He’s as cute as ickle pickle, and probably just as tasty.
Mr. Small is, unsurprisingly, the smallest of the Mr. Men. He lives in a house underneath a daisy, at the bottom of Mr. Robinson’s garden. His tiny size is an occupational hazard, as he soon finds out when he falls into sweet jars, mustard pots and match boxes. But he finds eternal happiness and fame when a man decides to write a book all about his adventures.
Hurrah for Mr. Small and all his smallness!
Mr Impossibel is reading this backwards, upside down, hanging from the light shade whilst juggling with eggs.
And he even realised that I'd spelt his name wrong. That's impossible! hahah