She was running running running up the hill--and where was her white frilled cap? and her shawl? and her gown--and her petticoat? [Illustration] And _how_ small she had grown--and _how_ brown--and covered with PRICKLES! Why! Mrs. Tiggy-winkle was nothing but a HEDGEHOG. * * * * * (Now some people say that little Lucie had been asleep upon the stile--but then how could she have found three clean pocket-handkins and a pinny, pinned with a silver safety-pin? And besides--_I_ have seen that door into the back of the hill called Cat Bells--and besides _I_ am very well acquainted with dear Mrs. Tiggy-winkle!) End of Project Gutenberg's The Tale of Mrs. Tiggy-Winkle, by Beatrix Potter