The Mitten

An old grandpa was walking through the winter woods. The snow crunched under his boots, the frost nipped at his cheeks, and a little ginger dog ran on ahead. Grandpa was in such a hurry to get home that he never noticed a mitten slip out of his pocket. It was a warm, woolly mitten with a red trim. It dropped onto the snow beneath a fir tree, and there it lay.

Along came a little mouse. She spotted the mitten and sniffed all around it.

"Oh, what a lovely little house! So warm and soft. I’ll live here."

In she crept and curled up in a ball.

Hop, hop, hop... here came a frog.

"Who, who lives in the mitten?"

"I’m Scritch-Scratch Mouse. And who are you?"

"I’m Croak-a-Lot Frog. Let me in, too!"

"Climb in. It’s more fun with two!"

Along came a hare, his ears trembling with cold.

"Who, who lives in the mitten?"

"Scritch-Scratch Mouse and Croak-a-Lot Frog. And who are you?"

"I’m Hoppity Hare. Please, may I come in and warm up?"

"Climb in!"

Then up came a fox, her tail sweeping the snow behind her.

"Who, who lives in the mitten?"

"Scritch-Scratch Mouse, Croak-a-Lot Frog, and Hoppity Hare. And who are you?"

"I’m Little Sister Fox. Let me in, too."

The animals shuffled over, and the fox squeezed in as well.

Next came Brother Wolf, and after him trundled Tusky Boar. Each one asked, "Who, who lives in the mitten?" and each one was let in, because the frost was fierce outside and everyone is warmer together. By now the mitten was bulging at its seams, and inside it was snug and noisy. Somebody sneezed, somebody giggled, and somebody was hunting for one more tiny spot to squeeze into.

Then, crack, crack went the branches, and here came a bear!

"Who, who lives in the mitten?"

The animals named themselves one by one, and the bear said:

"And I’m Bumble-Paws Bear. Let me in, too!"

"But where would you fit? It’s crowded enough already!"

"I’ll manage somehow," grumbled the bear.

Everyone shifted over just a little, and the bear squeezed in after all. There they sat, so tightly packed they could hardly breathe or wiggle, but they were still warm and happy.

Meanwhile, Grandpa reached his house, put his hand in his pocket, and, oh no! No mitten! So he turned back and followed his own footprints, with the little dog running ahead. On and on the dog went, sniffing, until he saw something under the fir tree. It was the mitten, and it was moving!

"Woof! Woof! Woof!" barked the dog.

The animals were so frightened that they leaped out of the mitten and scattered every which way. The mouse dashed into her burrow, the frog hid under a stump, the hare bounded into the bushes, the fox, the wolf and the boar vanished into the thicket, and the bear lumbered back to his den.

Grandpa came up, picked up the mitten, and shook the snow off it. It was warm, as if someone had just been wearing it.

"Well, I never," Grandpa chuckled. "Somebody must have been visiting."

He pulled the mitten on, whistled for his dog, and off they went home to supper.