLY THE CEILING WAS SO LOW THAT LUCIE'S HEAD NEARLY TOUCHED IT; AND THE POTS AND PANS WERE SMALL, AND SO WAS EVERYTHING THERE.

THERE WAS A NICE HOT SINGEY SMELL; AND AT THE TABLE, WITH AN IRON IN HER HAND STOOD A VERY STOUT SHORT PERSON STARING ANXIOUSLY AT LUCIE.

HER PRINT GOWN WAS TUCKED UP, AND SHE WAS WEARING A LARGE APRON OVER HER STRIPED PETTICOAT. HER LITTLE BLACK NOSE WENT SNIFFLE, SNIFFLE, SNIFFLE, AND HER EYES WENT TWINKLE, TWINKLE; AND UNDERNEATH HER CAP--WERE LUCIE HAS YELLOW CURLS--THAT LITTLE PERSON HAD PRICKLES!

"WHO ARE YOU?" SAID LUCIE. "HAVE YOU SEEN MY POCKET-HANDKINS?"

"OH, YES, IF YOU PLEASE'M; MY NAME IS MRS TIGGY-WINKLE; OH, YES IF YOU PLEASE'M I'M AN EXCELLENT CLEAR-STARCHER!" AND SHE TOOK SOMETHING OUT OF THE CLOTHES BASKET, AND SPREAD IT ON THE IRONING BLANKET.

"WHAT'S THAT THING?" SAID LUCIE--"THAT'S NOT MY POCKET HANDKIN?" "OH NO, IF YOU PLEASE'M; THAT'S A LITTLE SCARLET WAIST-COAT BELONGING TO COCK ROBIN!" SHE IRONED IT, AND FOLDED IT AND PUT IT ON THE SIDE.

THEN SHE TOOK SOMETHING ELSE OUT OF HER BASKET
"THAT'S NOT MY PINNY." (PINAFORE) "OH NO, IF YOU PLEASE'M; THAT'S A DAMASK TABLECLOTH BELONGING TO JENNY WREN; MRS. TIGGY-WINKLE'S NOSE WENT SNIFFLE, SNIFFLE, SNIFFLE, AND HER EYES WENT TWINKLE, TWINKLE; AND SHE FETCHED ANOTHER IRON FROM THE FIRE.
"THERE'S ONE OF MY POCKET HANDKINS!" CRIED LUCIE--"AND THERE'S MY PINNY!" MRS. TIGGY-WINKLE IRONED IT, AND GOFFERED IT, AND SHOOK OUT THE FRILLS. "OH THAT IS LOVELY!" SAID LUCIE.

"WHY THERE'S ANOTHER HANKERSNIFF----BUT IT ISN'T MINE; IT'S RED?" "OH NO, IF YOU PLEASE'M; THAT BELONS TO OLD MRS RABBIT, BUT I CAN'T GET THE ONION SMELL OUT." "THERE'S ANOTHER ONE OF MINE," SAID LUCIE.
"WHAT ARE THOSE FUNNY LITTLE WHITE THINGS?" "THAT'S A PAIR OF MITTENS BELONGING TO TABBY KITTEN; I ONLY HAVE TO IRON THEM, SHE WASHES THEM HERSELF."

"THERE'S MY LAST POCKET-HANDKIN!" SAID LUCIE.

MRS. TIGGY-WINKLE, KEPT BUSY WITH HER IRONING, SHE HAD A BASIN OF STARCH, AND SHE WAS DIPPING DICKY SHIRT-FRONTS BELONGING TO TOM TITMOUSE."NOW I FINISHED MY IRONING, MUST AIR SOME CLOTHES."

"WHAT ARE THESE DEAR SOFT FLUFFY THINGS"? SAID LUCIE. "OH THOSE ARE WOOLLY COATS BELONGING TO THE LITTLE LAMBS AT SKELGHYL." MRS TIGGY-WINKLE HUNG UP ALL THE REST OF HER WASH, SMALL BROWN COATS OF MICE; ONE VELETY BLACK MOLE SKIN WAIST-COAT; AND A VERY MUCH SHRUNK BLUE JACKET THAT BELONGED TO PETER RABBIT; AND A PETTICOAT NOT MARKED, FINALLY THE BASKET WAS EMPTY.

THEN MRS. TIGGY-WINKLE MADE TEA--A CUP FOR HERSELF AND A CUP FOR LUCIE. THEY SAT BEFORE THE FIRE ON A BENCH AND LOOKED SIDEWAYS AT ONE ANOTHER.

MRS. TIGGY-WINKLE'S HAND, HOLDING THE TEA-CUP WAS VERY VERY BROWN, AND VERY VERY WRINKLY WITH SOAP-SUDS; AND ALL THROUGH HER GOWN AND HER CAP, THERE WERE HAIRPINS STICKING WRONG END OUT; SO THAT LUCIE DIDN'T LIKE TO SIT TOO NEAR HER. WHEN THEY HAD FINISHED TEA THEY TIED UP THE CLOTHES IN BUNDLES; AND LUCIE'S POCKET-HANDKERCHIEFS WERE FOLDED UP INSIDE HER CLEAN PINNY, AND FASTENED WITH A SILVER SAFETY-PIN. AND THEN THEY MADE UP THE FIRE WITH TURF, AND CAME OUT AND LOCKED THE DOOR, AND HID THE KEY UNDER THE DOOR-SILL.

ALL THE WAY DOWN THE PATH LITTLE ANIMALS CAME OUT OF THE FERN TO MEET THEM; THE VERY FIRST THAT THEY MET WERE PETER RABBIT AND BENJAMIN BUNNY! ALL THE ANIMALS AND LITTLE BIRDS WERE SO VERY MUCH OBLIGED TO DEAR MRS. TIGGY-WINKLE.

SO AT THE BOTTOM OF THE HILL WHEN THEY CAME TO THE STILE, THERE WAS NOTHING LEFT TO CARRY EXCEPT LUCIE'S ONE LITTLE BUNDLE.

LUCIE SCRAMBLED UP THE STILE WITH THE BUNDLE IN HER HAND; AND THEN SHE TURNED TO SAY "GOOD-NIGHT," AND TO THANK THE WASHER-WOMAN.

BUT WHAT A VERY ODD THING! MRS. TIGGY-WINKLE HAD NOT WAITED EITHER FOR THANKS OR THE WASHING BILL!

SHE WAS RUNNING, RUNNING, RUNNING UP THE HILL, AND WHERE WAS HER WHITE FRILLED CAP? AND HER SHAWL? AND HER GOWN--PETTICOAT?

AND HOW SMALL SHE HAD GROWN--AND HOW BROWN-AND COVERED WITH PRICKLES!WHY! MRS. TIGGY-WINKLE WAS NOTHING BUT A HEDGEHOG.

(NOW SOME PEOPLE SAY 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 AQUAINTED WITH DEAR MRS. TIGGY-WINKLE!)I HOPE YOU ENJOYED THE TALE OF MRS. TIGGY-WINKLE, BY BEATRIX POTTER. RIZZI