The Tale of Hill Top Farm

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coming to tea this afternoon, and I thought you might like to come along and meet her.”
    “Miss Potter? Miss Potter? I don’t believe I—” The vicar’s mind cleared, and he raised his walking stick in salute. “Oh, Miss Potter ! Miss Beatrix Potter! Why, bless my soul, Miss Woodcock, of course I should like to meet her. I was delighted when I heard that she had purchased Hill Top. I readily confess to being an ardent devotee. In fact, when I was visiting in Ulverston yesterday, I purchased a copy of The Pie and the Patty-pan for my brother’s daughter—the two-shilling edition, in blue cloth binding with a little medallion printed on the cover, quite handsome and in the shops just this week, I believe. I shall bring it, and if Miss Potter is willing, I should like her to write her name in it, and an inscription to my niece.” He paused. “I don’t suppose you’ve seen the book yet, have you? It is set in Sawrey, and there are a great many pictures of familiar things.”
    “There are?” Miss Woodcock asked. “How nice.”
    “Oh, indeed, yes,” the vicar said, happily punctuating his words with his stick. “I recognized Bertha Stubbs’s sitting room, and the path that slopes down to the Lakefield cottages, and Mrs. Kellythorn’s wooden pattens, sitting beside the cottage entrance.”
    Miss Woodcock blinked. “Mrs. Kellythorn’s pattens?”
    “The wooden shoes are a sweet, homely little detail,” the vicar went on enthusiastically, “although perhaps from Mrs. Kellythorn’s point of view, a trifle too homely.” Mrs. Kellythorn was interested in fashion, and might not be entirely happy that her pattens—old-fashioned clogs used by farm wives to go about the barnyard when there was mud—had been painted for posterity. “And there is the fan light over the post office door,” the vicar continued, “except that Miss Potter drew Mrs. Dowling’s splendid tiger lilies in the front of the post office, which is bound to disappoint Mrs. Dowling. The two main characters are a cat named Ribby Pipstone, and Duchess.”
    “Duchess? Miranda Rollins’s brown Pomeranian?”
    “Yes, that’s the one.” Mrs. Rollins had two Pomeranians, one black and one brown. The vicar sighed. “It’s rather unfortunate that Miss Potter made a mix-up of the names, for she has drawn Darkie, but called her Duchess. There are no people in the book,” he added hurriedly, feeling that this might be a good thing. If Miss Potter had drawn Darkie for Duchess and misplaced Mrs. Dowling’s favorite tiger lilies, the residents of Sawrey would probably consider it a very good thing that she had not drawn any of them .
    “I think,” Miss Woodcock said, “that I should like to take a look at the book. Would you mind if I borrowed it? I could take it now, and give it back when you come to tea tomorrow.”
    “Oh, by all means, indeed yes,” said the vicar warmly. “I am delighted to share the treasure. Come along, and I’ll get it for you.” And when he sent Miss Woodcock on her way, she had in her bag a small two-shilling book with a picture of a cat on the blue cover.

5
    Miss Potter Surveys Her Domain
    Beatrix got up with the sun that morning to take Mrs. Tiggy for a ramble among the dewy, sweet-smelling roses. The little hedgehog had served as a model for the drawings in The Tale of Mrs. Tiggy-Winkle. The book, Beatrix’s sixth, had been published just last month, and a second printing was already planned, so it seemed clear that it would enjoy the same success as the others—a success that still continued to amaze Beatrix. She somehow could not quite believe that so many people wanted to read stories about rabbits, mice, and squirrels, and every time she received a royalty check she was astonished to see how all those shilling purchases had added up. She was earning quite a respectable sum.
    The money was wonderful, in itself, of course, and she was using the income from the first books to purchase Hill Top Farm. But

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