Once upon a time there was a little girl called Lucie, who lived at a farm called Little-town.
์๋ ์์ , ๋ฃจ์๋ผ๋ ์๋ ๊ฐ "๋ฆฌํ-ํ์ด"์ด๋ผ๋ ๋์ฅ์ ์ด๊ณ ์์์ด์.
She was a good little girlโ only she was always losing her pocket-handkerchiefs!
๋ฃจ์๋ ์ฐฉํ ์๋ ์์ด์. ์ธ์ ๋ ์์๊ฑด์ ์์ด๋ฒ๋ฆฐ๋ค๋ ๊ฑธ ๋นผ๋ฉด์!
One day little Lucie came into the farm-yard crying-oh, she did cry so!
์ด๋ ๋ , ์์ ๋ฃจ์๋ ๋์ฅ ๋ถ์ง ์์ผ๋ก ๋ค์ด์์ด์. ์ค, ์๋ ๋ ์ธ๊ณ ์์์ด์!
"I've lost my poket-handkin! Three handkins and a pinny! Have you seen them, Tabby Kitten?"
"๋ ์์๊ฑด์ ์์ด๋ฒ๋ ธ์ด! ์ธ ์ฅ์ ์์๊ฑด๊ณผ ๋จธ๋ฆฌํ์ ๋ง์ด์ผ! ํน์ ๋ณด์ง ๋ชปํ๋, ์ผ๋ฃฉ ๊ณ ์์ด์ผ?"
The Kitten went on washing her white paws; so Lucie asked a speckled henโ
๊ณ ์์ด๋ ํ์ ๋ฐ์ ๊นจ๋ํ๊ฒ ๋ง๋๋๋ผ ๋ฐ๋นด์ด์. ๊ทธ๋์ ๋ฃจ์๋ ์ผ๋ฃฉ๋๋ฃฉํ ์ํ์๊ฒ ๋ฌผ์์ด์.
"Sally Henny-penny, have you found three pocket-handkins?"
"์๋ฆฌ ํค๋-ํ๋, ํน์ ์์๊ฑด ์ธ ์ฅ ๋ดค๋?"
But the speckled hen ran into a barn, cluckingโ
ํ์ง๋ง ๊ทธ ์ํ์ ๊ผฌ๊ผฌ๋๊ฑฐ๋ฆฌ๋ฉฐ ํ๊ฐ์ผ๋ก ๋ฌ๋ ค๊ฐ ๋ฒ๋ ธ์ด์.
"I go barefoot, barefoot, barefoot!"
"๋๋ ๋งจ๋ฐ๋ก, ๋งจ๋ฐ๋ก, ๋งจ๋ฐ๋ก ๋ค๋ !"
And then Lucie asked Cock Robin sitting on a twig.
๊ทธ ๋ค์, ๋ฃจ์๋ ๋๋ญ๊ฐ์ง ์์ ์์ ์๋ ์ธ์์๊ฒ ๋ฌผ์์ด์.
Cock Robin looked sideways at Lucie with his bright black eye, and he flew over a stile and away.
์ธ์๋ ๋ฐ์ ๊ฒ์ ๋๋์๋ก ๋ฃจ์๋ฅผ ๊ณ๋์งํ๋๋ ์ธํ๋ฆฌ๋ฅผ ๋์ด ๋ ์๊ฐ ๋ฒ๋ ธ์ด์.
Lucie climbed upon the stile and looked up at the hill behind Little-townโ a hill that goes upโupโ into the clouds as though it had no top!
๋ฃจ์๋ ์ธํ๋ฆฌ ์๋ก ์ฌ๋ผ๊ฐ ๋ฆฌํ-ํ์ด ๋ค๋ก ํผ์ณ์ง ์ธ๋์ ์ฌ๋ ค๋ค๋ดค์ด์. ๊ทธ ์ธ๋์ ๊ตฌ๋ฆ์ ๋ซ๊ณ ๋์์์ด ํผ์ณ์ ธ ์์์ด์. ๊ผญ๋๊ธฐ๊ฐ ์๋ ๊ฒ์ฒ๋ผ!
And a great way up the hill-side she thought she saw some white things spread upon the grass.
์ธ๋ ๊ผญ๋๊ธฐ๋ฅผ ๋ณด๋ฉฐ ๋ฃจ์๋ ์๊ฐํ์ด์. ์๋ ์์ ํ์ ๊ฒ๋ค์ด ํผ์ณ์ง ๊ฒ์ฒ๋ผ ๋ณด์ธ๋ค๊ณ .
