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Mr. Badger
TheBadger’swinterstores,whichindeedwerevisibleeverywhere,tookuphalftheroom—pilesofapples,turnips,andpotatoes,basketsfullofnuts,andjarsofhoney;butthetwolittlewhitebedsontheremainderofthefloorlookedsoftandinviting,andthelinenonthem,thoughcoarse,wascleanandsmeltbeautifullyoflavender;andtheMoleandtheWaterRat,shakingofftheirgarmentsinsomethirtyseconds,tumbledinbetweenthesheetsingreatjoyandcontentment.
InaccordancewiththekindlyBadger’sinjunctions,thetwotiredanimalscamedowntobreakfastverylatenextmorning,andfoundabrightfireburninginthekitchen,andtwoyounghedgehogssittingonabenchatthetable,eatingoatmealporridgeoutofwoodenbowls.Thehedgehogsdroppedtheirspoons,rosetotheirfeet,andduckedtheirheadsrespectfullyasthetwoentered.
"There,sitdown,sitdown,"saidtheRatpleasantly,"andgoonwithyourporridge.Wherehaveyouyoungsterscomefrom?Lostyourwayinthesnow,Isuppose?"
"Yes,please,sir,"saidtheelderofthetwohedgehogsrespectfully."MeandlittleBillyhere,wewastryingtofindourwaytoschool—motherwouldhaveusgo,wastheweathereverso—andofcoursewelostourselves,sir,andBillyhegotfrightenedandtookandcried,beingyoungandfaint-hearted.AndatlastwehappenedupagainstMr.Badger’sbackdoor,andmadesoboldastoknock,sir,forMr.