General
"Frosty is a stupid name for a snowman. At least that’s what Jenny Whitehouse thinks. It’s like naming a dog Furry. Or naming a fish Wetty. Or naming a slug Slimy.
Jenny’s snowman deserves a good name. No, a great name."
John stood up and stepped away. There, in the snow, lay an angel. Three paces away, he stepped a small circle in the snow and made a star. John smiled. He'd done it. An angel for Mrs. Wright and a star for her little black dog, Queenie.
There once was a fine young mouse named Gregory. He lived in Perambulator Park, surviving mostly on seeds and breadcrumbs and bits of cheese he found under the picnic tables.
Gregory made his home in a tiny hole at the bottom of an extremely large tree. His best friend Al the caterpillar lived nearby on the leaves of a milkweed plant.
