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The market is busy.
“Oh no!” a woman says. “Where is my darling? Where is Timmy?”
“What does he look like?” the clerk says.
“He’s little,” the woman says. “Four years old. Light colouring. Dark eyes.”
“Don’t worry, we’ll find him” the clerk says.
They look under tables.
They look behind boxes.
They look up and down the aisles.
“He’s here! He’s here!” the woman says. “My baby. Oh Timmy!”
“Thank goodness!” the shopkeeper says.
“Woof!”
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