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Stuart stopped to get a drink of lemonade in a very beautiful town. The houses in this town were white and high and the elm trees were green and higher than the houses. The streets ran down to the river flowed quietly under the bridge. The gardens ended in fields and the fields ended in green pastures and the pastures climbed the hills. Stuart parked his car in front of the general store and got out. The sun was bright and it was pleasant to be in a new place on such a fine day. Stuart sat down on the steps to have a little rest. He thought that he could spend all his life in this beautiful town. But then he remembered New York City and his family, Mr. and Mrs. Little, and his brother George, and the bird Margalo. “I must find Margalo first!” he thought.

After a while the storekeeper came out to smoke a cigarette and he sat down on the steps beside Stuart. He wanted to offer Stuart a cigarette, but when he noticed how small Stuart was he changed his mind.

“Have you lemonade in your store?” asked Stuart. “I want to have a drink.”

“Of course,” said the storekeeper. “Gallons of it. Lemonade, Coca Cola, Pepsi Cola, Dipsi Cola, Pipsi Cola, Popsi Cola. Anything you want.”

“Give me a bottle of lemonade, please,” said Stuart, “and a paper cup.”

The storekeeper went back into the store and brought the bottle. He opened it, poured some lemonade into the cup and put the cup down on the step below Stuart. Stuart took his cap, lay down on his stomach and dipped out the cool lemonade with his cap.

“That’s very nice,” said Stuart. “It is so pleasant to drink some cool lemonade in the heat of the day.”

“Are you going far?” asked the storekeeper.

“Perhaps very far,” said Stuart. “I am looking for a bird. Her name is Margalo. Haven’t you seen her?”

“I don’t know,” said the storekeeper. “What does she look like?”

“She is very beautiful,” answered Stuart and wiped his lips with his sleeve. “She is a wonderful bird. Anybody would notice her. She comes from a place where there are ferns and thistles.”

The storekeeper looked sharply at Stuart.

“How tall are you?” he asked.

“Two inches and a quarter,” answered Stuart. “Father measured me last week. But maybe I have grown a bit since.”

“You know,” said the storekeeper, “I advise you to meet Harriet Ames. She lives in this town.”

“Who is she?” asked Stuart.

“She is a young girl, and she is just your size -- maybe a little shorter.”

“What is she like? I hope she is not fat?”

“No, Harriet is very pretty and she has the best dresses in this town. Her parents are very rich. They live in a fine big house. Harriet will be glad to meet you.”

“That’s very kind of you,” answered Stuart. “But I never stay long anywhere. I travel from town to town and look for Margalo. Sometimes I feel that I am quite near to her, and sometimes I feel that I shall never find her and never hear her voice again. Now it is time to go.”

Stuart paid for the lemonade, said good-bye to the storekeeper, and drove off to the north.

But in the afternoon the town was even more beautiful. Stuart reached the end of the main street, turned to the left and drove down to the bank of the river. He wanted to have a rest. He swam and lay on his back on the soft bank with his hands under his head. He thought about the conversation with the storekeeper. “Harriet Ames,” he murmured.

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This version of Stuart Little was originally published in Moscow, in 1964.  All rights are reserved by respective copyright owners and this version must not be used in any other but private ESL study settings.  Hard or electronic copies for business purposes are prohibited.

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