'I love my little baby eel,
He is so squidglety to feel;
He'll be an eel when he is big--
But now he's just--a--tiny SNIG!'


Perhaps you didn't know that a snig was a baby eel? It is, though,
and the Lamb knew it.

'Hedgehog now-!' he said; and Anthea went on:


'My baby hedgehog, how I like ye,
Though your back's so prickly-spiky;
Your front is very soft, I've found,
So I must love you front ways round!'


And then she loved him front ways round, while he squealed with
pleasure.

It is a very baby game, and, of course, the rhymes are only meant
for very, very small people--not for people who are old enough to
read books, so I won't tell you any more of them.

By the time the Lamb had been a baby lion and a baby weazel, and a
baby rabbit and a baby rat, mother was ready; and she and the Lamb,
having been kissed by everybody and hugged as thoroughly as it is