Tove Jansson - Moominsummer Madness

Did anybody take the hammock in? asked Moominpappa suddenly.

No one had remembered the hammock.

Good, said Moominpappa. It was a horrid colour.

The swish and hiss of the water outside made them sleepy, and one after another they curled up on the floor and went to sleep. But before he blew the candle out Moominpappa set the alarm-clock at seven.

He was terribly curious about what had happened outside.

M OOMINMAMMA was sitting on the front steps in the sun, rigging a model bark schooner.

One big sail on the mainmast, and one on the mizzen, and several small three-cornered ones to the bowsprit, if I remember rightly, she thought.

The rudder was a ticklish job, and the hold an odder one. Moominmamma had cut a tiny bark hatch, and when she laid it on it fitted snugly and neatly over the hold.

Just in case of a hurricane, she said to herself with a happy sigh.

By her side on the steps, knees under chin, sat the Mymbles daughter, looking on. She saw Moominmamma next tack the stays with small glass-headed pins, each of a different colour. The mast-heads were already flying bright red pennants.

For whom is it? asked the Mymbles daughter respectfully.

For Moomintroll, replied his Mamma, and searched her work-basket for something for an anchor cable.

Dont push me about! cried a small voice from the basket.

Dear me, said Moominmamma, heres your little sister in my work-basket again! Shes going to hurt herself on the pins and needles one day.

My! said the Mymbles daughter menacingly and tried to pull her sister out of a skein of wool. Come out at once!

But Little My managed to crawl deeper into the wool, where she disappeared completely.

Such a nuisance she turned out so very small, complained the Mymbles daughter. I never know where to look for her. Couldnt you make a bark boat for her, too? She could sail in the water barrel, and Id always know where she is.

Moominmamma laughed and looked in her handbag for another piece of bark.

Do you think this would hold Little My? she asked.

Certainly, said the Mymbles daughter. But youll have to make a small life-belt as well.

May I cut up your knitting ball? shouted Little My from the sewing-basket.

By all means, replied Moominmamma. She was admiring her schooner and wondered if she had forgotten anything. As she sat holding it in her paw a big black flake of soot came floating down and landed amidships on the deck.

Ugh, said Moominmamma and blew it away. Immediately another flake landed on her snout. Suddenly the air was full of soot.

Moominmamma rose with a sigh.

So very annoying, this volcano, she remarked.

Volcano? asked Little My, and thrust an interested head out of the wool.

Yes, its a mountain not so very far from here, and all of a sudden its begun spitting fire and smoke over the whole valley, explained Moominmamma. And soot. Its always

kept quiet and good ever since I married. And now, after all these years, exactly when Ive finished my washing, it has to sneeze once again and blacken all the things I hang out.

Everybodys burning up! shouted Little My happily, And everybodys houses and gardens and playthings and little sisters and their playthings!

Fiddlesticks, said Moominmamma genially and whisked away another speck of soot from her snout.

Then she went off to look for Moomintroll.

*

Under the slope, a little to the right of Moominpappas hammock tree, was a large pond of clear, brown water. The Mymbles daughter always insisted that it had no bottom in the middle. Perhaps she was right. Around the edges broad and shining leaves grew for dragonflies and skimming-beetles to rest on, and below the surface spidery creatures used to row wrigglingly along, trying to look important. Further down the pond-frogs eyes glinted like gold, and sometimes you could catch a quick glimpse of her mysterious relatives that lived deep down in the mud.

Moomintroll was lying in his customary place (or one of his places) curled up on the green-and-yellow moss with his tail carefully tucked in under him.

He looked gravely and contentedly down into the water while he listened to the rustle of wings and the drowsy buzz of bees around him.

Its for me, he thought. Im sure its for me. She always makes the first bark boat of the summer for the one she likes most. Then she muddles it all away a little, because she doesnt want anybody to feel hurt. If that water-spider goes crawling eastward therell be no dinghy. If it goes westward shes made a dinghy so small that you hardly dare take it in your paw.

The spider crawled off eastward, and tears welled up in Moomintrolls eyes.

At that moment there was a rustling in the grass, and his mother thrust out her head between the tufts.

Hello, she said. Ive got something for you.

She bent down and floated the schooner with great care. It balanced beautifully over its own reflection and started away on the port tack as if manned by old salts.

Moomintroll saw at a glance that she had forgotten the dinghy.

He rubbed his snout friendlily against hers (it feels like stroking your face against white velvet) and said: Its the nicest youve ever made.

They sat side by side in the moss and watched the

schooner sail across the pond and land at the other shore beside a large leaf.

Over at the house the Mymbles daughter was shouting for her little sister. My! My! she yelled. Horrible little menace! My-y-y! Come home at once so I can pull your hair!

Shes hid somewhere again, said Moomintroll. Remember that time we found her in your bag?

Moominmamma nodded. She was dipping her snout in the water and looking at the bottom.

Theres a nice gleam down there, she said.

Its your golden bracelet, said Moomintroll. And the Snork Maidens necklace. Good idea, isnt it?

Splendid, said his mother. Well always keep our bangles in brown pond water in the future. Theyre so much more beautiful that way.

*

On the front steps of the Moominhouse stood the Mymbles daughter, and nearly breaking her voice with yelling. Little My sat quietly in one of her numberless hide-outs, just as her sister knew.

Shed use some kind of bait instead, if she were wise, thought Little My. Honey for instance. And then beat me up when I came.

Mymble, said Moominpappa from his rocking-chair. If you keep shouting like that shell never come.

Its for my consciences sake, explained the Mymbles daughter a little conceitedly. It hurts me more than her. When Mother went away she said to me: Now Im leaving your little sister in your care, and if you cant bring her up nobody can, because Ive left off from the beginning.

I see, said Moominpappa. Then please yell all you want to, if it takes a weight off your mind. He reached out for a piece of cake from the luncheon table, looked around him carefully, and dipped it in the cream jug.

The verandah table was laid for five. The sixth plate was under it, because the Mymbles daughter declared that she felt more independent there.