Lucie scrambled up the hill as fast as her stout legs would carry her;
๋ฃจ์๋ ์ธ๋์ ์ค๋ฅด๊ธฐ ์์ํ์ด์. ๊ทธ๋ ์ ํตํตํ ๋ค๋ฆฌ๊ฐ ๊ทธ๋ ๋ฅผ ์ฎ๊ธธ ์ ์๋ ์ต๋ํ์ ์๋๋ก.
She ran along a steep path-wayโup and upโuntil Little-town was right away down belowโ she could have dropped a pebble down the chimney!
๊ฐํ๋ฅธ ์ค์๊ธธ์ ๋ฐ๋ผ ๋ฌ๋ ธ์ต๋๋ค. ์ค๋ฅด๊ณ ์ฌ๋ผ, ๋ฆฌํ-ํ์ด์ด ๋ฐ๋ก ์๋์ ์ฌ ๋๊น์งโ ๋ฃจ์๋ ๊ตด๋ ์๋๋ก
์กฐ์ฝ๋์ ๋จ์ด๋จ๋ฆด ์ ์์ ๋งํผ ์ฌ๋ผ๊ฐ์ต๋๋ค.
Presently she came to a spring, bubbling out from the hill-side.
์ง๊ธ, ๊ทธ๋ ๋ ์ธ๋ ์คํฑ์ ๋ถ๊ธ๋ถ๊ธ ๋๋ ์์ ๋์ฐฉํ์ต๋๋ค.
Some one had stood a tin can upon a stone to catch the waterโ but the water was already running over, for the can was no bigger than an egg-cup!
๋๊ตฐ๊ฐ ๋ฌผ์ ๋ฐ์ผ๋ ค ๊นกํต์ ๋ฐ์ ์์ ์ธ์๋์์ต๋๋ค. ํ์ง๋ง ๊นกํต์ ๊ณ๋ ์ปต๋ณด๋ค ์์์, ๋ฌผ์ ์ด๋ฏธ ๋์น๊ณ
์์์ด์.
And where the sand upon the path was wet-there were foot- marks of a very small person.
๊ทธ๋ฆฌ๊ณ ์ค์๊ธธ์ ๋ชจ๋๋ ์ ์ด ์์์ด์. ์์ฃผ ์์ ์ฌ๋์ ๋ฐ์๊ตญ ๋ชจ์๋๋ก.
Rucie ran on, and on.
๋ฃจ์๋ ๋ฌ๋ฆฌ๊ณ ๋ฌ๋ ธ์ด์.
The path ended under a big rock. The grass was short and green, and there were clothesโ props cut from bracken stems, with lines of plaited rushes, and a heap of tiny clothes pins but no pocket-handkerchiefs!
์ค์๊ธธ์ ์ปค๋ค๋ ๋ฐ์ ์๋์์ ๋๊ฒผ์ด์. ์งง๊ณ ํธ๋ฆํธ๋ฆํ ์๋๊ฐ ์์๊ณ , ๊ณ ์ฌ๋ฆฌ ์ค๊ธฐ์์ ์๋ผ๋ธ ์ฅ์ํ๊ณผ
๋์ ๊ณจํ๋ก ๋ง๋ ๋นจ๋ซ์ค๊ณผ ์์ ์ทํ ๋๋ฏธ๊ฐ ์์์ด์. ํ์ง๋ง ์์๊ฑด์ ์์์ต๋๋ค.
But there was something else a door! straight into the hill; and inside it some one was singing
๋์ ๊ทธ๊ณณ์๋ ๋ ๋ค๋ฅธ ๋ฌธ์ด ์์์ต๋๋ค. ์ธ๋์ผ๋ก ๋ฐ๋ก ๋ค์ด๊ฐ์ ๊ทธ ์์์ ๋๊ตฐ๊ฐ ๋ ธ๋ํ๊ณ ์์์ต๋๋ค.
"Lily-white and clean, oh! With little frills between, oh! Smooth and hot red rusty spot! Never here be seen, oh!"
"๋ฐฑํฉ์ฒ๋ผ ํ์๊ณ ์๊ฒฐํ๊ตฌ๋, ์ค! ์ฌ์ด์ ์์ ํ๋ฆด์ด ์์ด, ์ค! ๋ถ๋๋ฝ๊ณ ๋จ๊ฑฐ์ด, ๋นจ๊ฐ๊ฒ ๋ น์จ ๊ณณ๋! ์ ๋ ์ฌ๊ธฐ์ ๋ณด์ง ๋ชปํด, ์ค!"
