Beatrix potter the tailor pdf download

Loved each and every part of this book. I will definitely recommend this book to classics, childrens lovers. Your Rating:. Your Comment:. Norman Lippert by G. Norman Lippert. Hot The Tale of Mr. Tod by Beatrix Potter by Beatrix Potter. And out from under tea-cups and from under bowls and basins, stepped other and more little mice who hopped away down off the dresser and under the wainscot. The tailor sat down, close over the fire, lamenting—"One-and-twenty button-holes of cherry-coloured silk!

To be finished by noon of Saturday: and this is Tuesday evening. Was it right to let loose those mice, undoubtedly the property of Simpkin? Alack, I am undone, for I have no more twist! The little mice came out again, and listened to the tailor; they took notice of the pattern of that wonderful coat.

They whispered to one another about the taffeta lining, and about little mouse tippets. And then all at once they all ran away together down the passage behind the wainscot, squeaking and calling to one another, as they ran from house to house; and not one mouse was left in the tailor's kitchen when Simpkin came back with the pipkin of milk!

Simpkin opened the door and bounced in, with an angry "G-r-r-miaw! He put down the loaf and the sausages upon the dresser, and sniffed. But Simpkin set down the pipkin of milk upon the dresser, and looked suspiciously at the tea-cups. He wanted his supper of little fat mouse! But Simpkin hid a little parcel privately in the tea-pot, and spit and growled at the tailor; and if Simpkin had been able to talk, he would have asked: "Where is my MOUSE?

All that night long Simpkin hunted and searched through the kitchen, peeping into cupboards and under the wainscot, and into the tea-pot where he had hidden that twist; but still he found never a mouse!

Whenever the tailor muttered and talked in his sleep, Simpkin said "Miaw-ger-r-w-s-s-ch! For the poor old tailor was very ill with a fever, tossing and turning in his four-post bed; and still in his dreams he mumbled—"No more twist! All that day he was ill, and the next day, and the next; and what should become of the cherry-coloured coat? In the tailor's shop in Westgate Street the embroidered silk and satin lay cut out upon the table—one-and-twenty button-holes—and who should come to sew them, when the window was barred, and the door was fast locked?

But that does not hinder the little brown mice; they run in and out without any keys through all the old houses in Gloucester! Out of doors the market folks went trudging through the snow to buy their geese and turkeys, and to bake their Christmas pies; but there would be no Christmas dinner for Simpkin and the poor old Tailor of Gloucester. The tailor lay ill for three days and nights; and then it was Christmas Eve, and very late at night.

The moon climbed up over the roofs and chimneys, and looked down over the gateway into College Court. There were no lights in the windows, nor any sound in the houses; all the city of Gloucester was fast asleep under the snow.

But it is in the old story that all the beasts can talk, in the night between Christmas Eve and Christmas Day in the morning though there are very few folk that can hear them, or know what it is that they say. When the Cathedral clock struck twelve there was an answer—like an echo of the chimes—and Simpkin heard it, and came out of the tailor's door, and wandered about in the snow. From all the roofs and gables and old wooden houses in Gloucester came a thousand merry voices singing the old Christmas rhymes—all the old songs that ever I heard of, and some that I don't know, like Whittington's bells.

All the cats in Gloucester—except me," said Simpkin. Under the wooden eaves the starlings and sparrows sang of Christmas pies; the jack-daws woke up in the Cathedral tower; and although it was the middle of the night the throstles and robins sang; the air was quite full of little twittering tunes. Particularly he was vexed with some little shrill voices from behind a wooden lattice. I think that they were bats, because they always have very small voices—especially in a black frost, when they talk in their sleep, like the Tailor of Gloucester.

From the tailor's shop in Westgate came a glow of light; and when Simpkin crept up to peep in at the window it was full of candles. Beatrix Potter was an English author, illustrator, natural scientist, and conservationist best known for her children's books featuring animals. Potter's artistic and literary interests were deeply influenced by fairies, fairy tales and fantasy. It tells the story of a very mischievous rabbit and the trouble he encounters in a vegetable garden. Peter disobeys his mother by going into Mr.

McGregor's garden and almost gets caught. Potter's books continue to sell throughout the world in many languages with her stories being retold in song, film, ballet, and animation. The basis for the film, Peter Rabbit has been hailed as one of the bestselling stories of all time.