. Little Mr. Thimblefinger and his queer country : what the children saw and heard there . t. I cant bring it up 22 LITTLE MR. THIMBLEFINGER. to you, but I 11 see if I cant crawl under and getit out. With that he leaped nimbly from log to log anddisappeared under the wood-pile. The childrenwent down to see what he would do. They wereso astonished at his droll appearance that theyforgot their curiosity, Is that a fairy, brother ? asked SweetestSusan in a low voice. No ! exclaimed Buster John with a loftyair, but not loudly. Dont you see hes not abit like the fairies we read about in books ? Why
. Little Mr. Thimblefinger and his queer country : what the children saw and heard there . t. I cant bring it up 22 LITTLE MR. THIMBLEFINGER. to you, but I 11 see if I cant crawl under and getit out. With that he leaped nimbly from log to log anddisappeared under the wood-pile. The childrenwent down to see what he would do. They wereso astonished at his droll appearance that theyforgot their curiosity, Is that a fairy, brother ? asked SweetestSusan in a low voice. No ! exclaimed Buster John with a loftyair, but not loudly. Dont you see hes not abit like the fairies we read about in books ? Why,he was afraid of a wood-sawyer. Thats so, Sweetest Susan rejoined. Hes a witch, dat what he is, said Drusilla. Shucks ! whispered Buster John. He heardthe voice of Mr. Thimblefinger under the wood-pile, Ive found it, I ve found ifc! he cried. Andpresently he made his appearance, dragging theknife after him. He tugged at it until he got itout, and then he sat down on a chip, wiped theperspiration from his eyes, and fanned himselfwith a thin flake of pine bark no bigger than abees LITTLE. MR. THIM^LEFINGER MR. THIMBLEFINGERS QUEER COUNTRY. 23 Pick me up and lets go on top of the wood-pile, said Mr. Thimblefinger after a while. Itssuffocating down here. Ouch! dont tickle me,if you do I shall have a fit. Buster John hadlifted him by placing a thumb and forefingerunder his arms. And dont squeeze me,neither, the little man went on. I was crampedunder that bark until I in as sore as a boil allover. Goodness ! I wish I was at home ! Where do you live ? asked Sweetest Susanwhen they were once more seated on the wood-pile. Not far from here, not very far, repliedMr. Thimblefinger, shaking his head sagely, butit is a different country — oh, entirely different. Sweetest Susan edged away from the little manat this, and Brasilia stretched her eyes. What is it like ? asked Buster John fcoldlv. V Mr. Thimblefinger reflected a while, and thenshook his head. I can show it to you/ hesai
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1920, bookidlittlemrthim, bookyear1922