Lucie, knocked once-twice, and interrupted the song.
๋ฃจ์๊ฐ ๋, ๋, ๋ ๋ฒ ๋ ธํฌํ์ ๋ ธ๋๊ฐ ๋ฉ์ท์ด์.
A little frightened voice called out "Who's that?"
์ด์ง ๊ฒ๋จน์ ๋ชฉ์๋ฆฌ๊ฐ ๋ฌผ์์ด์. "๊ฑฐ๊ธฐ ๋๊ตฌ์์?"
Lucie opened the door: and what do you think there was inside the hill? -a nice clean kitchen with a flagged floor and wooden beams- just like any other farm kitchen.
๋ฃจ์๋ ๋ฌธ์ ์ด์์ด์. ์ธ๋ ์์ ๋ฌด์์ด ์์์๊น์? ๋์ด ๊น๋ฆฐ ๋ฐ๋ฅ๊ณผ ๋ชฉ์ฌ ๊ธฐ๋ฅ์ด ์๋ ๊นจ๋ํ ๋ถ์์ด ์์์ด์.
๋ค๋ฅธ ๋์ฅ์ ๋ถ์๊ณผ ๋น๊ตํด๋ ์์์ด ์์ ์ ๋๋ก ๋ฉ์ก์ต๋๋ค.
Only the ceiling was so low that lucie's head nearly touched it; and the pots and pans were small, and so was everything there.
ํ์ง๋ง ์ฒ์ฅ์ด ๋๋ฌด ๋ฎ์์ ๋ฃจ์์ ๋จธ๋ฆฌ๊ฐ ๋ฟ์๋ฝ๋ง๋ฝ ํ์ด์. ๊ทธ๋ฆฌ๊ณ ๋๋น์ ํฌ๋ค, ๊ฑฐ๊ธฐ ์๋ ๋ชจ๋ ๊ฒ์ด ์กฐ๊ทธ๋งํ์ต๋๋ค.
There was a nice hot singey smell; and at the table, with an iron in her hand stood a very stout short person staring anxiously at Lucie.
๋งค์ฐ ๋จ๊ฑฐ์ด ๊ทธ์์ ๋์๊ฐ ๋ฌ์ต๋๋ค. ๊ทธ๋ฆฌ๊ณ ํ ์ด๋ธ์๋, ๋งค์ฐ ์งง๊ณ ๋ค๋ถ์ง ์ฌ๋์ด ๋ค๋ฆฌ๋ฏธ๋ฅผ ์ฅ๊ณ ์ ์ฑ ์ด์กฐํ ์ผ๊ตด๋ก ๋ฃจ์๋ฅผ ๋ฐ๋ผ๋ณด๊ณ ์์์ต๋๋ค.
Her print gown was tucked up, and she was wearing a large apron over her striped petticoat.
๊ทธ๋ ์ ํ๋ฆฐํธ ๊ฐ์ด์ ์ค์ ๋ฃ์ด์ ธ ์์๊ณ , ๊ทธ๋ ๊ฐ ์ ์ ์์น๋ง๋ ๊ทธ ์๋ ์ค๋ฌด๋ฌ ํํฐ์ฝํธ์ ๋นํด ๋๋ฌด ์ปธ์ด์.
Her little black nose went sniffle, sniffle, sniffle, and her eyes went twinkle, twinkle; and underneath her cap-where Lucie had yellow curls- that little person had PRICKLES!
๊ทธ๋ ์ ์์ ์ฝ๋ ์์ฐ, ์์ฐ, ์์ฐ๊ฑฐ๋ ธ๊ณ ๋๋์๋ ๋ฐ์ง, ๋ฐ์ง๊ฑฐ๋ ธ์ต๋๋ค. ๊ทธ๋ฆฌ๊ณ ๊ทธ๋ ์ ๋ชจ์ ์๋-๋ฃจ์์ ๊ธ๋ฐ ๊ณฑ์ฌ ๋จธ๋ฆฌ๊ฐ ์๋- ์์ ์ฌ๋์ ๊ณค๋์ ๊ฐ์๋ฅผ ๊ฐ์ง๊ณ ์์์ต๋๋ค!
"Who are you?" said Lucie. "Have you seen my pocket-handkins?"
