Comet in Moominland

Overview

When Moomintroll learns that a comet will be passing by, he and his friend Sniff travel to the Observatory on the Lonely Mountains to consult the Professors. Along the way, they have many adventures, but the greatest adventure of all awaits them when they learn that the comet is headed straight for their beloved Moominvalley.

Second in the classic Moomintroll series. When a comet heads toward Moominvalley, Moomintroll and his friends begin one of their greatest ...

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Comet in Moominland (Moomins Series #1)

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Overview

When Moomintroll learns that a comet will be passing by, he and his friend Sniff travel to the Observatory on the Lonely Mountains to consult the Professors. Along the way, they have many adventures, but the greatest adventure of all awaits them when they learn that the comet is headed straight for their beloved Moominvalley.

Second in the classic Moomintroll series. When a comet heads toward Moominvalley, Moomintroll and his friends begin one of their greatest adventures ever. "How human, how funny and endearing these mythical little Scandinavian beasties are."--The Washington Post. Illustrated.

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Editorial Reviews

From the Publisher
“There is, in short, everything in the Moon books: giant comets and secret caves and tree houses and stilts and magic-carpet clouds and amusement parks run by despotic practical-joking kings and time machines and ski instructors.” –Harper’s

“We need Moominland for its gentle pace, its sense of beauty and awe, and its spirit of friendliness and empathy—now more than ever.” –The Horn Book

“These charming fantasies are propelled by a childlike curiosity and filled with quiet wisdom, appealing geniality, and a satisfying sense of self-discovery.” –School Library Journal.com

“If you had no shame reading Harry Potter on the subway, there’s no need to hide Tove Jansson’s witty, whimsically illustrated Finnish series.” –Daily Candy

“The Moomin books make for both splendid bedtime read-alouds and solitary savoring.” Wall Street Journal

 

“It’s more than forty years since Jansson’s Moomintrolls first appeared. I found the writing and invention as appealing as ever. She has a thistledown touch.”—The Washington Post Book World

“The adventures of the easygoing Moomintrolls have all the crispness and tart surprise of a lingonberry, thanks to Jansson’s ineffably light touch, her uncanny sensitivity to universal childhood emotions, and her gift for terse, naturalistic dialogue.”—Entertainment Weekly

“A gentle, offbeat fantasy.”—The Horn Book

“A lost treasure now rediscovered . . . A surrealist masterpiece.”—Neil Gaiman

“Jansson was a genius of a very subtle kind. These simple stories resonate with profound and complex emotions that are like nothing else in literature for children or adults: intensely Nordic, and completely universal.”—Philip Pullman

“Tove Jansson is undoubtedly one of the greatest children’s writers there has ever been. She has the extraordinary gift of writing books that are very clearly for children, but can also be enjoyed when the child, like me, is over sixty and can still find new pleasures with the insights that come from adulthood.”—Sir Terry Pratchett

“Clever, gentle, witty, and completely engrossing.”—Jeff Smith, author of Bone

“It’s not just Tove Jansson’s wonderfully strange fairytale world that so appeals but also her beautiful line work and exquisite sense of design.”—Lauren Child

“[Tove Jansson] is a master.”—The Times Literary Supplement (London)

“The most original works for children to be published since the Pooh books, and possibly, since Alice.”—Saturday Review

“You will declare yourself a citizen of Moominvalley and call the stories your own—the Moomin world is that compelling.”—Riverbank Review

