The Story of Mrs. Tubbs
~MRS TUBBS.~
(100 years old.)
TOLD AND ILLUSTRATED BY
HUGH LOFTING
THE
STORY
OF MRS
TUBBS
Published by FREDK A. STOKES CO, 443 Fourth Av. NEW YORK
Copyright, 1923, by
Frederick A. Stokes Company
All Rights Reserved
Printed in the United States of America
To
THE TWO
ELIZABETHS
The Story of Mrs. Tubbs
Once upon a time, many, many years ago,there lived a very old woman and her name wasMrs. Tubbs. She lived on a little farm, way off inthe country. Her little house stood on the edge ofthe woods, not very far from a village with a littlechurch, and a little river with a little bridge over it,flowed close by the house. There was a barn toofor cows and horses, only the woman hadn’t anycows or horses; she lived all alone with a dog anda duck and a pig. The dog’s name was Peter Punk,the duck’s name was Polly Ponk, and the pig’sname was Patrick Pink. The old woman calledthem Punk, Ponk and Pink for short.
Mrs. Tubbs’s Farm
Punk and Ponk had known one another formany years and were very good friends. The pigthey treated as a baby because they said he wasvery young and hadn’t much sense.
The old woman did not own the farm althoughshe had lived on it so long. The farm belonged toa man up in London who never came there at all.This man, one fine day at the end of summer whenthe leaves were beginning to fall in the woods, senthis nephew, a very silly young man with a red face,down from London to live in the farm-house insteadof Mrs. Tubbs.
Punk, Ponk and Pink and the old woman wereall dreadfully sad at having to leave the home wherethey had been so happy together for so many years.
As the sun was going down behind the littlechurch one evening at the end of Summer when theleaves were beginning to fall in the woods, they allleft the farm together, Punk in front, then Pink,then Ponk and Mrs. Tubbs behind.
They walked a long, long way along the edge ofthe woods and at last when they saw a seat under atree they all sat down to rest.
They all sat down to rest
“Oh dear, oh dear,” Mrs. Tubbs kept saying,“now I have no home, no place to sleep. And mean old woman. To be turned off the farm afterall these years! What shall I do, where shall I go?Oh dear, oh dear!”
Then she stopped talking. Peter Punk and Po