Commit dfcf599f authored by Michael Murtaugh's avatar Michael Murtaugh


parent 78b0fada
This source diff could not be displayed because it is too large. You can view the blob instead.
This is a Tale about a tail--a tail that belonged to a little red
squirrel, and his name was Nutkin.
He had a brother called Twinkleberry, and a great many cousins: they lived
in a wood at the edge of a lake.
In the middle of the lake there is an island covered with trees and nut
bushes; and amongst those trees stands a hollow oak-tree, which is the
house of an owl who is called Old Brown.
One autumn when the nuts were ripe, and the leaves on the hazel bushes
were golden and green--Nutkin and Twinkleberry and all the other little
squirrels came out of the wood, and down to the edge of the lake.
They made little rafts out of twigs, and they paddled away over the water
to Owl Island to gather nuts.
Each squirrel had a little sack and a large oar, and spread out his tail
for a sail.
They also took with them an offering of three fat mice as a present for
Old Brown, and put them down upon his door-step.
Then Twinkleberry and the other little squirrels each made a low bow, and
said politely--
"Old Mr. Brown, will you favour us with permission to gather nuts upon
your island?"
But Nutkin was excessively impertinent in his manners. He bobbed up and
down like a little red _cherry_, singing--
"Riddle me, riddle me, rot-tot-tote!
A little wee man, in a red red coat!
A staff in his hand, and a stone in his throat;
If you'll tell me this riddle, I'll give you a groat."
Now this riddle is as old as the hills; Mr. Brown paid no attention
whatever to Nutkin.
He shut his eyes obstinately and went to sleep.
The squirrels filled their little sacks with nuts, and sailed away home in
the evening.
But next morning they all came back again to Owl Island; and Twinkleberry
and the others brought a fine fat mole, and laid it on the stone in front
of Old Brown's doorway, and said--
"Mr. Brown, will you favour us with your gracious permission to gather
some more nuts?"
But Nutkin, who had no respect, began to dance up and down, tickling old
Mr. Brown with a _nettle_ and singing--
"Old Mr. B! Riddle-me-ree!
Hitty Pitty within the wall,
Hitty Pitty without the wall;
If you touch Hitty Pitty,
Hitty Pitty will bite you!"
Mr. Brown woke up suddenly and carried the mole into his house.
He shut the door in Nutkin's face. Presently a little thread of blue
_smoke_ from a wood fire came up from the top of the tree, and Nutkin
peeped through the key-hole and sang--
"A house full, a hole full!
And you cannot gather a bowl-full!"
The squirrels searched for nuts all over the island and filled their
little sacks.
But Nutkin gathered oak-apples--yellow and scarlet--and sat upon a
beech-stump playing marbles, and watching the door of old Mr. Brown.
On the third day the squirrels got up very early and went fishing; they
caught seven fat minnows as a present for Old Brown.
They paddled over the lake and landed under a crooked chestnut tree on Owl
Twinkleberry and six other little squirrels each carried a fat minnow; but
Nutkin, who had no nice manners, brought no present at all. He ran in
front, singing--
"The man in the wilderness said to me,
'How many strawberries grow in the sea?'
I answered him as I thought good--
'As many red herrings as grow in the wood.'"
But old Mr. Brown took no interest in riddles--not even when the answer
was provided for him.
On the fourth day the squirrels brought a present of six fat beetles,
which were as good as plums in _plum-pudding_ for Old Brown. Each beetle
was wrapped up carefully in a dock-leaf, fastened with a pine-needle pin.
But Nutkin sang as rudely as ever--
"Old Mr. B! riddle-me-ree
Flour of England, fruit of Spain,
Met together in a shower of rain;
Put in a bag tied round with a string,
If you'll tell me this riddle, I'll give you a ring!"
Which was ridiculous of Nutkin, because he had not got any ring to give to
Old Brown.
The other squirrels hunted up and down the nut bushes; but Nutkin
gathered robin's pincushions off a briar bush, and stuck them full of
pine-needle pins.
On the fifth day the squirrels brought a present of wild honey; it was so
sweet and sticky that they licked their fingers as they put it down upon
the stone. They had stolen it out of a bumble _bees'_ nest on the tippitty
top of the hill.
But Nutkin skipped up and down, singing--
"Hum-a-bum! buzz! buzz! Hum-a-bum buzz!
