It was easier than she expected. “If he can help me so far,” Tubby thought, “he might be able to help me right up to the top.” But first she wanted to see the squirrels’ home.
It was in a hollow limb of the tree, that reached a long way back like a passage. It was stuffy in there and very warm, and it smelled of fur and hay and nutshells; either the squirrels ate all their meals in the bedroom or else they slept in the pantry, Tubby could not quite make up her mind which. But the sight of the baby squirrels, sitting up in bed with their little paws clasped and their round eyes gazing up at her, pleased her so much that she sat down then and there among the hay and nutshells and took them all three on her lap.
“We want a story!” cried the baby squirrels. “Tell us a story!”
Tubby began immediately:
“Once there was a little mouse and he lived in Tubbyland and he wore blue trousers, and one day he said to his mother, ‘Mother, I would like a party!’ ‘Very well,’ said his mother, ‘you have been a good child,’ and she took him down a long passage and opened the door, and there was a Christmas tree with candles on it and shiny lights—”
“I want to go down the passage!” cried the three baby squirrels all at once, and they began to jump up and down.
“Wait a minute,” said Tubby. “I haven’t told you what they had to eat at the party, yet.”