Children's Literature - Barbara L. Talcroft
Tove Jansson (1914—2001) is a legend in Finland. This Moomin book was first published in English in 1951; the Moomin series went on to become a cult in many languages, inspiring a comic strip, a play, a television puppet series, a Japanese animated series, and a theme park in Finland. Tove Jansson won the Hans Christian Andersen Medal in 1966. Since 2010 marks the 65th anniversary of the Moomins' appearance, there is a new American edition with bright covers, the same translation, and all of Jansson's strikingly original pen-and-ink illustrations. Comet in Moominland has a strange, almost prophetic resonance: there have been warnings of a comet heading straight for Moomin Valley. As Moomintroll and his friends Sniff, Snufkin, and the Snork maiden—an illustrated cast list is provided—set out on a journey to find a faraway observatory, the flaming comet comes steadily closer. The friends encounter a desert, overgrown animals, shrinking seas, barren mountains, a poisonous bush, and a tornado. Their adventures are a child's dream of freedom and enabling parents, but, as a good adventure should, this one ends with the adventurers safely home just in the nick of time. About the comet, Jansson tells us that "if it had come a tiny bit nearer to the earth I am quite sure that none of us would be here now. But it just gave a whisk of its tail and swept off to another solar system far away." Though some critics find the Moomins a trifle whimsical—they do evoke the ambience of Winnie the Pooh and Wind in the Willows—there are sure to be readers and listeners who will adore their magical, amusing, very Nordic world. Reviewer: Barbara L. Talcroft
Children's Literature - Barbara L. Talcroft
Tove Jansson (1914—2001) is a legend in Finland. This Moomin book was first published in English in 1951; the Moomin series went on to become a cult in many languages, inspiring a comic strip, a play, a television puppet series, a Japanese animated series, and a theme park in Finland. Tove Jansson won the Hans Christian Andersen Medal in 1966. Since 2010 marks the 65th anniversary of the Moomins' appearance, there is a new American edition with bright covers, the same translation, and all of Jansson's strikingly original pen-and-ink illustrations. Comet in Moominland has a strange, almost prophetic resonance: there have been warnings of a comet heading straight for Moomin Valley. As Moomintroll and his friends Sniff, Snufkin, and the Snork maiden—an illustrated cast list is provided—set out on a journey to find a faraway observatory, the flaming comet comes steadily closer. The friends encounter a desert, overgrown animals, shrinking seas, barren mountains, a poisonous bush, and a tornado. Their adventures are a child's dream of freedom and enabling parents, but, as a good adventure should, this one ends with the adventurers safely home just in the nick of time. About the comet, Jansson tells us that "if it had come a tiny bit nearer to the earth I am quite sure that none of us would be here now. But it just gave a whisk of its tail and swept off to another solar system far away." Though some critics find the Moomins a trifle whimsical—they do evoke the ambience of Winnie the Pooh and Wind in the Willows—there are sure to be readers and listeners who will adore their magical, amusing, very Nordic world. Reviewer: Barbara L. Talcroft
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Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9780312608880
  • Publisher: Square Fish
  • Publication date: 4/27/2010
  • Series: Moomins Series , #1
  • Edition description: STRIPPABLE
  • Pages: 192
  • Sales rank: 171,547
  • Age range: 9 - 12 Years
  • Product dimensions: 5.40 (w) x 8.10 (h) x 0.70 (d)

Meet the Author

Tove Jansson (1914–2001) was born in Helsinki and spent much of her life in Finland. She is the author of the Moomin books. Born into an artistic family—her father was a sculptor and her mother was a graphic designer and illustrator—Jansson studied at the University College of Arts, Crafts and Design in Stockholm, the Finnish Academy of Fine Arts, and L’École des Beaux-Arts in Paris. In addition to her Moomin books, she also wrote several novels, drew comic strips and worked as a painter and illustrator. In 1966, she was awarded the Hans Christian Andersen Medal for her body of work. Jansson had a studio in Helsinki but spent most of her time at her home on a small island called Klovharu.

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Read an Excerpt

Chapter 1

Which is about Moomintroll and Sniff

following a mysterious path to the sea,

pearl- fishing, the discovery of a cave, and

how the Muskrat avoided catching a cold.

The Moomin family had been living for some weeks in the valley where they had found their house* after the dreadful flood (which is another story). It was a wonderful valley, full of happy little animals and flowering trees, and there was a clear narrow river that came down from the mountain, looped round Moominhouse, and disappeared in the direction of

another valley, where no doubt other little animals wondered where it came from.