As I went over Tipple-tine
I met a flock of bonny swine;
Some yellow-nacked, some yellow backed!
They were the very bonniest swine
That e'er went over Tipple-tine."
Old Mr. Brown turned up his eyes in disgust at the impertinence of Nutkin.
But he ate up the honey!
The squirrels filled their little sacks with nuts.
But Nutkin sat upon a big flat rock, and played ninepins with a crab apple
and green fir-cones.
On the sixth day, which was Saturday, the squirrels came again for the
last time; they brought a new-laid _egg_ in a little rush basket as a last
parting present for Old Brown.
But Nutkin ran in front laughing, and shouting--
"Humpty Dumpty lies in the beck,
With a white counterpane round his neck,
Forty doctors and forty wrights,
Cannot put Humpty Dumpty to rights!"
Now old Mr. Brown took an interest in eggs; he opened one eye and shut it
again. But still he did not speak.
Nutkin became more and more impertinent--
"Old Mr. B! Old Mr. B!
Hickamore, Hackamore, on the King's kitchen door;
All the King's horses, and all the King's men,
Couldn't drive Hickamore, Hackamore,
Off the King's kitchen door."
Nutkin danced up and down like a _sunbeam_; but still Old Brown said
nothing at all.
Nutkin began again--
"Arthur O'Bower has broken his band,
He comes roaring up the land!
The King of Scots with all his power,
Cannot turn Arthur of the Bower!"
Nutkin made a whirring noise to sound like the _wind_, and he took a
running jump right onto the head of Old Brown!...
Then all at once there was a flutterment and a scufflement and a loud
The other squirrels scuttered away into the bushes.
When they came back very cautiously, peeping round the tree--there was Old
Brown sitting on his door-step, quite still, with his eyes closed, as if
nothing had happened.
* * * * *
_But Nutkin was in his waistcoat pocket!_
This looks like the end of the story; but it isn't.
Old Brown carried Nutkin into his house, and held him up by the tail,
intending to skin him; but Nutkin pulled so very hard that his tail broke
in two, and he dashed up the staircase and escaped out of the attic
And to this day, if you meet Nutkin up a tree and ask him a riddle, he
will throw sticks at you, and stamp his feet and scold, and shout--
ONCE upon a time there was a little fat comfortable grey squirrel,
called Timmy Tiptoes. He had a nest thatched with leaves in the top of a
tall tree; and he had a little squirrel wife called Goody.
TIMMY TIPTOES sat out, enjoying the breeze; he whisked his tail and
chuckled--"Little wife Goody, the nuts are ripe; we must lay up a store
for winter and spring." Goody Tiptoes was busy pushing moss under the
thatch--"The nest is so snug, we shall be sound asleep all winter."
"Then we shall wake up all the thinner, when there is nothing to eat in
spring-time," replied prudent Timothy.
WHEN Timmy and Goody Tiptoes came to the nut thicket, they found other
squirrels were there already.
Timmy took off his jacket and hung it on a twig; they worked away
quietly by themselves.
EVERY day they made several journeys and picked quantities of nuts. They
carried them away in bags, and stored them in several hollow stumps near
the tree where they had built their nest.
WHEN these stumps were full, they began to empty the bags into a hole
high up a tree, that had belonged to a wood-pecker; the nuts rattled
down--down--down inside.
"How shall you ever get them out again? It is like a money-box!" said
"I shall be much thinner before spring-time, my love," said Timmy
Tiptoes, peeping into the hole.
THEY did collect quantities--because they did not lose them! Squirrels
who bury their nuts in the ground lose more than half, because they
cannot remember the place.
The most forgetful squirrel in the wood was called Silvertail. He began
to dig, and he could not remember. And then he dug again and found some
nuts that did not belong to him; and there was a fight. And other
squirrels began to dig,--the whole wood was in commotion!
UNFORTUNATELY, just at this time a flock of little birds flew by, from
bush to bush, searching for green caterpillars and spiders. There were
several sorts of little birds, twittering different songs.
The first one sang--"Who's bin digging-up MY nuts? Who's-been-digging-up
MY nuts?"
And another sang--"Little bita bread and-NO-cheese! Little bit-a-bread
THE squirrels followed and listened. The first little bird flew into the
bush where Timmy and Goody Tiptoes were quietly tying up their bags, and
it sang--"Who's-bin digging-up MY nuts? Who's been digging-up MY-nuts?"
