for THE REAL LITTLE LUCIE OF NEWLANDS
ONCE upon a time there was a little girl called Lucie, who lived at a farm called Little-town.She was a good little girl--only she was always losing 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, has YOU found three pocket-handkins?" But the speckled hen ran into 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 climbed upon the stile and looked up at the hill behind Little- town-a hill that goes up--up--into the clouds as though it had no top!
And a great way up the hillside she thought she saw some white things spread upon the grass.
LUCIE scrambled up the hill as fast as her stout legs would carry her; she ran along a steep path-way--up and up--until Little--town was right away down below--she could have dropped a pebble down the chimney!
PRESENTLY she came to a spring, bubbling out from the hill-side.
Some one had stood a tin can upon a stone to catch the water--but the water was already running over, for the can was no bigger than an egg-cup! And where the sand upon the path was wet--there were 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-props cut from bracken stems, with lines of plaitedrushes, and a heap of tiny clothes pins--but no pocket-handkerchiefs!
But there was something else--a door! straight into the hill; and inside it some one 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 there 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, snuffle, and her eyes went twinkle, twinkle; and underneath her cap--where Lucie had yellow curls--that little person had PRICKLES!
"WHO are you?" said Lucie."Have you seen my pocket-handkins?"The little person made a bob-curtsey--"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 a 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 toCock Robin!"
And she ironed it and folded it, and put it on one side.
THEN she took something else off a clothes-horse-- "That isn't my pinny?" said Lucie.
"Oh no, if you please'm; that's a damask table-cloth belonging to Jenny Wren; look how it's stained with currant wine! It's very bad to wash!" said Mrs.Tiggy- winkle.
MRS.TIGGY-WINKLE'S nose went sniffle, sniffle, snuffle, and her eyes went twinkle, twinkle; and she fetched another hot iron from the fire.