*It was painted blue. Moomin houses usually are. Translator.

One morning—it was the morning that Moomintroll's pappa finished building a bridge over the river—the little animal Sniff made a discovery. (There were still plenty of things left for them to discover in the valley.) He was wandering in the forest when he suddenly noticed a path he had never seen before winding mysteriously into the green shadows. Sniff was spellbound and stood gazing at it for several minutes.

“It's funny about paths and rivers,” he mused. “You see them go by, and suddenly you feel upset and want to be somewhere else—wherever the path or the river is going, perhaps. I shall have to tell Moomintroll about this, and we can explore it together, because it would be a bit risky for me to go alone.” Then he carved a secret sign on a tree trunk with his penknife, so that he could find the place again, and thought proudly: “Moomintroll will be surprised.” And after that he scooted home as fast as he could so as not to be late for lunch.

Moomintroll was just putting up a swing when Sniff got home. He seemed very interested in the mysterious path, and directly after lunch they set off to have a look at it.

Halfway up the hill on their way grew a clump of blue-trees covered with big yellow pears, and of course they couldn't get past that without Sniff deciding that he was hungry.

“We'd better only take the windfalls,” said Moomintroll, “because mamma makes jam from these.” But they had to shake the tree a little so that there were some windfalls.

Sniff was very pleased with their haul. “You can carry the provisions,“ he said, “because you haven't got anything else to do, have you? I'm too busy to think about things like that when I'm the Path Pioneer“

When they reached the top of the hill they turned and looked down at the valley. Moomin house was just a blue dot, and the river a narrow ribbon of green: the swing they couldn't see at all. “We've never been such a long way from home before,“ said Moomintroll, and a little goose- fleshy thrill of excitement came over them at the thought.

Sniff started to snuffle about. He looked at the sun, felt the direction of the wind, sniffed the air, and in fact behaved in every way like a great Path Pioneer.

“It should be somewhere here,” he said busily. “I made a secret sign with my knife on a plum tree just where it began.”

“Could it possibly be here?” asked Moomintroll, pointing to a curly flourish on a tree trunk on the left.

“No! Here it is!” screamed Sniff, who had found another curly flourish on a tree trunk on the right.

At the same time they both caught sight of a third curly flourish on a tree trunk right in front of them, but it was terribly high up, at least three feet above the ground.

“That's it, I'm sure,” said Sniff, stretching himself. “I must be taller than I thought!”

“Well, strike me pink!” exclaimed Moomintroll, looking around. “There are curly flourishes everywhere! And some of them are nearly a hundred feet up. I think you've found a haunted path, Sniff, and now the spooks are trying to stop us from using it. What do you say to that?”

Sniff didn't say anything, but he got very pale about the nose. And at that moment a cackle of spooky laughter broke the silence, and down fell a big blue plum, which nearly hit Moomintroll in the eye. Sniff gave a screech of terror and ran for cover, but Moomintroll was just angry, and had decided to have a look for the enemy when, all of a sudden, he saw who it was. For the first time in his life he was face to face with a silk-monkey!

She was crouching in the fork of a tree: a small, dark, velvety ball. Her face was round and much lighter than the rest of her (about the color of Sniff's nose when he had washed rather carelessly), and her laugh was ten times bigger than herself.

“Stop that horrible cackling!” shouted Moomintroll when he saw that she was smaller than he. “This is our valley. You can go and laugh somewhere else.”

“Wretched wretch!” muttered Sniff, pretending he hadn't been frightened. But the silk-monkey just hung by her tail and laughed louder than ever. Then she threw some more plums at them and disappeared into the forest with a parting hoot of evil laughter.

“She's running away!” screamed Sniff. “Come on— let's follow her.” So off they rushed, scrambling headlong through bushes and brambles under a perfect rain of ripe berries and fircones, while all the little animals underfoot escaped into their holes as quickly as they possibly could.

