around to the other side of the tree when Grassina began to climb the ladder. Once inside the tiny house, the princess opened the sack and let the snake loose to explore. She’d brought a waterskin with her from the castle and used it now to fill a bowl for the snake. “It’s just for a few days,” she said, setting the bowl on the floor. “Your tail should be healed soon.”
“It’s nice and warm in here,” said Pippa, raising her head to look around the room. She stopped when she saw the fireplace where the embers were still warm in the grate.
“That fireplace lights itself whenever the tree house gets cold,” said Grassina.
“A ssnake could get ussed to this,” Pippa said, slithering toward the hearth.
The copper finches twittered overhead while one of the few remaining glass birds rustled its transparent feathers, making them click softly. Pippa tested the air with her tongue, looking disappointed when the birds didn’t smell real.
“You’ll be safe here,” said Grassina. “I have to go to the swamp to find a toad for my mother.”
“Why? Doess she eat them?” the snake asked, her eyes glistening.
Grassina laughed and shook her head. “I have no idea what she plans to do with them, but at this point, nothing she does would surprise me.”
“Doess anyone live here? Asside from the birdss, I mean.”
“It used to be a playhouse for my sister and me,” said Grassina. “No one comes here much anymore.”
“Good,” said Pippa. “Then my bad luck won’t hurt anyone elsse.”
Although Grassina had considered introducing Pippa to Marniekins, she decided that it might not be such a good idea. Pippa would probably fret about her bad luck more if she thought someone else might be hurt, and there was no way to tell how the doll would react to a snake.
Confident that her mother’s old spell would keep Pippa safe inside the tree house, Grassina climbed down the ladder while clutching her toad-collecting sack. Starting at the base of the tree, she began lifting leaves and moving stems until she found a fat toad under a skunk-cabbage leaf near a mostly collapsed stone wall.
“Pardon me,” Grassina said, picking up the toad to count the lumps on its back.
“What are you doing?” croaked the toad. “Put me down! This is so undignified! Why, I never . . .”
“I’m sorry,” said Grassina. “I need to count your warts. These bumps are warts, aren’t they? Mother told me to find a toad with seven warts, but I’m not sure these are what she meant.”
The toad squirmed in her grasp and leaked something clear onto her fingers. “Ick!” she said. “What is that?”
“It’s your own fault. You startled me. I can’t help it if I have an incontinence problem when I’m startled. Now, if you wouldn’t mind putting me down, we’ll forget this whole thing ever happened and—”
“I can’t put you down. Hold still so I can count your warts!”
“They’re not warts! They’re . . . uh . . . signs of age and wisdom. Yes, that’s what they are. I’m not as young as I once was.”
“Are you sure?” said Grassina. “They look like they could be called warts.”
“Of course, I’m sure,” said the toad. “It’s my back, isn’t it?”
Grassina sighed and crouched down, setting the toad back where she had found it. “There you go,” said the toad. “That’s right . . . put me on the nice soft moss and I’ll . . . hop off as fast as I can!” The toad hopped wildly away from the skunk cabbage and into a crevice in the jumbled stones of the wall. “You won’t catch me again. No, sirree! I’m safe in here, warts and all!”
“You little liar!” said Grassina. “I never should have believed you.”
Resolving not to listen to any other toads no matter what they said, Grassina straightened her back and strode into the swamp, the empty sack swinging from her hand. It took some time before she found another toad, but it didn’t have the right number of warts. Knowing that
“It’s nice and warm in here,” said Pippa, raising her head to look around the room. She stopped when she saw the fireplace where the embers were still warm in the grate.
“That fireplace lights itself whenever the tree house gets cold,” said Grassina.
“A ssnake could get ussed to this,” Pippa said, slithering toward the hearth.
The copper finches twittered overhead while one of the few remaining glass birds rustled its transparent feathers, making them click softly. Pippa tested the air with her tongue, looking disappointed when the birds didn’t smell real.
“You’ll be safe here,” said Grassina. “I have to go to the swamp to find a toad for my mother.”
“Why? Doess she eat them?” the snake asked, her eyes glistening.
Grassina laughed and shook her head. “I have no idea what she plans to do with them, but at this point, nothing she does would surprise me.”
“Doess anyone live here? Asside from the birdss, I mean.”
“It used to be a playhouse for my sister and me,” said Grassina. “No one comes here much anymore.”
“Good,” said Pippa. “Then my bad luck won’t hurt anyone elsse.”
Although Grassina had considered introducing Pippa to Marniekins, she decided that it might not be such a good idea. Pippa would probably fret about her bad luck more if she thought someone else might be hurt, and there was no way to tell how the doll would react to a snake.
Confident that her mother’s old spell would keep Pippa safe inside the tree house, Grassina climbed down the ladder while clutching her toad-collecting sack. Starting at the base of the tree, she began lifting leaves and moving stems until she found a fat toad under a skunk-cabbage leaf near a mostly collapsed stone wall.
“Pardon me,” Grassina said, picking up the toad to count the lumps on its back.
“What are you doing?” croaked the toad. “Put me down! This is so undignified! Why, I never . . .”
“I’m sorry,” said Grassina. “I need to count your warts. These bumps are warts, aren’t they? Mother told me to find a toad with seven warts, but I’m not sure these are what she meant.”
The toad squirmed in her grasp and leaked something clear onto her fingers. “Ick!” she said. “What is that?”
“It’s your own fault. You startled me. I can’t help it if I have an incontinence problem when I’m startled. Now, if you wouldn’t mind putting me down, we’ll forget this whole thing ever happened and—”
“I can’t put you down. Hold still so I can count your warts!”
“They’re not warts! They’re . . . uh . . . signs of age and wisdom. Yes, that’s what they are. I’m not as young as I once was.”
“Are you sure?” said Grassina. “They look like they could be called warts.”
“Of course, I’m sure,” said the toad. “It’s my back, isn’t it?”
Grassina sighed and crouched down, setting the toad back where she had found it. “There you go,” said the toad. “That’s right . . . put me on the nice soft moss and I’ll . . . hop off as fast as I can!” The toad hopped wildly away from the skunk cabbage and into a crevice in the jumbled stones of the wall. “You won’t catch me again. No, sirree! I’m safe in here, warts and all!”
“You little liar!” said Grassina. “I never should have believed you.”
Resolving not to listen to any other toads no matter what they said, Grassina straightened her back and strode into the swamp, the empty sack swinging from her hand. It took some time before she found another toad, but it didn’t have the right number of warts. Knowing that
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