“Hattifatteners," Hodgkins said. "Electrical sailing." "Hattifatteners," I whispered excitedly. "Traveling and traveling and never getting there..." "Thunderstorms charge them," Hodgkins said. "Sting like nettles." "And they live a wicked life," the Joxter informed. "A wicked life?" I repeated with interest. "How?" "I don't quite know," said the Joxter. "Trampling down people's gardens and drinking beer, and so on, I suppose." We sat there for a long time looking after the Hattifatteners sailing out toward the horizon. I felt a strange desire to join them on their voyage and share their wicked life. But I didn't say it.” MoominsHattifattenersMoominpappa Author:Tove Jansson