Once upon a time there was a little girl called Lucie, who lived at a farm called Little-town.

She was a real person, only she lived in the story-book.

Lucie had lost three pocket-handkinchiefs. She had looked in the kitchen, and the dairy, and the barn; and she had gone over and over the field-path, and all along the road.

‘Oh, dear me!’ said Lucie. ‘I do wish I could find my pocket-handkin’s! What’s that little white thing that’s just flown by?’

I’m sure I beg your pardon; I’ve interrupted your work. You were very busy with your ironing; I’m sure it’s most inconvenient.

But I’m not so very old as all that; my name is Ann Maria; but Master always calls me Mrs.——’ Now what do you think! It began with a letter T.

She’ll always be my favourite, because she was a dear funny old thing.

It’s all right, deary; sit ye down. I didn’t want to put you out. I only iron on Tuesdays.

And she’s most particular about the washing. Yes, deary, yes. She’s an excellent laundress is Mrs. Tiggle-Winkle.

There certainly were a great many little things lying about that wanted washing!

The Tale of Mrs. Tiggy-Winkle