"๋๊ตฌ์ธ์?" ๋ฃจ์๊ฐ ๋งํ์ต๋๋ค. "์ ์์๊ฑด ๋ณด์ จ๋์?"
The little person made a bob-curtsey "Oh, yes, if you please'm; my name is Mrs. Tiggy-winkle; oh, yes, if you please'm, I'm an excellent clear-starcher!" And she took something out of a clothes-basket, and spread it on the ironing-blanket.
์์ ์ธ๊ฐ์ ๋ฌด๋ฆ์ ๊ตฝํ๊ณ ํ๋ฆฌ ์์ฌ ์ธ์ฌํ์ด์. "์ค, ๊ทธ๋ผ์. (๋น์ ์ด ๋ฌผ์ด๋ณด์ ๋ค๋ฉด) ์๊ฐํด์ผ์ฃ . ์ ์ด๋ฆ์ ํฐ๊ธฐ-์ํด ๋ถ์ธ์ด์์. ์ค, ๊ทธ๋ผ์. (๋น์ ์ด ๋ฌผ์ด๋ณด์ ๋ค๋ฉด) ์๊ฐํด์ผ์ฃ . ์ ๋ ๋งค์ฐ ํ๋ฅญํ ์์ ๊ณต์ด์์!" ๊ทธ๋ฆฌ๊ณ ๊ทธ๋ ๋ ์ท๋ฐ๊ตฌ๋์์ ๋ฌด์ธ๊ฐ ๊ฐ์ ธ์ ๋ค๋ฆฌ๋ฏธํ(๋ค๋ฆผ์ง์ฉ ๋งคํธ)์ ํผ์ณ๋์์ด์.
"What's that thing?" said Lucieโ "that's not my pocket-handkin?"
"๊ทธ๊ฑด ๋ญ๊ฐ์?" ๋ฃจ์๊ฐ ๋ฌผ์์ด์. "๋ด ์์๊ฑด์ ์๋์ฃ ?"
"Oh no, if you please'm; that's a little scarlet waist-coat belonging to Cock Robin!"
"์ค, ์๋จ. ์ด๊ฑด ์ธ์๊ฐ ๋งก๊ธด ์๊ณ ๋ถ์ ์กฐ๋ผ์์."
And she ironed it and folded it, and put it on one side.
๊ทธ๋ ๋ ๊ทธ๊ฒ์ ๋ค๋ฆฌ๊ณ ์ ์ ํ, ํ์ชฝ์ ๋ฃ์ด๋์์ด์.
Then she took something else off a clothes-horseโ "That isn't my pinny?" said Lucie.
๊ทธ๋ฐ ํ ๊ทธ๋ ๋ ๋นจ๋ ๊ฑด์กฐ๋์์ ๋ค๋ฅธ ๊ฒ์ ๊ฐ์ ธ์์ด์. "๊ทธ๊ฑด ๋ด ์์น๋ง ์๋๊ฐ์?" ๋ฃจ์๊ฐ ๋ฌผ์์ด์.
"Oh no, if you please'm; that's a damask table-cloth belonging to Jenny Wren; look how it's stained with currant wine! It's very bad rto wash!" said Mrs. Tiggy-winkle.
"์ค, ์๋จ. ์ด๊ฑด ๊ตด๋์๊ฐ ๋งก๊ธด ๋ค๋ง์คํฌ ์ํ๋ณด์์. ๋ด์, ์ด ํฌ๋์ฃผ ์ผ๋ฃฉ์! ์ด๊ฑด ์ ๋ง ์ง์์ง์ง ์์ฃ ."
Mrs. Tiggy-winkle's nose went sniffle, sniffle, snuffle, and her eyes went twinkle, twinkle; and she fetched another hot iron from the fire.
ํฐ๊ธฐ-์ํด ๋ถ์ธ์ ์ฝ๋ ์์ฐ, ์์ฐ, ์์ฐ๊ฑฐ๋ ธ๊ณ ๋๋์๋ ๋ฐ์ง๋ฐ์ง๊ฑฐ๋ ธ์ด์. ๊ทธ๋ฆฌ๊ณ ๊ทธ๋ ๋ ๋ถ์์์ ๋ฌ๊ตฐ ๋ ํ๋์ ๋ค๋ฆฌ๋ฏธ๋ฅผ ๊ฐ์ ธ์์ต๋๋ค.
"There's one of my pocket-handkins!" cried Lucieโ "and there's my pinny!"