The silk-monkey swung from tree to tree in front of them; she hadn't enjoyed herself so much for weeks.

“Don't you think it's ridiculous (puff) to run after a silly little monkey like that,” panted Sniff at last. “I don't see (puff) that she matters.”

Moomintroll agreed to this, and they sat down under a tree and pretended to be thinking about something important. The silk-monkey made herself comfortable in the fork of a tree above them and tried to look important too; she was having nearly as much fun as before.

“Take no notice of her,” whispered Moomintroll. Out loud he said: “Good spot this, isn't it, Sniff?”

“Yes. Interesting-looking path, too,” Sniff answered.

“Path,” repeated Moomintroll thoughtfully. And then he suddenly noticed where they were. “Why, this must be the Mysterious Path,” he gasped.

It certainly looked most mysterious. Overhead the branches of the plum trees, oaks, and silver poplars met and formed a dark tunnel which led away into the unknown.

“Now, we must take this seriously,” said Sniff, remembering that he was the Path Pioneer. “I'll look for by-paths, and you knock three times if you see anything dangerous.”

“What shall I knock on?” asked Moomintroll.

“Whatever you like,” said Sniff. “Only don't talk. And what have you done with the provisions? I suppose you've lost them. Oh, dear! Do I have to do everything myself?”

Moomintroll wrinkled his forehead dejectedly but didn't answer.

So they wandered farther into the green tunnel, Sniff looking for by-paths, Moomintroll looking for dangerous intruders, and the silk-monkey leaping overhead from branch to branch.

The path wound in and out of the trees, getting narrower and narrower, until at last it petered out altogether. Moomintroll looked baffled. “Well, that seems to be that,” he said. “It ought to have led to something very special.”

They stood still and looked at each other in disappointment. But as they stood a whiff of salt wind blew in their faces and a faint sighing could be heard in the distance.

“It must be the sea!” exclaimed Moomintroll with a whoop of joy, and he started running upwind, his heart thumping with excitement, for if there is anything Moomintrolls really love, it is swimming.

“Wait!” screamed Sniff. “Don't leave me behind!”

But Moomintroll didn't stop till he came to the sea, and there he sat down and solemnly watched the waves rolling in, one after another, each with its crest of white foam.

After a while Sniff came out from the fringe of the wood and joined him. “It's cold here,” he said. “By the way, do you remember when we sailed with the Hattifatteners in that dreadful storm, and I was so seasick?”

“That's quite another story,” said Moomintroll. “Now I'm going to swim.” And he ran straight out into the breakers, without stopping to undress (because, of course, Moomintrolls don't wear clothes, except sometimes in bed).

The silk-monkey had climbed down from her tree and was sitting on the sandy beach watching them. “What are you doing?” she cried. “Don't you know it's wet and cold?”

“We've managed to impress her at last!” said Sniff.

“Yes. I say, Sniff, can you dive with your eyes open?” asked Moomintroll.

“No!” said Sniff. “And I don't intend to try—you never know what you'll see down there on the bottom. If you do it, don't blame me if something awful happens!”

“Pooh!” said Moomintroll, diving into a big wave and swimming down through green bubbles of light. He went deeper and came upon forests of crinkly seaweed swaying gently in the current—seaweed that was decorated with beautiful white and pink shells—and even farther down the green twilight deepened until he could see only a black hole that seemed to have no bottom.

Moomintroll turned round and shot up to the surface, where a big wave carried him right back to the beach. There sat Sniff and the silk-monkey screaming for help at the tops of their voices.

“We thought you were drowned,” said Sniff, “or that a shark had eaten you up!”

“Pooh!” said Moomintroll again. “I'm used to the sea. While I was down there I got an idea—a good idea, too. But I'm wondering if an outsider should hear it or not.” And he looked pointedly at the silk-monkey.

“Go away!” Sniff said to her. “This is private.”

“Oh, please tell!” entreated the silk-monkey, for she was the most inquisitive creature in the world. “I swear

I won't breathe a word.”

