Neatly he folded some mullen-leaves, for sailors need warm clothes and blankets, and with these over his arm, he began the long journey from the hill-top to the harbor. It was ten fairy-miles of rather rough walking. The Bumble-bee went with him and when they had come as far as his great-aunt’s house, which was just half-way between the hill and the beach, he flew up on her roof where you could get a splendid view of the country.
“Oh, can you see the Little Dipper?” cried Birdling from below.
“I see a boat on the sand,” reported Bumble, “a very queer boat—her hull is black, her trimmings golden-yellow, her decks bright-blue, and the mast and sails are green.”
“That’s the Little Dipper!” shouted Birdling, and began to run as fast as he could. He quite forgot that his great-aunt sat by the window, knitting wristlets and watching everything outside the house. She saw the tiny creature running along the beach, and as she was very old and could not see very clearly through her spectacles, she opened the window and leaned far out.
“It must be a mouse,” she decided, and hobbling across the room, she called her cat and opened the door for him.
“Mousie outside, Puss!” she said. “Go catch the Mousie, catch the Mousie!”