Under the tree was his store of provisions: A hazel nut with an end cut off so that he could take out little bits from time to time, lasting him a whole month; a beechnut; sunflower seeds; a piece of sugar; and a wonderful apple, into which he cut a narrow passage so that it would not dry up from the outside. When he had breakfasted he would sweep the carpet in his room, clean his clothes and shoes, exercise with his weapons so that he would not forget the arts of defence he had learned at his home, and then go into the garden to plant and weed. Sometimes, he hunted for the ugly worms that dug great ditches in the vegetable beds. When the Godmother rose she would come to say good morning to Tom, look at his work, praise and advise him. When she saw it was necessary to water the tree, she would tell Tom to take away his tools and would then pour water over the tree from a fine sprinkler. Tom loved to run about in this rain and was happy to think that he could so bravely bear the heavy shower. After she had gone away, he would write in his diary, describing everything he had been doing, as well as all those things he could remember from his former kingdom, so that nothing should be forgotten. For this purpose, he had a beautiful, smooth parchment, tanned from the skins of white tree bugs, sharp pens, made from the bills of gnats, and fine writing sand from the powder of butterflies' wings. He only lacked ink, but he found a way to get that. On the tree, he discovered the smoky wicks from the candles; mixing the soot with water he made himself some excellent ink; but in doing this, he became so black that when his Godmother saw him she feared that he had turned into a negro. He took his dinner alone, but always looked forward to the evening meal when he could sit down and talk with his Godmother. Thus the days passed happily. He worked about his castle and in the garden and was kept busy with his housekeeping. Every day he was becoming more manly and strong and, as he grew up, he thought more and more of his past, of his birth and what he would have accomplished had he become a king and ruled over his underground realm. One evening, when they were sitting together and Little Tom was speaking of all the things in the world he would like to do, his Godmother said, »Dear Little Tom, before you can do great things in the world, it is necessary that you should learn how to read and write as large people do, so that you can know what they are doing«. But Tom answered, »I know how to read and write very well, Godmother. I will show you what I have written.« And when, at his request, she placed him on the press, he ran into the castle and brought out a whole armful of parchments; but it seemed to her that they were only a lot of tiny petals from cherry blossoms. [Illustration] When he had thrown the parchments into her lap she put on her spectacles and took one of the little sheets in her palm; but she could make nothing out of it at all.