Then it was all up, up, up, gradually,
as seeds grew to saplings, and saplings to forest trees, and bramble
and fern came creeping in to help. Leaf-mould rose and obliterated,
streams in their winter freshets brought sand and soil to clog and to
cover, and in course of time our home was ready for us again, and we
moved in. Up above us, on the surface, the same thing happened.
Animals arrived, liked the look of the place, took up their quarters,
settled down, spread, and flourished. They didn't bother themselves
about the past--they never do; they're too busy. The place was a bit
humpy and hillocky, naturally, and full of holes; but that was rather
an advantage. And they don't bother about the future, either--the
future when perhaps the people will move in again--for a time--as may
very well be. The Wild Wood is pretty well populated by now; with all
the usual lot, good, bad, and indifferent--I name no names. It takes
all sorts to make a world. But I fancy you know something about them
yourself by this time.'
'I do indeed,' said the Mole, with a slight shiver.
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