Moominland Midwinter Read Online Free PDF

of the cupboard.
    There he found the box with all those superfluous things that can sometimes be absolutely necessary: black bands for mourning, golden bands for great celebrations, and the key to the house, and the champagne whisk, and the tube of porcelain glue, and spare brass knobs for the bedposts among other things.
    When Moomintroll came out again he had a black bow on his tail. He also made fast a little black bow on Too-ticky's cap.
    But Little My refused blankly to be decorated. 'If I feel sorry I needn't show it with a bow,' she said.
    'If you feel sorry, that is,' said Moomintroll. 'But you don't.'
    'No,' said Little My. 'I can't. I'm always either glad or angry. Would it help the squirrel if I were sorry? No. But if I'm angry at the Lady of the Cold, I might bite her leg some time. And then perhaps she'll take care not to scratch other little squirrels behind their ears just because they're sweet and fluffy.'
    'There's something in that,' said Too-ticky. 'But Moomintroll's also right, however that's possible. And what do we do now?'
    'Now I'm going to dig a hole in the ground,' said Moomintroll. 'This is a nice spot, there are a lot of marguerites here in summer.'
    'But dearest,' said Too-ticky sadly. 'The ground's frozen stone hard. You couldn't bury even a grasshopper in it.'
    Moomintroll looked helplessly at her without replying. No one said a word. And at that moment the snow-horse lowered its head and cautiously sniffed at the squirrel. It looked questioningly at Moomintroll with its mirror eyes, and its broom-tail moved slightly.
    At the same time the invisible shrew struck up a sad tune on his flute. Moomintroll nodded gratefully.
    Then the snow-horse lifted the squirrel on his back, tail and bathing-cap and all, and everybody started to walk back to the shore.
    And Too-ticky sang this about the squirrel:
    There was a little squirrel,
    A very small squirrel.
    He wasn't very clever
    But his fur was nice and warm.
    Now he is cold, quite cold.
    And all his legs are numb.
    But still he is the squirrel
    With the marvellous tail.
    When the horse felt hard ice under his hooves, he tossed his head and his eyes lighted up; and suddenly he cut a caper and galloped off.
    The invisible shrew changed to a fast and lively tune. Farther and farther away galloped the snow-horse with the squirrel on his back. Finally he was just a speck on the horizon.
    'I wonder if this went off right?' said Moomintroll worriedly.
    'It couldn't have been better,' said Too-ticky. 'Well, it could,' said Little My. 'If only I had got the nice tail for a muff.'

CHAPTER 4
The lonely and the rum
    A FEW days after the squirrel's funeral Moomintroll noticed that somebody had stolen peat from the woodshed.
    There were broad tracks in the snow outside, just as if heavy sacks had been lugged off.
    'If can't be My,' thought Moomintroll. 'She's much too small. And Too-ticky only takes what she needs. It must be the Groke.'
    He followed the trail with bristling neck fluff. There was no one else to keep watch over the family's fuel, and this was a matter of honour.
    The trail ended on the top of the hill behind the cave.
    There lay the peat sacks. They were piled up to make part of a bonfire, and on top of them rested the family's garden sofa that had lost one of its legs in August.
    'That sofa's going to look fine,' said Too-ticky, stepping out from behind the bonfire. 'It's old and dry as dust.'
    'Certainly,' said Moomintroll. 'It's been a long time in the family. We could have repaired it.'
    'Or made anew one,' said Too-ticky. 'Would you like to hear the song about Too-ticky who made a great winter bonfire?'
    'By all means,' replied Moomintroll, good-naturedly.
    And Too-ticky started at once to stamp around slowly in the snow, while she sang as follows:
    Here come the dumb,
    The lonely and the rum.
    The wild and the quiet.
    Thud goes the drum.
    Crackle goes the bonfire
    Glowing in the white snow,
    Swish go the tails,
    Swinging through the light