"์ ๊ธฐ ๋ด ์์๊ฑด์ด ์์ด์!" ๋ฃจ์๊ฐ ์ธ๊ธฐ ์์ํ์ต๋๋ค. "๋ด ์์น๋ง๋!"
Mrs. Tiggy-winkle ironed it, and goffered it, and shook out the frills.
ํฐ๊ธฐ-์ํด ๋ถ์ธ์ ๊ทธ๊ฒ์ ๋ค๋ฆฌ๊ณ , ์ฃผ๋ฆ์ ์ก์ ๋ค์, ํ๋ฆด๋ค์ ํธ์์ด์.
"Oh that is lovely!" said Lucie.
"์, ์๋ป์!" ๋ฃจ์๊ฐ ์ธ์ณค์ด์.
"And what are those long yellow things with fingers like gloves?"
"๊ทธ๋ฆฌ๊ณ ๊ธฐ๋ค๋ ๋ ธ๋์ ์๊ฐ๋ฝ์ด ๋ฌ๋ฆฐ ์ฅ๊ฐ ๊ฐ์ ๊ฒ์ ๋ญ๊ฐ์?"
"Oh, that's a pair of stockings belonging to Sally Henny-pennyโ look how she's worn the heels out with scratching in the yard! She'll very soon go barefoot!" said Mrs. Tiggy-winkle.
"์ค! ๊ทธ๊ฑด ์๋ฆฌ ํค๋-ํ๋๊ฐ ๋งก๊ธด ์คํํน์ด๋๋๋ค! ๋ณด์ธ์, ๋ง๋น์ ๊ธ์ด๋ ํ์ ๋ค๊ฟ์น๊ฐ ๋ณ์ ๋ฒ๋ ธ์ด์. ๊ทธ๋ ๋ ๊ธ์ธ ๋งจ๋ฐ์ด ๋์ด๋ฒ๋ฆด ๊ฑฐ์์!" ํฐ๊ธฐ-์ํด ๋ถ์ธ์ด ๋งํ์ด์.
"Why, there's another handkersniffโ but it isn't mine; it's red?"
"์, ์์๊ฑด์ด ํ ์ฅ ๋ ์์ด์. ํ์ง๋ง ์ ๊ฑด ์๋์์. ๋นจ๊ฐ์์ด๋ค์?"
"Oh no, if you please'm; that one belongs to old Mrs. Rabbit; and it did so smell of onions! I've had to wash it separately, I can't get out the smell."
"์ค, ์๋จ. ๊ทธ๊ฑด ๋์ด๊ฐ ์ง๊ธํ ํ ๋ผ ๋ถ์ธ์ด ๋งก๊ธด ๊ฑฐ์์. ์ํ ๋์๊ฐ ์ฌํ๊ฒ ๋ฐฐ์ด๋ฒ๋ ธ์ฃ . ๋๋ ๊ทธ๊ฑธ ๋ฐ๋ก ๋นจ์ ๋ณด์์ง๋ง, ๋์ ํ ๋์๊ฐ ๋น ์ง์ง ์์์."
"There's another one of mine," said Lucie.
"์ ๊ธฐ, ๋ ์ ์์๊ฑด์ด ์์ด์." ๋ฃจ์๊ฐ ๋งํ์ด์.
"What are those funny little white things?"
"์ ๊ธฐ ์ด์ํ๊ฒ ์๊ธด ์กฐ๊ทธ๋ง ํ์ ๊ฒ์ ๋ฌด์์ธ๊ฐ์?"
"That's a pair of mittens belonging to Tabby Kitten; I only have to iron them; she washes them herself."
"๊ทธ๊ฑด ์ผ๋ฃฉ ๊ณ ์์ด๊ฐ ๋งก๊ธด ์ฅ๊ฐ์ด์์. ๋๋ ๋ค๋ฆผ์ง๋ง ํด์ฃผ๋ฉด ๋ผ์. ๋นจ๋๋ ๊ทธ๋ ๊ฐ ์ง์ ํ๊ฑฐ๋ ์."
"There's my last pocket-handkin!" said Lucie.
"๋ด ๋ง์ง๋ง ์์๊ฑด์ด์์!" ๋ฃจ์๊ฐ ๋งํ์ด์.
"And what are you dipping into the basin of starch?"
"๊ทธ๋ฐ๋ฐ, ๋์ผ ์ ํ์ ๋ฌด์์ ๋ด๊ฐ๋ ๊ฑฐ์์?"
