“You‘ve got to remember that， Mrs Beaver，” said Susan. “As soon as she has looked in here and finds we’re gone she‘ll be off at top speed.”
“That she will，” said Mrs Beaver. “But we can’t get there before her whatever we do， for she‘ll be on a sledge and we’ll be walking.”
“Then.have we no hope？” said Susan.
“Now don‘t you get fussing， there’s a dear，” said MrsBeaver， “but just get half a dozen clean handkerchiefs out of the drawer. ‘Course we’ve got a hope. We can‘t get there before her but we can keep under cover and go by ways she won’t expect and perhaps we‘ll get through.”
“That’s true enough， Mrs Beaver，” said her husband. “But it‘s time we were out of this.”
“And don’t you start fussing either， Mr Beaver，” said his wife. “There. That‘s better. There’s five loads and the smallest for the smallest of us： that‘s you， my dear，” she added， looking at Lucy.
“Oh， do please come on，” said Lucy.
“Well， I’m nearly ready now，” answered Mrs Beaver at last， allowing her husband to help her into her snow.boots. “I suppose the sewing machine‘s too heavy to bring？”
“Yes. It is，” said Mr Beaver. “A great deal too heavy. And you don’t think you‘ll be able to use it while we’re on the run， I suppose？”