THE TALE OF MRS. TITTLEMOUSE

She bundled the spider out at a window.
He let himself down the hedge with a long thin bit of string.

Mrs. Tittlemouse went on her way to a distant storeroom,
to fetch cherry-stones and thistle-down seed for dinner.
All along the passage she sniffed, and looked at the floor.
"I smell a smell of honey ; is it the cowslips outside,
in the hedge ? I am sure I can see the marks of little dirty feet."


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