"They're little dicky shirt-fronts belonging to Tom Titmouseโmost terrible particular!" said Mrs. Tiggy-winkle. "Now I've finished my ironing; I'm going to air some clothes."
"๊ทธ๊ฑด ์์ปท ๋ฐ์๊ฐ ๋งก๊ธด ๋ชฉ์ ๋๋ ์์ ์ ์ธ โ ์ ์ผ ๋์ฐํ ๊น๋ค๋ก์ด ์ธํ๋ฌผ์ด๋๋๋ค." ํฐ๊ธฐ-์ํด ๋ถ์ธ์ด ๋งํ์ด์. "์ด์ ๋ค๋ฆผ์ง์ ๋๋์ผ๋, ์ท๋ค์ ๋ง๋ ค์ผ๊ฒ ์ด์."
"What are these dear soft fluffy things?" said Lucie.
"์ ์ฌ๋์ค๋ฝ๊ณ ํญ์ ํญ์ ํ ์ํธ๋ค์ ๋ญ๊ฐ์?" ๋ฃจ์๊ฐ ๋ฌผ์์ต๋๋ค.
"Oh, Those are woolly coats belonging to the little lambs at Skelghyl."
"์ค, ๊ทธ๊ฑด ์ค์ผ๊ธธ์ ์ฌ๋ ์๊ธฐ ์๋ค์ด ๋งก๊ธด ํธ ์ฝํธ๋๋๋ค."
"Will their jackets take off?" asked Lucie.
"์ํธ ์ฌํท์ ๋ฒ์ ์ ์์ด์?" ๋ฃจ์๊ฐ ๋ฌผ์์ต๋๋ค.
"Oh, yes. If you please'm; look at the sheep-mark on the shoulder. And here's one marked for Gatesgarth, and three that come from Little-town. They're always marked at washing!" said Mrs. Tiggy-winkle.
"์ค, ๊ทธ๋ผ์. ์ฌ๊ธฐ ์ด๊นจ์ ์ฐํ ์ํธ ๋งํฌ๋ฅผ ๋ณด์ธ์. ๊ทธ๋ฆฌ๊ณ ์ฌ๊ธฐ ํ๋๋ ๊ฒ์ด์ธ ๊ฐ์ค์์, ๊ทธ๋ฆฌ๊ณ ์ธ ๊ฐ๋ ๋ฆฌํ-ํ์ด
์์ ์์ฃ . ๊ทธ๋ค์ ์ธ์ ๋ ์ธํํ ๋ ํ์ํด๋ฌ์." ํฐ๊ธฐ-์ํด ๋ถ์ธ์ด ๋๋ตํ์ต๋๋ค.
And she hung up all sorts and sizes of clothesโ small brown coats of mice; and one velvety black moleskin waist-coat; and a red tailcoat with no tail belonging to Squirrel Nutkin; and a very much shrunk blue jacket belonging to Peter Rabbit; and a petticoat, not marked, that had gone lost in the washingโ and at last the basket was empty!
๊ทธ๋ ๋ ๋ชจ๋ ์ข ๋ฅ, ์ฌ์ด์ฆ์ ์ท์ ๊ฑธ๊ธฐ ์์ํ์ต๋๋คโ์ฅ์ ์์ ๊ฐ์ ์ฝํธ๋ค, ๋งค๋๋ฌ์ด ๋๋์ง ๊ฐ์ฃฝ์ผ๋ก ๋ง๋ ๊ฒ์ ์กฐ๋ผ ํ ๋ฒ, ๋ค๋์ฅ ๋ํจ์ด ๋งก๊ธด ๊ผฌ๋ฆฌ๊ฐ ์๋ ๋ถ์ ์ฐ๋ฏธ๋ณต ํ ๋ฒ, ๊ทธ๋ฆฌ๊ณ ํผํฐ ๋๋น์ด ๋งก๊ธด ๋งค์ฐ ์ฌ๊ฐํ๊ฒ ์ค์ด๋ ํ๋ ์ฌํท ํ ๋ฒ, ๋นจ๋ ๋์ค ํ์์ ์์ด๋ฒ๋ฆฐ ์์น๋ง ํ ๋ฒโ ๋ฐ๊ตฌ๋๊ฐ ํ ๋น์ด์ ๋ฐ๋ฅ์ ๋ณด์ผ ๋๊น์ง!
Then Mrs. Tiggy-winkle made tea a cup for herself and a cup for Lucie.