“Shall we make her swear?” asked Moomintroll.

“Well, why not?” answered Sniff. “But it'll have to be a proper swear.”

“Repeat after me,” said Moomintroll. “ ‘May the ground swallow me up, may old hags rattle my dry bones, and may I never more eat ice cream if I don't guard this secret with my life.’ Go on now.”

The silk-monkey repeated the swear, but she was a bit careless over it because she could never keep a thing in her head for long. “Good!” said Moomintroll. “Now I'll tell you. I'm going to go pearl-fishing and then I shall bury all my pearls in a box here on the beach.”

“But where shall we find a box?” asked Sniff.

“I shall hand that job over to you and the silk- monkey,” replied Moomintroll.

“Why do I always have to do the difficult things?” asked Sniff gloomily. “You have all the fun.”

“You were the Path Pioneer just now,” said Moomintroll. “And besides, you can't dive. So don't be silly.”

Sniff and the silk-monkey set off along the beach. “Wretched wretch!” muttered Sniff. “He could have looked for his own old box.”

They poked around for a bit, but after a time the silk-monkey forgot what they were supposed to be doing and began to hunt for crabs instead. There was one that always careered off with his odd sideways gait and hid himself under a stone, so that they could

Excerpted from Comet in Moominland by Tove Jansson.

Copyright © 1946 by Tove Jansson.

Published in 2010 by R. R. Donnelley & Sons Company

All rights reserved. This work is protected under copyright laws and reproduction is strictly prohibited. Permission to reproduce the material in any manner or medium must be secured from the Publisher.

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First Chapter

Comet in Moominland


By Tove Jansson

Square Fish

Copyright © 2010 Tove Jansson
All right reserved.