Timmy Tiptoes went on with his work without replying; indeed, the little
bird did not expect an answer. It was only singing its natural song, and
it meant nothing at all.
BUT when the other squirrels heard that song, they rushed upon Timmy
Tiptoes and cuffed and scratched him, and upset his bag of nuts. The
innocent little bird which had caused all the mischief, flew away in a
Timmy rolled over and over, and then turned tail and fled towards his
nest, followed by a crowd of squirrels shouting--"Who's-been digging-up
THEY caught him and dragged him up the very same tree, where there was
the little round hole, and they pushed him in. The hole was much too
small for Timmy Tiptoes' figure. They squeezed him dreadfully, it was a
wonder they did not break his ribs. "We will leave him here till he
confesses," said Silvertail Squirrel, and he shouted into the hole--
"Who's-been-digging-up MY-nuts?"
TIMMY TIPTOES made no reply; he had tumbled down inside the tree, upon
half a peck of nuts belonging to himself. He lay quite stunned and
GOODY TIPTOES picked up the nut bags and went home. She made a cup of
tea for Timmy; but he didn't come and didn't come.
Goody Tiptoes passed a lonely and unhappy night. Next morning she
ventured back to the nut-bushes to look for him; but the other unkind
squirrels drove her away.
She wandered all over the wood, calling--
"Timmy Tiptoes! Timmy Tiptoes! Oh, where is Timmy Tiptoes?"
IN the meantime Timmy Tiptoes came to his senses. He found himself
tucked up in a little moss bed, very much in the dark, feeling sore; it
seemed to be under ground. Timmy coughed and groaned, because his ribs
hurted him. There was a chirpy noise, and a small striped Chipmunk
appeared with a night light, and hoped he felt better?
It was most kind to Timmy Tiptoes; it lent him its nightcap; and the
house was full of provisions.
THE Chipmunk explained that it had rained nuts through the top of the
tree--"Besides, I found a few buried!" It laughed and chuckled when it
heard Timmy's story. While Timmy was confined to bed, it 'ticed him to
eat quantities--"But how shall I ever get out through that hole unless I
thin myself? My wife will be anxious!" "Just another nut--or two nuts;
let me crack them for you," said the Chipmunk. Timmy Tiptoes grew fatter
and fatter!
NOW Goody Tiptoes had set to work again by herself. She did not put any
more nuts into the woodpecker's hole, because she had always doubted how
they could be got out again. She hid them under a tree root; they
rattled down, down, down. Once when Goody emptied an extra big bagful,
there was a decided squeak; and next time Goody brought another bagful,
a little striped Chipmunk scrambled out in a hurry.
"IT is getting perfectly full-up down-stairs; the sitting-room is full,
and they are rolling along the passage; and my husband, Chippy Hackee,
has run away and left me. What is the explanation of these showers of
"I am sure I beg your pardon; I did not not know that anybody lived
here," said Mrs. Goody Tiptoes; "but where is Chippy Hackee? My husband,
Timmy Tiptoes, has run away too." "I know where Chippy is; a little bird
told me," said Mrs. Chippy Hackee.
SHE led the way to the woodpecker's tree, and they listened at the hole.
Down below there was a noise of nut crackers, and a fat squirrel voice
and a thin squirrel voice were singing together--
"My little old man and I fell out,
How shall we bring this matter about?
Bring it about as well as you can,
And get you gone, you little old man!"
"You could squeeze in, through that little round hole," said Goody
Tiptoes. "Yes, I could," said the Chipmunk, "but my husband, Chippy
Hackee, bites!"
Down below there was a noise of cracking nuts and nibbling; and then the
fat squirrel voice and the thin squirrel voice sang--
"For the diddlum day
Day diddle dum di!
Day diddle diddle dum day!"
THEN Goody peeped in at the hole, and called down--"Timmy Tiptoes! Oh
fie, Timmy Tiptoes!" And Timmy replied, "Is that you, Goody Tiptoes?
Why, certainly!"
He came up and kissed Goody through the hole; but he was so fat that he
could not get out.
Chippy Hackee was not too fat, but he did not want to come; he stayed
down below and chuckled.
AND so it went on for a fortnight; till a big wind blew off the top of
the tree, and opened up the hole and let in the rain.