๊ทธ๋ฌ๊ณ ๋ ํ, ํฐ๊ธฐ-์ํด ๋ถ์ธ์ ํ ์์ ์์ ์ ์ํด, ๋ค๋ฅธ ํ ์์ ๋ฃจ์๋ฅผ ์ํด ์ฐจ๋ฅผ ๋์์ต๋๋ค.
They sat before the fire on a bench and looked sideways at one another.
๊ทธ๋ค์ ๋ฒฝ๋๋ก ์์ ๋์ธ ์์์ ์์ ์๋ก๋ฅผ ๊ณ๋์งํ์ต๋๋ค.
Mrs. Tiggy-winkle's hand, holding the tea-cup, was very very brown, and very very wrinkly with the soap-suds; and all through her gown and her cap, there were hair-pins sticking wrong end out; so that Lucie didn't like to sit to.
์ปต์ ์ฅ ํฐ๊ธฐ-์ํด ๋ถ์ธ์ ์์ ๋งค์ฐ ๋งค์ฐ ๊ฐ์์ด์๊ณ , ์ฃผ๋ฆ ์ฌ์ด์ฌ์ด ๋น๋๋ฌผ์ด ๋ฌป์ด ์์์ด์. ๋ ๊ทธ๋ ์ ๋จธ๋ฆฌํ๋ค์ ๊ฐ์ด๊ณผ ๋ชจ์๋ฅผ ๋ซ๊ณ ์๋ฌด๋ ๊ฒ๋ ๋พฐ์กฑ๋พฐ์กฑ ํ์ด๋์ ์์์ด์. ๊ทธ๋์ ๋ฃจ์๋ ํธํ๊ฒ ์์ ์ ์์์ด์.
When they had finished tea, they tied up the clothes in bundles; and Lucie's pocket-handkerchiefs were folded up inside her clean pinny, and fastened with a silver safety-pin.
๊ทธ๋ค์ ์ฐจ๋ฅผ ๋ค ๋ง์ ํ, ์ท๋ค๋ฐ์ ๋ฌถ์์ต๋๋ค. ๋ฃจ์์ ์์๊ฑด๋ค์ ์ ์ด์ ๊นจ๋ํด์ง ์์น๋ง์ ๋ฃ์์ด์. ๊ทธ๋ฆฌ๊ณ ์์ ์ทํ๋ค๋ก ๊ณ ์ ํ์ต๋๋ค.
And then they made up the fire with turf, and came out and locked the door, and hid the key under the door-sill.
๋ฒฝ๋๋ก์ ๋๊ฐ์ ๋ฃ์ด์ ๋ถ์ ์งํผ๊ณ , ๋ฌธ์ ์ ๊ทธ๊ณ ๋์จ ๋ค ์ด์ ๋ ๋ฌธํฑ ์๋ ์จ๊ฒจ๋์์ต๋๋ค.
Then away down the hill trotted Lucie and Mrs. Tiggy-winkle with the bundles of clothes!
๋ฃจ์์ ํฐ๊ธฐ-์ํด ๋ถ์ธ์ ์ท๊พธ๋ฌ๋ฏธ๋ฅผ ์ฑ๊ฒจ ๋น ๋ฅด๊ฒ ์ธ๋์ ๋ด๋ ค์์ต๋๋ค.
All the way down the path little animals came out of the fern to meet them; the very first that they met were Peter Rabbit and Benjamin Bunny!
์ค์๊ธธ์ ๋ด๋ ค๊ฐ๋ ๋์, ๊ทธ๋ค์ ๋ง๋๋ ค๊ณ ๊ณ ์ฌ๋ฆฌ ์ํ์ ํค์น๊ณ ๋์จ ์์ ๋๋ฌผ๋ค์ ๋ง์ฃผ์ณค์ต๋๋ค. ์ ์ผ ์ฒ์ ๋ง๋ ๊ฑด ํผํฐ ๋๋น๊ณผ ๋ฒค์๋ฏผ ๋ฒ๋์์ด์!
And she gave them their nice clean clothes; and all the little animals and birds were so very much obliged to dear Mrs. Tiggy-winkle.
๊ทธ๋ฆฌ๊ณ ๊ทธ๋
๋ ์์ฃผ ๊นจ๋ํด์ง ์ท๋ค์ ์ฃผ์์ต๋๋ค. ๋ชจ๋ ์์ ๋๋ฌผ๋ค๊ณผ ์๋ค์ ์น์ ํ ํฐ๊ธฐ-์ํด ๋ถ์ธ์๊ฒ ๋งค์ฐ
๊ณ ๋ง์ ํ์ด์.
