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Moominmamma had got up very early to pack their rucksacks, and was bustling to and fro with wooly stockings and packets of sandwiches, while down by the bridge Moominpappa was getting their raft in order.”Mamma, dar,” said Moomintroll, “we can’t possibly take all that with us. Everyone will laugh.””It’s cold in the Lonely Mountains,” said Moominmamma, stuffing in an umbrella and a frying pan. “Have you got a compass?””Yes,” answered Moomintroll, “but couldn’t you at least leave out the plates — we can easily eat off rhubarb leaves.