Then Timmy Tiptoes came out, and went home with an umbrella.
BUT Chippy Hackee continued to camp out for another week, although it
was uncomfortable.
AT last a large bear came walking through the wood. Perhaps he also was
looking for nuts; he seemed to be sniffing around.
CHIPPY HACKEE went home in a hurry!
AND when Chippy Hackee got home, he found he had caught a cold in his
head; and he was more uncomfortable still.
And now Timmy and Goody Tiptoes keep their nut-store fastened up with a
little padlock.
AND whenever that little bird sees the Chipmunks, he
sings--"Who's-been-digging-up MY-nuts? Who's been digging-up MY-nuts?"
But nobody ever answers!
This diff is collapsed.
Johnny Town-mouse was born in a cupboard. Timmy Willie was born in a
garden. Timmy Willie was a little country mouse who went to town by
mistake in a hamper. The gardener sent vegetables to town once a week by
carrier; he packed them in a big hamper.
The gardener left the hamper by the garden gate, so that the carrier
could pick it up when he passed. Timmy Willie crept in through a hole in
the wicker-work, and after eating some peas--Timmy Willie fell fast
He awoke in a fright, while the hamper was being lifted into the carrier's
cart. Then there was a jolting, and a clattering of horse's feet; other
packages were thrown in; for miles and miles--jolt--jolt--jolt! and
Timmy Willie trembled amongst the jumbled up vegetables.
At last the cart stopped at a house, where the hamper was taken out,
carried in, and set down. The cook gave the carrier sixpence; the back
door banged, and the cart rumbled away. But there was no quiet; there
seemed to be hundreds of carts passing. Dogs barked; boys whistled in
the street; the cook laughed, the parlour maid ran up and down-stairs;
and a canary sang like a steam engine.
Timmy Willie, who had lived all his life in a garden, was almost
frightened to death. Presently the cook opened the hamper and began to
unpack the vegetables. Out sprang the terrified Timmy Willie.
Up jumped the cook on a chair, exclaiming "A mouse! a mouse! Call the
cat! Fetch me the poker, Sarah!" Timmy Willie did not wait for Sarah
with the poker; he rushed along the skirting board till he came to a
little hole, and in he popped.
He dropped half a foot, and crashed into the middle of a mouse dinner
party, breaking three glasses.--"Who in the world is this?" inquired
Johnny Town-mouse. But after the first exclamation of surprise he
instantly recovered his manners.
With the utmost politeness he introduced Timmy Willie to nine other
mice, all with long tails and white neckties. Timmy Willie's own tail
was insignificant. Johnny Town-mouse and his friends noticed it; but
they were too well bred to make personal remarks; only one of them asked
Timmy Willie if he had ever been in a trap?
The dinner was of eight courses; not much of anything, but truly
elegant. All the dishes were unknown to Timmy Willie, who would have
been a little afraid of tasting them; only he was very hungry, and very
anxious to behave with company manners. The continual noise upstairs
made him so nervous, that he dropped a plate. "Never mind, they don't
belong to us," said Johnny.
"Why don't those youngsters come back with the dessert?" It should be
explained that two young mice, who were waiting on the others, went
skirmishing upstairs to the kitchen between courses. Several times they
had come tumbling in, squeaking and laughing; Timmy Willie learnt with
horror that they were being chased by the cat. His appetite failed, he
felt faint. "Try some jelly?" said Johnny Town-mouse.
"No? Would you rather go to bed? I will show you a most comfortable
sofa pillow."
The sofa pillow had a hole in it. Johnny Town-mouse quite honestly
recommended it as the best bed, kept exclusively for visitors. But the
sofa smelt of cat. Timmy Willie preferred to spend a miserable night
under the fender.
It was just the same next day. An excellent breakfast was provided--for
mice accustomed to eat bacon; but Timmy Willie had been reared on roots
and salad. Johnny Town-mouse and his friends racketted about under the
floors, and came boldly out all over the house in the evening. One
particularly loud crash had been caused by Sarah tumbling downstairs
with the tea-tray; there were crumbs and sugar and smears of jam to be
collected, in spite of the cat.
Timmy Willie longed to be at home in his peaceful nest in a sunny bank.