So that at the bottom of the hill when they came to the stile, there was nothing left to carry except Lucie's one little bundle.
๋ ์ฌ๋์ด ์ธ๋์ ๋ค ๋ด๋ ค์ ์ธํ๋ฆฌ์ ๋์ฐฉํ์ ๋, ๋ฃจ์์ ์์ ๊พธ๋ฌ๋ฏธ ๋ง๊ณ ๋ ์๋ฌด๊ฒ๋ ๋จ์ ์์ง ์์์ด์.
Lucie scrambled up the stile with the bundle in her hand; and then she turned to say "Good-night." and to thank the washer-womanโ But what a very odd thing! Mrs. Tiggy-winkle had not waited either for thanks or for the washing bill!
๋ฃจ์๋ ์ท๊พธ๋ฌ๋ฏธ๋ฅผ ๋ค๊ณ ์ธํ๋ฆฌ๋ฅผ ๋์์ด์. ๊ทธ๋ฆฌ๊ณ ๋์์์ "์๋ ํ ์ฃผ๋ฌด์ธ์." ์์ ๊ณต์๊ฒ ์ ๋ ์ธ์ฌ์ ๊ฐ์ฌ ์ธ์ฌ๋ฅผ ์ ํ์ด์. ํ์ง๋ง ์ด์ํ ์ผ์ด์์! ํฐ๊ธฐ-์ํด ๋ถ์ธ์ ๊ฐ์ฌ ์ธ์ฌ๋, ์ธํ๋น๋ ๊ธฐ๋ค๋ฆฌ์ง ์์์ด์!
She was running running running up the hillโ and where was her white frilled cap? and her shawl and her gownโ and her petticoat?
๊ทธ๋
๋ ์ธ๋์ ๋ฌ๋ฆฌ๊ณ , ๋ฌ๋ฆฌ๊ณ , ๋ฌ๋ ค ์ฌ๋ผ๊ฐ์ด์. ๊ทธ๋ฐ๋ฐ ๊ทธ๋
์ ํ์ ํ๋ฆด ๋ชจ์๋, ์์, ๊ฐ์ด์, ๊ทธ๋ฆฌ๊ณ ์์น๋ง๋
์ด๋๋ก ๊ฐ๋์?
And how small she had grownโ and how brownโ and covered with PRICKLES!
๊ทธ๋ ๋ ์์์ง๋๋โ ๊ฐ์์ด ๋๊ณ โ ๋ ๋พฐ์กฑํ ๊ฐ์๋ก ๋ค๋ฎ์์ด์!
Why! Mrs. Tiggy-winkle was nothing but a HEDGEHOG.
์๋๋ฉด! ํฐ๊ธฐ-์ํด ๋ถ์ธ์ ๊ทธ ๋ฌด์๋ ์๋, ๋ฐ๋ก ๊ณ ์ด๋์น์๊ฑฐ๋ ์.
(Now some people say that little Lucie had been asleep upon the stileโ but then how could she have found three clean pocket-handkins and a pinny, pinned with a silver safety-pin?
์ง๊ธ, ์ด๋ค ์ฌ๋์ ์๋
๋ฃจ์๊ฐ ์ธํ๋ฆฌ ์๋์์ ์กธ์๋ค๊ณ ๋งํ๊ณค ํฉ๋๋ค. ํ์ง๋ง ๊ทธ๋ ๋ค๋ฉด ๊ทธ๋
๊ฐ ์ด๋ป๊ฒ ๊นจ๋ํด์ง
์์๊ฑด ์ธ ๊ฐ์ ์์น๋ง, ๊ทธ๊ฒ๋ค์ ๊ฝํ ์์ ์ทํ์ ์ฐพ์๊ฒ ์ด์?
And besidesโ I have seen that door into the back of the hill called Cat Bellsโ and besides I am very well acquainted with dear Mrs. Tiggy-winkle!)
๊ฒ๋ค๊ฐ ๋๋ ์บฃ ๋ฒจ์ค๋ผ๊ณ ๋ถ๋ฆฌ๋ ์ธ๋ ๋คํธ์ผ๋ก ๋ ๋ฌธ์ ๋ณด์์ด์. ๊ทธ๋ฟ ์๋๋ผ, ๋๋ ์น์ ํ ํฐ๊ธฐ-์ํด ๋ถ์ธ์ ์์ฃผ ์ ์๊ณ ์๋ต๋๋ค!