One evening, Tuck the snail stood at the Little Night Post. He had one last parcel to deliver.
It was a red umbrella for Bea Badger. A tag on the handle said, "Please bring this before the first raindrop."
Tuck looked through the window. The clouds were dark, and Bea's burrow was across the hill, over the windy bridge, and past Puddle Lane.
"I had better start now," he said.
Tuck set the umbrella across his tiny cart. He pressed its brass clasp shut.
"Fold, click, carry on," he said.
Down the hill he went. His cart rolled over an acorn.
Bump!
The umbrella sprang open. It scooped up a whole pile of dry leaves. Tuck could not see the road. He could only see brown leaves spinning above his head.
The cart rolled backward until it bumped a tree stump.
"Is that a walking leaf pile?" called Mara Mouse.
"It is me," said Tuck. "I am under the parcel."
Mara pulled out the leaves, one pawful at a time. Tuck turned the cart around and closed the umbrella again.
"Fold, click," said Tuck.
"Carry on," said Mara.
Mara walked with him to the windy bridge. A blue kite sailed past them. Its tail had come loose.
Whoosh!
The wind pushed under the umbrella. It sprang open and lifted Tuck's cart onto two wheels. The loose kite tail wrapped around the red cloth.
"My kite!" cried Mara.
Tuck held the handle. Mara held the cart. The wheels bounced once, then twice. Down came the kite, as gently as a feather.
Mara tied its tail back on.
Tuck pressed the clasp once more.
"Fold, click," said Tuck.
"Carry on," said Mara.
At Puddle Lane, three small chicks stood beneath a narrow sign. They looked up at the dark clouds. The sign was much too small to be a roof.
Plip.
One raindrop landed on Tuck's nose.
Plip, plip!
The umbrella opened for the third time. The three chicks hurried underneath it.
"Room for us?" they peeped.
"There is room if we walk close," said Tuck.
So Tuck pushed the cart. Mara carried her kite. The chicks marched beneath the umbrella, all in one wobbly row. When Tuck went left, they went left. When Tuck went right, six little feet splashed right.
By the time they reached Bea Badger's door, rain was tapping on the red cloth.
Bea opened the door and blinked.
"My umbrella has arrived," she said. "And it brought company."
Everyone squeezed into Bea's warm kitchen. Tuck set the umbrella by the door to dry. Mara rolled up her kite. The chicks sat on one wide cushion and tucked their wet feet underneath.
Bea poured warm apple tea and passed around small seed cakes.
Outside, the rain fell harder. Inside, nobody hurried.
Tuck looked at the open umbrella. One last leaf was still hiding inside it.
He put the leaf beside his cup.
"Carry on tomorrow," he said softly.
The lamps glowed low. Cups became empty. The umbrella dripped once, then rested.