The food disagreed with him; the noise prevented him from sleeping. In a
few days he grew so thin that Johnny Town-mouse noticed it, and
questioned him. He listened to Timmy Willie's story and inquired about
the garden. "It sounds rather a dull place? What do you do when it
"When it rains, I sit in my little sandy burrow and shell corn and
seeds from my Autumn store. I peep out at the throstles and blackbirds
on the lawn, and my friend Cock Robin. And when the sun comes out again,
you should see my garden and the flowers--roses and pinks and
pansies--no noise except the birds and bees, and the lambs in the
"There goes that cat again!" exclaimed Johnny Town-mouse. When they had
taken refuge in the coal-cellar he resumed the conversation; "I confess
I am a little disappointed; we have endeavoured to entertain you,
Timothy William."
"Oh yes, yes, you have been most kind; but I do feel so ill," said Timmy
"It may be that your teeth and digestion are unaccustomed to our food;
perhaps it might be wiser for you to return in the hamper."
"Oh? Oh!" cried Timmy Willie.
"Why of course for the matter of that we could have sent you back last
week," said Johnny rather huffily--"did you not know that the hamper
goes back empty on Saturdays?"
So Timmy Willie said good-bye to his new friends, and hid in the hamper
with a crumb of cake and a withered cabbage leaf; and after much
jolting, he was set down safely in his own garden.
Sometimes on Saturdays he went to look at the hamper lying by the gate,
but he knew better than to get in again. And nobody got out, though
Johnny Town-mouse had half promised a visit.
The winter passed; the sun came out again; Timmy Willie sat by his
burrow warming his little fur coat and sniffing the smell of violets and
spring grass. He had nearly forgotten his visit to town. When up the
sandy path all spick and span with a brown leather bag came Johnny
Timmy Willie received him with open arms. "You have come at the best of
all the year, we will have herb pudding and sit in the sun."
"H'm'm! it is a little damp," said Johnny Town-mouse, who was carrying
his tail under his arm, out of the mud.
"What is that fearful noise?" he started violently.
"That?" said Timmy Willie, "that is only a cow; I will beg a little
milk, they are quite harmless, unless they happen to lie down upon you.
How are all our friends?"
Johnny's account was rather middling. He explained why he was paying
his visit so early in the season; the family had gone to the sea-side
for Easter; the cook was doing spring cleaning, on board wages, with
particular instructions to clear out the mice. There were four kittens,
and the cat had killed the canary.
"They say we did it; but I know better," said Johnny Town-mouse.
"Whatever is that fearful racket?"
"That is only the lawn-mower; I will fetch some of the grass clippings
presently to make your bed. I am sure you had better settle in the
country, Johnny."
"H'm'm--we shall see by Tuesday week; the hamper is stopped while they
are at the sea-side."
"I am sure you will never want to live in town again," said Timmy
But he did. He went back in the very next hamper of vegetables; he said
it was too quiet!!
One place suits one person, another place suits another person. For my
part I prefer to live in the country, like Timmy Willie.
ONCE upon a time there was a very beautiful doll's house; it was red
brick with white windows, and it had real muslin curtains and a front
door and a chimney.
IT belonged to two Dolls called Lucinda and Jane; at least it belonged
to Lucinda, but she never ordered meals.
Jane was the Cook; but she never did any cooking, because the dinner had
been bought ready-made, in a box full of shavings.
THERE were two red lobsters, and a ham, a fish, a pudding, and some
pears and oranges.
They would not come off the plates, but they were extremely beautiful.
ONE morning Lucinda and Jane had gone out for a drive in the doll's
perambulator. There was no one in the nursery, and it was very quiet.
Presently there was a little scuffling, scratching noise in a corner
near the fireplace, where there was a hole under the skirting-board.
Tom Thumb put out his head for a moment, and then popped it in again.
Tom Thumb was a mouse.
A MINUTE afterwards Hunca Munca, his wife, put her head out, too; and
when she saw that there was no one in the nursery, she ventured out on
the oilcloth under the coal-box.
THE doll's house stood at the other side of the fireplace. Tom Thumb and
Hunca Munca went cautiously across the hearth-rug. They pushed the front
door--it was not fast.
TOM THUMB and Hunca Munca went up-stairs and peeped into the
dining-room. Then they squeaked with joy!
Such a lovely dinner was laid out upon the table! There were tin spoons,
and lead knives and forks, and two dolly-chairs--all SO convenient!
