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Updated: July 18, 2025
"I think I'd better stay at home," said the little old woman, "if I can't come down the chimney without getting smut all over my frock. I wonder where Mr. Thimblefinger is?" "Oh, I'm here," exclaimed another tinkling voice from the fireplace, "but I'm not coming in. They are not asleep, and, even if they were, I see the big Black Cat in that chair there."
The greedy thing was glad to do this. It went to the tree and called for twenty pumpkins, and down they fell on its head." "What then?" asked Buster John, as Mr. Thimblefinger paused. "Was it hurt?" "Smashed!" exclaimed Mr. Thimblefinger. "Knocked flatter than a pancake! Broke into jiblets!" "It was a great waste of pumpkins," remarked Mrs. Meadows. Just then Mrs.
And presently he made his appearance, dragging the knife after him. He tugged at it until he got it out, and then he sat down on a chip, wiped the perspiration from his eyes, and fanned himself with a thin flake of pine bark no bigger than a bee's wing. "Pick me up and let's go on top of the wood-pile," said Mr. Thimblefinger after a while. "It's suffocating down here.
Take off your things and make yourself at home. How did you get here? I reckon that little trick there has been telling tales out of school." She pointed at Mr. Thimblefinger and laughed. "He brought us," said Sweetest Susan. "I'm sorry we came." "Now, don't say that," remarked Mrs. Meadows kindly. "What are you afraid of?" "Of him," replied Sweetest Susan, nodding her head toward Mr. Rabbit.
My mother knew the girl well, and I've heard her tell the story many a time. But if you want to go home " "Oh, please tell the story," cried Sweetest Susan. "Well," said Mr. Thimblefinger; "once there was an old woman who lived in the woods. She lived all alone, and people said she was a witch.
She floundered around with her eyes still shut, and gasped and caught her breath just like a drowning person, until she heard the others laughing at her, and then she opened her eyes with astonishment. Suddenly there was a loud, splashing sound heard above and around them and under their feet. "Watch out!" cried Mr. Thimblefinger. "Run this way! The water is getting wet again!"
Thimblefinger, tapping his forehead significantly and nodding his head. "You kin nod," said Drusilla defiantly, "but my head got mo' in it dan you kin comb out." "I believe you!" exclaimed Mr. Thimblefinger, "I believe you!" He spoke so earnestly that Sweetest Susan and Buster John laughed, and Drusilla laughed with them. "You dropped your knife," said Mr. Thimblefinger. "I'm sorry of it.
"I think that is a nice story," said Sweetest Susan. "I'm glad you do," remarked Mr. Thimblefinger. "My mother knew all the facts in the case, and I've heard her tell it many a time. I may have left out some of the happenings, but these and many others you can supply for yourself." While Mr.
He sat in a rocking-chair smoking a pipe. "Le' 's go back," whispered Drusilla. "Dat ar creetur bigger dan a hoss. Ef he git a glimp' us we er gone gone!" Sweetest Susan shivered and looked at Buster John, and Buster John looked at Mr. Thimblefinger. But Mr. Thimblefinger ran forward, crying out: "Howdy, folks, howdy! I've brought some friends home to dinner." He beckoned to the children.
Buster John waited for an explanation, but none was forthcoming. "We couldn't go through the spring, you know," he said presently. "How do you know?" asked Mr. Thimblefinger slyly. "Did you ever try it?" He asked each of the children this, and the reply was that none of them had ever tried it. "I put my foot in it once," said Buster John, "and the water was just like other spring water.
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