ISBN: 9780312608880

Chapter 1
Which is about Moomintroll and Sniff
following a mysterious path to the sea,
pearl- fishing, the discovery of a cave, and
how the Muskrat avoided catching a cold.
The Moomin family had been living for some weeks in the valley where they had found their house* after the dreadful flood (which is another story). It was a wonderful valley, full of happy little animals and flowering trees, and there was a clear narrow river that came down from the mountain, looped round Moominhouse, and disappeared in the direction of
another valley, where no doubt other little animals wondered where it came from.
*It was painted blue. Moomin houses usually are. Translator.
One morning—it was the morning that Moomintroll's pappa finished building a bridge over the river—the little animal Sniff made a discovery. (There were still plenty of things left for them to discover in the valley.) He was wandering in the forest when he suddenly noticed a path he had never seen before winding mysteriously into the green shadows. Sniff was spellbound and stood gazing at it for several minutes.
“It's funny about paths and rivers,” he mused. “You see them go by, and suddenly you feel upset and want to be somewhere else—wherever the path or the river is going, perhaps. I shall have to tell Moomintroll about this, and we can explore it together, because it would be a bit risky for me to go alone.” Then he carved a secret sign on a tree trunk with his penknife, so that he could find the place again, and thought proudly: “Moomintroll will be surprised.” And after that he scooted home as fast as he could so as not to be late for lunch.
Moomintroll was just putting up a swing when Sniff got home. He seemed very interested in the mysterious path, and directly after lunch they set off to have a look at it.
Halfway up the hill on their way grew a clump of blue-trees covered with big yellow pears, and of course they couldn't get past that without Sniff deciding that he was hungry.
“We'd better only take the windfalls,” said Moomintroll, “because mamma makes jam from these.” But they had to shake the tree a little so that there were some windfalls.
Sniff was very pleased with their haul. “You can carry the provisions,“ he said, “because you haven't got anything else to do, have you? I'm too busy to think about things like that when I'm the Path Pioneer“
When they reached the top of the hill they turned and looked down at the valley. Moomin house was just a blue dot, and the river a narrow ribbon of green: the swing they couldn't see at all. “We've never been such a long way from home before,“ said Moomintroll, and a little goose- fleshy thrill of excitement came over them at the thought.
Sniff started to snuffle about. He looked at the sun, felt the direction of the wind, sniffed the air, and in fact behaved in every way like a great Path Pioneer.
“It should be somewhere here,” he said busily. “I made a secret sign with my knife on a plum tree just where it began.”
“Could it possibly be here?” asked Moomintroll, pointing to a curly flourish on a tree trunk on the left.
“No! Here it is!” screamed Sniff, who had found another curly flourish on a tree trunk on the right.
At the same time they both caught sight of a third curly flourish on a tree trunk right in front of them, but it was terribly high up, at least three feet above the ground.
“That's it, I'm sure,” said Sniff, stretching himself. “I must be taller than I thought!”
“Well, strike me pink!” exclaimed Moomintroll, looking around. “There are curly flourishes everywhere! And some of them are nearly a hundred feet up. I think you've found a haunted path, Sniff, and now the spooks are trying to stop us from using it. What do you say to that?”
Sniff didn't say anything, but he got very pale about the nose. And at that moment a cackle of spooky laughter broke the silence, and down fell a big blue plum, which nearly hit Moomintroll in the eye. Sniff gave a screech of terror and ran for cover, but Moomintroll was just angry, and had decided to have a look for the enemy when, all of a sudden, he saw who it was. For the first time in his life he was face to face with a silk-monkey!
She was crouching in the fork of a tree: a small, dark, velvety ball. Her face was round and much lighter than the rest of her (about the color of Sniff's nose when he had washed rather carelessly), and her laugh was ten times bigger than herself.
“Stop that horrible cackling!” shouted Moomintroll when he saw that she was smaller than he. “This is our valley. You can go and laugh somewhere else.”
“Wretched wretch!” muttered Sniff, pretending he hadn't been frightened. But the silk-monkey just hung by her tail and laughed louder than ever. Then she threw some more plums at them and disappeared into the forest with a parting hoot of evil laughter.
“She's running away!” screamed Sniff. “Come on— let's follow her.” So off they rushed, scrambling headlong through bushes and brambles under a perfect rain of ripe berries and fircones, while all the little animals underfoot escaped into their holes as quickly as they possibly could.
The silk-monkey swung from tree to tree in front of them; she hadn't enjoyed herself so much for weeks.
“Don't you think it's ridiculous (puff) to run after a silly little monkey like that,” panted Sniff at last. “I don't see (puff) that she matters.”
Moomintroll agreed to this, and they sat down under a tree and pretended to be thinking about something important. The silk-monkey made herself comfortable in the fork of a tree above them and tried to look important too; she was having nearly as much fun as before.