TOM THUMB set to work at once to carve the ham. It was a beautiful shiny
yellow, streaked with red.
The knife crumpled up and hurt him; he put his finger in his mouth.
"It is not boiled enough; it is hard. You have a try, Hunca Munca."
HUNCA MUNCA stood up in her chair, and chopped at the ham with another
lead knife.
"It's as hard as the hams at the cheesemonger's," said Hunca Munca.
THE ham broke off the plate with a jerk, and rolled under the table.
"Let it alone," said Tom Thumb; "give me some fish, Hunca Munca!"
HUNCA MUNCA tried every tin spoon in turn; the fish was glued to the
Then Tom Thumb lost his temper. He put the ham in the middle of the
floor, and hit it with the tongs and with the shovel--bang, bang, smash,
The ham flew all into pieces, for underneath the shiny paint it was made
of nothing but plaster!
THEN there was no end to the rage and disappointment of Tom Thumb and
Hunca Munca. They broke up the pudding, the lobsters, the pears, and the
As the fish would not come off the plate, they put it into the red-hot
crinkly paper fire in the kitchen; but it would not burn either.
TOM THUMB went up the kitchen chimney and looked out at the top--there
was no soot.
WHILE Tom Thumb was up the chimney, Hunca Munca had another
disappointment. She found some tiny canisters upon the dresser, labeled
"Rice," "Coffee" "Sago"; but when she turned them upside down there was
nothing inside except red and blue beads.
THEN those mice set to work to do all the mischief they
could--especially Tom Thumb! He took Jane's clothes out of the chest of
drawers in her bedroom, and he threw them out of the top-floor window.
But Hunca Munca had a frugal mind. After pulling half the feathers out
of Lucinda's bolster, she remembered that she herself was in want of a
WITH Tom Thumb's assistance she carried the bolster down-stairs and
across the hearth-rug. It was difficult to squeeze the bolster into the
mouse-hole; but they managed it somehow.
THEN Hunca Munca went back and fetched a chair, a bookcase, a bird-cage,
and several small odds and ends. The bookcase and the bird-cage refused
to go into the mouse-hole.
HUNCA MUNCA left them behind the coal-box, and went to fetch a cradle.
HUNCA MUNCA was just returning with another chair, when suddenly there
was a noise of talking outside upon the landing. The mice rushed back to
their hole, and the dolls came into the nursery.
WHAT a sight met the eyes of Jane and Lucinda!
Lucinda sat upon the upset kitchen stove and stared, and Jane leaned
against the kitchen dresser and smiled; but neither of them made any
THE bookcase and the bird-cage were rescued from under the coal-box; but
Hunca Munca has got the cradle and some of Lucinda's clothes.
SHE also has some useful pots and pans, and several other things.
THE little girl that the doll's house belonged to said: "I will get a
doll dressed like a policeman!"
BUT the nurse said: "I will set a mouse-trap!"
SO that is the story of the two Bad Mice. But they were not so very,
very naughty after all, because Tom Thumb paid for everything he broke.
He found a crooked sixpence under the hearth-rug; and upon Christmas Eve
he and Hunca Munca stuffed it into one of the stockings of Lucinda and
AND very early every morning--before anybody is awake--Hunca Munca
comes with her dust-pan and her broom to sweep the Dollies' house!
Once upon a time there was a wood-mouse, and her name was Mrs.
She lived in a bank under a hedge.
Such a funny house! There were yards and yards of sandy passages,
leading to storerooms and nut-cellars and seed-cellars, all amongst the
roots of the hedge.
There was a kitchen, a parlour, a pantry, and a larder.
Also, there was Mrs. Tittlemouse's bedroom, where she slept in a little
box bed!
Mrs. Tittlemouse was a most terribly tidy particular little mouse,
always sweeping and dusting the soft sandy floors.
Sometimes a beetle lost its way in the passages.
"Shuh! shuh! little dirty feet!" said Mrs. Tittlemouse, clattering her
And one day a little old woman ran up and down in a red spotty cloak.
"Your house is on fire, Mother Ladybird! Fly away home to your
Another day, a big fat spider came in to shelter from the rain.
"Beg pardon, is this not Miss Muffet's?"
"Go away, you bold bad spider! Leaving ends of cobweb all over my nice
clean house!"