Moominpappa at Sea by Tove Jansson Page B

find a three-cornered stone to put in between these two large ones. A breakwater has to be strong – it must be built by someone who knows all about the sea…’ Pappa went on wading, with his nose in the water.
    Moomintroll went higher up the beach and stood where he could see Moominmamma crawling about in her garden. She was spreading out seaweed. Her paws and apron were quite brown and she radiated happy concentration.
    Moomintroll went up to her and said: ‘Mamma, just try and imagine a perfectly marvellous spot that you’ve found and made your very own, only to discover that there are crowds of other people there who don’t want to move away. Have they the right to stay put, although they don’t understand how beautiful the place is?’
    ‘Yes, of course they have,’ said Moominmamma, sitting down in the seaweed.
    ‘But what if they would be just as happy in a rubbish-heap?’ exclaimed her son.
    ‘Well, then one would have to reason with them,’ said Moominmamma. ‘And perhaps give them a hand with the moving. It’s very trying to have to move if one has lived in the same place for a long time.’
    ‘Oh, bother!’ said Moomintroll. ‘Where’s Little My?’ ‘She’s somewhere up at the lighthouse, building some sort of lift,’ answered Moominmamma.
    *

    Little My was hanging perilously out of the open north window as bold as brass. She was knocking a nail into a block of wood on the window-ledge. On the floor there was a whole pile of grey-looking things and the trap-door was open.
    ‘What do you think Pappa will say about this?’ Moomintroll asked. ‘No one’s allowed up there. It’s his private room.’
    ‘There’s a loft above his private room,’ said Little My nonchalantly. ‘A jolly nice little loft where you can find all sorts of things. Hand me that nail. I’m fed up with climbing up those stairs every time we have to eat, so I’m building a lift. You can haul me up in a basket, or else lower the food down to me. That would be even better.’
    ‘How she carries on!’ Moomintroll thought. ‘She does exactly what she feels like doing, and no one opposes her. She just does it.’
    He said: ‘By the way, that thicket. There’s no one there. No one at all. Possibly a few ants.’
    ‘Really,’ said Little My. ‘I can well believe it.’
    So that was that. She banged a nail right in, whistling between her teeth.
    ‘You’ll have to clear up all this mess before Pappa comes back,’ shouted Moomintroll in between hammer-strokes. But he had a feeling he hadn’t made any impression at all. He poked about dejectedly in the pile of old paper, tins, old fishing-nets, woollen gloves and bits of sealskin – and that’s how he found the calendar. A large wall-calendar with a wonderful
picture of a sea-horse riding on a wave in the moonlight. The moon was dipping into the sea and the sea-horse had long golden hair and very pale, unfathomable eyes. How could anyone paint so beautifully! Moomintroll put the picture on the desk and gazed at it for a long time.
    ‘It’s five years out of date,’ said Little My, jumping down to the floor. ‘The days are quite different now, and someone’s torn them off anyway. Hold the rope, and I’ll go down and see if this lift works.’
    ‘Wait a minute,’ said Moomintroll. ‘There’s something I want to ask you. What does one do to get ants to move?’
    ‘Dig them up, obviously,’ said Little My.
    ‘No, no,’ exclaimed Moomintroll. ‘I mean, to get them to go away.’
    Little My looked at him. After a while she said: ‘Ah! I see. So you’ve found a spot you like in that thicket. And it’s full of ants. What will you give me if I get rid of them?’
    He felt his nose turn red.
    ‘I’ll fix it for you,’ said Little My calmly. ‘You can go there and look after a day or two. And you can look after the lift for me instead. I’m off.’
    Moomintroll stood still, feeling miserable. The secret was out. His hide-out was now just any old