
A travelling circus invisible to humans rolls quietly through the Lakeland fells. Pony Billy pulls the caravan, Sandy the terrier guards it, Charles the cockerel announces the dawn, and a long-haired guinea-pig called Tuppenny sells tickets. Each chapter is a different story told by — or about — one of the animals. It is part novel, part scrapbook, part farewell.
Beatrix never planned to write it. She had been jotting down "scribbles" about her farm animals for years. Then, on a walk above Troutbeck Tongue, she watched four wild fell-ponies cantering in a circle round a stunted thorn — "to the music of Piper Wind" — and saw, in the muddy drove-road, a "multitude of un-shod footprints, much too small for horses." She wondered if a fairy caravan had passed. The book grew from there. Her American publisher, Alexander McKay, persuaded her to gather everything into a single volume.
The book was meant for America only. Beatrix thought the stories were "too personal — too autobiographical" to print in England, so she had a hundred sets of sheets shipped to a small Ambleside printer for private English binding. On the title page she used her married name: Beatrix Heelis.
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