When Mrs. Tittlemouse ventured to come out--everybody had gone away.

But the untidiness was something dreadful--"Never did I see such a
mess--smears of honey; and moss, and thistledown--and marks of big and
little dirty feet--all over my nice clean house!"

She gathered up the moss and the remains of the beeswax.

Then she went out and fetched some twigs, to partly close up the front
door.

"I will make it too small for Mr. Jackson!"

[Illustration: Closing up the front door]

[Illustration: Too tired]

She fetched soft soap, and flannel, and a new scrubbing brush from the
storeroom. But she was too tired to do any more. First she fell asleep
in her chair, and then she went to bed.

"Will it ever be tidy again?" said poor Mrs. Tittlemouse.

Next morning she got up very early and began a spring cleaning which
lasted a fortnight.

She swept, and scrubbed, and dusted; and she rubbed up the furniture
with beeswax, and polished her little tin spoons.

[Illustration: Polishing]