Mrs. Tiggy-winkle ironed it, and goffered it, and shook out the frills.

“Oh that is lovely!” said Lucie.

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“And what are those long yellow things with fingers like gloves?”

“Oh, that’s a pair of stockings belonging to Sally Henny-penny—­look how she’s worn the heels out with scratching in the yard!  She’ll very soon go barefoot!” said Mrs. Tiggy-winkle.

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“Why, there’s another handkersniff—­but it isn’t mine; it’s red?”

“Oh no, if you please’m; that one belongs to old Mrs. Rabbit; and it did so smell of onions!  I’ve had to wash it separately, I can’t get out the smell.”

“There’s another one of mine,” said Lucie.

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“What are those funny little white things?”

“That’s a pair of mittens belonging to Tabby Kitten; I only have to iron them; she washes them herself.”

“There’s my last pocket-handkin!” said Lucie.

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“And what are you dipping into the basin of starch?”

“They’re little dicky shirt-fronts belonging to Tom Titmouse—­most terrible particular!” said Mrs. Tiggy-winkle.  “Now I’ve finished my ironing; I’m going to air some clothes.”

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“What are these dear soft fluffy things?” said Lucie.

“Oh those are woolly coats belonging to the little lambs at Skelghyl.”

“Will their jackets take off?” asked Lucie.

“Oh yes, if you please’m; look at the sheep-mark on the shoulder.  And here’s one marked for Gatesgarth, and three that come from Little-town.  They’re always marked at washing!” said Mrs. Tiggy-winkle.

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And she hung up all sorts and sizes of clothes—­small brown coats of mice; and one velvety black moleskin waist-coat; and a red tailcoat with no tail belonging to Squirrel Nutkin; and a very much shrunk blue jacket belonging to Peter Rabbit; and a petticoat, not marked, that had gone lost in the washing—­and at last the basket was empty!

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“Then Mrs. Tiggy-winkle made tea—­a cup for herself and a cup for Lucie.  They sat before the fire on a bench and looked sideways at one another.  Mrs. Tiggy-winkle’s hand, holding the tea-cup, was very very brown, and very very wrinkly with the soap-suds; and all through her gown and her cap, there were hair-pins sticking wrong end out; so that Lucie didn’t like to sit too near her.

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When they had finished tea, they tied up the clothes in bundles; and Lucie’s pocket-handkerchiefs were folded up inside her clean pinny, and fastened with a silver safety-pin.

And then they made up the fire with turf, and came out and locked the door, and hid the key under the door-sill.

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Then away down the hill trotted Lucie and Mrs. Tiggy-winkle with the bundles of clothes!