Tales From Moominvalley by Tove Jansson Page A

that was too late now, of course. Friends she had none at all, because she had only collected beautiful things, and that takes time.
    'She grew more and more sad while she wandered around in her rooms. Her wonderful belongings gave her no comfort. On the contrary, they only made her think of the day when she'd go to heaven and leave them all behind her.
    'And the thought of starting a new collection up there didn't make her at all happy, whatever the reason.'
    'Poor lady!' Sniff cried. 'Couldn't she take the least little thing along with her?'
    'No,' Snufkin said. 'It's not allowed. But now dry up, please, and listen. One night this aunt of my mother's lay awake looking up at the ceiling and brooding. All around her stood lots of beautiful furniture, and all over it were lots of beautiful knick-knacks. Her things were everywhere, on the floor, on the walls, on the ceiling, in her cabinets, in her drawers - and suddenly she felt about to suffocate among all those belongings that gave her no comfort at all. And now an idea came to her. It was such a funny idea that this aunt of my mother's began to laugh where she lay. All at once she was feeling fit, and she rose and dressed and started to think.
    'She had hit upon the idea to give away everything she owned. That would give her more breathing space, and it's something you need if you've a large bone stuck in your stomach and want to be able to think of the Amazonas.'
    'How silly,' Sniff said disappointedly.
    'It wasn't silly in the least,' Snufkin objected. 'She had lots of fun while she sat thinking out what things to give away to whom.
    'She had many relations and knew still more people, you see, that's quite possible even if you've no friends. Well, she thought of everyone, one after the other, and wondered what he or she would like best. It was like a game.
    'And she wasn't stupid. To me she gave the mouth organ: Perhaps you haven't known it's gold and rosewood? Well. She thought it out so wisely that everybody got exactly the thing that suited him and that he had dreamt of.
    'This aunt of my mother's also had a turn for surprises. She sent all the things in parcels, and the receivers had no idea of who the sender was (they had never been in her home, because she had always been afraid they'd break things).

    'It amused her to imagine their astonishment, their thoughts and guesses, and she was feeling quite superior. A little like those fairies that fulfil wishes in a jiffy as they fly along.'
    'But I didn't send Cedric in a parcel,' Sniff cried with bulging eyes. 'And I'm not going to die either!'
    Snufkin sighed. 'You're the same as ever,' he said. 'But still, try to listen to a good story, can't you, even if it isn't about yourself. And think of me a bit, too. I've saved this story for you, and sometimes I like telling stories. Well, all right. At the same time something else was happening. This aunt of my mother's suddenly found that she was able to sleep at nights, and in the daytime she dreamed of the Amazonas and read books on deep sea diving and drew plans for that house for children no one wanted. She had fun, and that made herself nicer than usual and people began to like her company. I must beware, she thought. Before I know a word I'll have a lot of friends and no time to arrange that enormous party I've dreamed about...
    'Her rooms were becoming airier and airier. She sent off one parcel after the other, and the fewer possessions she had left, the lighter she felt. Finally, she was walking about in empty rooms, feeling rather like a balloon, a happy balloon ready to fly away...'
    'To heaven,' Sniff observed drily. 'Now, listen...'
    'Don't interrupt me all the time,' Snufkin said. 'I can hear you're too small for this story. But I'm going to finish it anyway. Good. By and by all her rooms were empty, and this aunt of my mother's had only her bed left.
    'It was a large canopied bed, and when her new friends came to visit her it could hold them all, and the