with its four paws, using its tail as well--it had a nice long tail in
those days; the mouse crept out of his pocket and made channels with
its little pointed toes; and the squirrel brushed and swept the water
in with its bushy, mop-like tail. The rising sea poured down the ever-
deepening hole. They worked with a will together; there was no
complaining, though the rabbit wore its tail down till it was nothing
but a stump, and the mouse stood ankle-deep in water, and the
squirrel's fluffy tail looked like a stable broom. They worked like
heroes without stopping even to talk, and as the water went pouring
down the hole, the level of the sea, of course, sank lower and lower
and lower, the shores of the tiny island stretched farther and farther
and farther, till there were reaches of golden sand like Margate at
low tide, and as the level sank still lower there rose into view great
white cliffs of chalk where before there had been only water--until,
at last, the squirrel, scampering down from the tree where it had gone
to see what had been accomplished, reported in a voice that chattered
with stammering delight, 'We're saved! The sea's gone down! The land's
come up!'"

The steps were audible in the passage. A gentle knock was heard. But
no one answered, for it seemed that no one was aware of it. The figure
paused a moment to recover breath.

"And then, and then? What happened next? Did they thank the rabbit?"

"They all thanked each other then. The man thanked the rabbit, and the
rabbit thanked the squirrel, and the mouse woke up, and--"

No one noticed the slip, which proved that their attention was already
painfully divided. For another knock, much louder than before, had