There once were four quimbles in a box, Quilliam, Quilice, Quint, and the unstoppable Quenelope, each wearing a tall, pointed hat, and each not bigger than your little finger. The box dropped out of a bag that dropped out of a car, where the road from Glumsea Sands to Nutward-in-the-Thicket winds through the forest."" And so the quimbles (who look sort of like gnome-hatted sleepy-dolls) must fend for themselves, finding shelter from the rain and eventually building their own little house, high in a tree to escape the coming snowdrifts. They are advised and befriended by a mouse (like a great bear from their perspective), they make one mistake (endangering the woodland creatures with a carelessly tended fire), but they end up ready for winter thanks to their own sturdy enterprise. The spotlight is on the miniature housekeeping and house-building details, for their own sake and as evidence of the dear little people's spunky resourcefulness. There will be two more quimble stories for those who favor such precious reinforcement. A pale copy of an older, British model, the tiny trilogy might be right in tune with current wistful trends.