The two Moles settled that part of the business pretty quickly. There was some dispute as to which way up Uncle Andrew ought to be put into the hole， and he had a very narrow escape from being put in head foremost. Several animals said his legs must be his branches and therefore the grey， fluffy thing （they meant his head） must be his root. But then others said that the forked end of him was the muddier and that it spread out more， as roots ought to do. So finally he was planted right way up. When they had patted down the earth it came up above his knees.
“It looks dreadfully withered，” said the Donkey.
“Of course it wants some watering，” said the Elephant. “I think I might say （meaning no offence to anyone present） that， perhaps， for that sort of work， my kind of nose.”