A gentle bedtime story to help you drift off tonight: Beatrix Potter's charming woodland tale The Tale of Squirrel Nutkin, read slowly and unhurried for sleep and insomnia relief. This is a new author joining the Books at Bedtime strand — also known as Coffee Break for the Soul — from the Calming Anxiety podcast, a series of classic story readings designed as a calming audiobook for restless nights.
Narrated softly by Martin Hewlett, clinical hypnotherapist and former paramedic, this reading follows a cheeky little red squirrel called Nutkin, his brother Twinkleberry, and their cousins as they sail on twig rafts to Owl Island each day, bringing offerings of mice, minnows, and honey to old Mr. Brown, the owl who owns the nut bushes. While the other squirrels ask politely, Nutkin can never resist a rude riddle instead — and by the sixth day, his impertinence very nearly costs him more than his manners. A whimsical, sing-song read full of old English riddles, ideal for falling asleep, insomnia, and quieting an anxious mind before bed.
First published in August 1903, Beatrix Potter's The Tale of Squirrel Nutkin is in the public domain worldwide (Potter died in 1943); this reading is Calming Anxiety's own narration of the classic public-domain text. Potter originally wrote the story as a picture letter for a real little girl named Norah Moore, and dedicated the finished book to her — "a story for Norah."
The story
Transcribed from the audio, so the odd word may be off. Tap any line while it plays to keep the words in step with Martin's voice.
Books at Bedtime by Calingn Anxiety, the tale of Squirrel Nutkin by Beatrix Potter, a story for Norah. This is a tale about a tale, a tale that belonged to a little Red Squirrel and his name was Nuckkin. He had a brother called Twinkleberry and a great many cousins. They lived in a wood at the edge of a lake.
In the middle of the lake there was an island covered with trees and nut pushes and amongst those trees stands a hollow oak tree, which is the house of an owl who is called Old Brown. One autumn when the nuts were ripe and the leaves on the hazel bushes were golden and green, Nuckkin and Twinkleberry and all the other little squirrels came out of the wood and down to the edge of the lake. They made little rats out of twigs and they paddled away over the water to our island to gather nuts. Each squirrel had a little sack and a large ore and spread out his tail for a sail.
They also took with them an offering of three fat mice as a present for Old Brown and put them down upon his doorstep. Then Twinkleberry and the other little squirrels each made a low bow and said politely, "Old Mr. Brown, will you favor us with permission to gather nuts upon your island?" Nuckkin was excessively impertinent in his manners. He bobbed up and down like a little red cherry, singing, "Riddle me, riddle me, rot top tote, a little wee man in a red red coat, a staff in his hand and a stone in his throat.
If you will tell me this riddle, I will give you a groat." Now this riddle is as old as the hill. Mr. Brown paid no attention whatsoever to Nuckkin. He shut his eyes, obstinately and went to sleep.
The squirrels filled their little sacks with nuts and sailed away home in the evening. But next morning they all came back again to our island and Twinkleberry and the others brought a fine fat mong and laid it down on the stone in front of old Brown's doorway and said, "Mr. Brown, will you favor us with your gracious permission to gather some more nuts?" But Nuckkin, who had no respect, began to dance up and down, tickling old Mr. Brown with a nettle and singing. "Mr. B, riddle me, re, hitty-pity within the wall, hitty-pity without the wall.
If you touch hitty-pity, hitty-pity will bite you." Mr. Brown woke up suddenly and carried the mull into his house. He shut the door in Nuckkin's face. Presently a little thread of blue smoke from a wood fire came up from the top of the tree, and Nuckkin peeped through the keyhole and sang, "A house full, a whole full, and you cannot gather above full."
The squirrel searched for nuts all over the island and filled their little sacks. But Nuckkin gathered oak happles, yellow and scarlet, and sat upon a beach stump playing marbles and watching the door of old Mr. Brown. On the third day, the squirrels got up very early and went fishing. They caught seven fat minnows as a present for old Brown.
They paddled over the lake and landed under a crooked chestnut tree on Owl Island. Twinkleberry and six other little squirrels each carried a fat minnow, but Nuckkin, who had no nice manners, brought no present at all. He ran in front singing. The man in the wilderness said to me, "How many strawberries grow in the sea?
I answered him as I thought good, as many red herrings as grow in the wood." But old Mr. Brown took no interest in riddles, not even when the answer was provided for him.
On the fourth day, the squirrels brought a present of six fat beetles, which were as good as plums in plum pudding for old Brown. Such beetle was wrapped up carefully in a dockleaf, fastened with a pine needle pin. But Nuckkin sang as rudely as ever. Old Mr. B, riddle meery, flower of England, fruit of Spain, met together in a shower of rain.
Put in a bag tied round with a string. If you tell me this riddle, I'll give you a ring, which was ridiculous of Nuckkin because he had not got any ring to give old Mr. Brown. The other squirrels hunted up and down the nut bushes, but Nuckkin gathered Robbins' pimp cushions off a briar bush and stuck them full of pine needle pins. On the fifth day, the squirrels brought a present of wild honey.
It was so sweet and sticky that they licked their fingers as they put it down upon the stone. They had stolen it out of a bumble bee's nest on the tippy top of the hill. But Nuckkin skipped up and down, singing, "Humma bum, buzz buzz, humma bum buzz." As I went over Tippel-Tine, I met a flock of bony swine, some yellow knack, some yellow backed.
They were there the very bonnier swine that air went over Tippel-Tine. Old Mr. Brown turned up his eyes and discussed at the impertinence of Nuckkin, but he ate the honey. The squirrels filled their little sacks with nuts, but Nuckkin sat upon a big flat rock and played nine pins with the crab apple and the green fur cones. On the sixth day, which was a Saturday, the squirrels came again for the last time. They brought a new laydeck in a little rush basket as a last parting present for Old Brown. But Nuckkin ran in front laughing and shouting, "Humpty dumpty lies in the back, with a white counter pane around his neck. Forty doctors and forty rites cannot put Humpty Dumpty to rites."
Now, Old Mr. Brown took an interest in eggs. He opened one eye and shut it again, but still he did not speak. Nuckkin became more and more impertinent. Old Mr. B, Old Mr. B, Hickamore Hickamore on the King's Kitchen door, all the King's horses, and all the King's men couldn't drive Hickamore Hickamore off the King's Kitchen door. Nuckkin danced up and down like a sunbeam, but still Old Brown said nothing could at all. Nuckkin began again. Arthur O'Bower has broken his band. He comes roaring up the land. The King of Scots with all his power cannot turn Arthur off the Bower.
Nuckkin made a whirlving noise to sound like the wind, and he took a running jump right onto the head of Old Brown. Then all at once there was a flutterment and a scufflement and a loud squeak. The other squirrel scattered away into the bushes. When they came back very cautiously peeping around the tree, there was Old Brown sitting on his doorstep quite still with his eyes closed as if nothing had happened. But Nuckkin was in his waistcoat pocket. This looks like the end of the story, but it isn't.
Old Brown carried Nuckkin into his house and held him up by the tail, intending to skin him. But Nuckkin pulled so very hard that his tail broken too, and he dashed up the staircase and escaped out the attic window. And to this day, if you meet Nuckkin up a tree and ask him a riddle, he will throw his sticks at you and stamp his feet and scold and shout.