“Take no notice of her,” whispered Moomintroll. Out loud he said: “Good spot this, isn't it, Sniff?”
“Yes. Interesting-looking path, too,” Sniff answered.
“Path,” repeated Moomintroll thoughtfully. And then he suddenly noticed where they were. “Why, this must be the Mysterious Path,” he gasped.
It certainly looked most mysterious. Overhead the branches of the plum trees, oaks, and silver poplars met and formed a dark tunnel which led away into the unknown.
“Now, we must take this seriously,” said Sniff, remembering that he was the Path Pioneer. “I'll look for by-paths, and you knock three times if you see anything dangerous.”
“What shall I knock on?” asked Moomintroll.
“Whatever you like,” said Sniff. “Only don't talk. And what have you done with the provisions? I suppose you've lost them. Oh, dear! Do I have to do everything myself?”
Moomintroll wrinkled his forehead dejectedly but didn't answer.
So they wandered farther into the green tunnel, Sniff looking for by-paths, Moomintroll looking for dangerous intruders, and the silk-monkey leaping overhead from branch to branch.
The path wound in and out of the trees, getting narrower and narrower, until at last it petered out altogether. Moomintroll looked baffled. “Well, that seems to be that,” he said. “It ought to have led to something very special.”
They stood still and looked at each other in disappointment. But as they stood a whiff of salt wind blew in their faces and a faint sighing could be heard in the distance.
“It must be the sea!” exclaimed Moomintroll with a whoop of joy, and he started running upwind, his heart thumping with excitement, for if there is anything Moomintrolls really love, it is swimming.
“Wait!” screamed Sniff. “Don't leave me behind!”
But Moomintroll didn't stop till he came to the sea, and there he sat down and solemnly watched the waves rolling in, one after another, each with its crest of white foam.
After a while Sniff came out from the fringe of the wood and joined him. “It's cold here,” he said. “By the way, do you remember when we sailed with the Hattifatteners in that dreadful storm, and I was so seasick?”
“That's quite another story,” said Moomintroll. “Now I'm going to swim.” And he ran straight out into the breakers, without stopping to undress (because, of course, Moomintrolls don't wear clothes, except sometimes in bed).
The silk-monkey had climbed down from her tree and was sitting on the sandy beach watching them. “What are you doing?” she cried. “Don't you know it's wet and cold?”
“We've managed to impress her at last!” said Sniff.
“Yes. I say, Sniff, can you dive with your eyes open?” asked Moomintroll.
“No!” said Sniff. “And I don't intend to try—you never know what you'll see down there on the bottom. If you do it, don't blame me if something awful happens!”
“Pooh!” said Moomintroll, diving into a big wave and swimming down through green bubbles of light. He went deeper and came upon forests of crinkly seaweed swaying gently in the current—seaweed that was decorated with beautiful white and pink shells—and even farther down the green twilight deepened until he could see only a black hole that seemed to have no bottom.
Moomintroll turned round and shot up to the surface, where a big wave carried him right back to the beach. There sat Sniff and the silk-monkey screaming for help at the tops of their voices.
“We thought you were drowned,” said Sniff, “or that a shark had eaten you up!”
“Pooh!” said Moomintroll again. “I'm used to the sea. While I was down there I got an idea—a good idea, too. But I'm wondering if an outsider should hear it or not.” And he looked pointedly at the silk-monkey.
“Go away!” Sniff said to her. “This is private.”
“Oh, please tell!” entreated the silk-monkey, for she was the most inquisitive creature in the world. “I swear
I won't breathe a word.”
“Shall we make her swear?” asked Moomintroll.
“Well, why not?” answered Sniff. “But it'll have to be a proper swear.”
“Repeat after me,” said Moomintroll. “ ‘May the ground swallow me up, may old hags rattle my dry bones, and may I never more eat ice cream if I don't guard this secret with my life.’ Go on now.”
The silk-monkey repeated the swear, but she was a bit careless over it because she could never keep a thing in her head for long. “Good!” said Moomintroll. “Now I'll tell you. I'm going to go pearl-fishing and then I shall bury all my pearls in a box here on the beach.”
“But where shall we find a box?” asked Sniff.
“I shall hand that job over to you and the silk- monkey,” replied Moomintroll.
“Why do I always have to do the difficult things?” asked Sniff gloomily. “You have all the fun.”
“You were the Path Pioneer just now,” said Moomintroll. “And besides, you can't dive. So don't be silly.”
Sniff and the silk-monkey set off along the beach. “Wretched wretch!” muttered Sniff. “He could have looked for his own old box.”
They poked around for a bit, but after a time the silk-monkey forgot what they were supposed to be doing and began to hunt for crabs instead. There was one that always careered off with his odd sideways gait and hid himself under a stone, so that they could
Excerpted from Comet in Moominland by Tove Jansson.
Copyright © 1946 by Tove Jansson.
Published in 2010 by R. R. Donnelley & Sons Company
All rights reserved. This work is protected under copyright laws and reproduction is strictly prohibited. Permission to reproduce the material in any manner or medium must be secured from the Publisher.

Continues...

Excerpted from Comet in Moominland by Tove Jansson Copyright © 2010 by Tove Jansson. Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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