The Lost Mitten
Nell had two red mittens this morning. Now she had one.
She wanted to go out in the snow. She wanted it very much.
"Both mittens," said Mum, "or no snow."
So Nell looked under the bed. Under the bed she found a marble, a sock, and one very old raisin.
She did not find a mitten.
She looked inside her boot. Inside her boot she found sand from the summer.
She did not find a mitten.
She looked behind the door. Behind the door she found a small grey toy mouse with one ear.
She did not find a mitten.
"Where did it go?" said Nell.
Nell sat down on the floor. Outside, the snow kept falling. It was the good kind. The thick kind.
Then Nell heard a sound.
It was a very small sound. It went: purr.
It came from the basket by the fire.
Nell went to the basket, quiet as a mouse. Quieter than a mouse. Quieter than the toy mouse with one ear.
The cat was in the basket, fast asleep, curled up like a bun.
Something red was sticking out from under the cat.
Nell took hold of it. She pulled. The cat did not move.
She pulled again. The cat opened one eye.
She pulled one more time.
Out came the red mitten. Warm as toast.
"There you are," said Nell.
The cat looked at Nell. Nell looked at the cat. The basket was suddenly very empty, and not warm at all.
Nell thought about it for a long moment.
Then she put the red mitten back.
"You may keep it," said Nell. "I will wear my blue ones."
She pulled on her blue mittens. She pulled on her boots. She opened the door, and the cold came in, and out she went into all that snow.
Behind her, in the basket by the fire, one red mitten went slowly up and down, up and down, with a sleeping cat on top of it.
