Twitch, twitch, kick, jump - Archibold was reliving all of his dance moves in his sleep. 'Bother his dreams' sighed Hortensia 'I'll just have to go downstairs and to sleep'. She had tried pushing him, blowing in his ears and her best emergency-last-resort action - pinching his nose - but all in vain, Arcihbold happily continued with his dreaming and snoring.
Hortensia padded downstairs bringing baby Harriet wrapped in her fluffy shawl, 'now that I am up, perhaps a pot of rose petal tea might be just the perfect thing help me get to sleep'. Hortensia smiled as she saw the jug with her little posy of wild flowers that she had brought back home and that were looking especially pretty on the kitchen table. Archibold had pinned their two rosettes (for the best wild strawberries and preserve) in the middle of the mantle piece, 'what a day we had, so many delights and so much fun'.
The truth was that the whole of Persimmon Heights echoed and vibrated to Archibold's snoring. Hortensia know of old, that once awake, rose petal tea and a teaspoon of honey were the only things that would ease her back to sleep. So she settled down in her rocking chair and covering her knees with a little blanket, sang a little song to baby Harriet, and sipped her tea until she fell into a soft and welcoming slumber.
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