1

2
3
 (Mr. Pink-whistle is a funny little man with pointed ears, half a brownie
and half human. He can make himself invisible if he wants to. He goes about the
world putting wrong things right.}

A NNABELLE had five hens. Granpa had given them to her on her last
birthday, when they were quite small. Now they were big, and just beginning to
lay.
Annabelle was delighted. " Mummy, you shall have an egg for your
breakfast every day !" she said. " And so shall Daddy. And I will take two round
to Granny and Granpa every day, and there will be one egg for my breakfast,
too. You will lay me five eggs, won't you, little red hens ? "
The five hens looked at Annabelle and clucked. They liked this little girl
who fed them each day, gave them fresh water, and cleaned out their house three
times a week. They liked the way she talked to them, too. So they all clucked
back, and Annabelle knew quite well what they said.
" They say they will certainly lay me five eggs every day," she told her
mother.
They did. Each morning when Annabelle went to look in the nesting-
boxes there were five smooth brown eggs. Not very big ones, because the hens
were very young, but, oh, how delicious they tasted !
Daddy and Mummy had one each day. So did Annabelle. She took two
round to Granny and Granpa, always the biggest two, because it was Granpa
who had given her the little red hens.
And then one morning when Annabelle went to look for the eggs there
was not a single one! All the nesting-boxes were empty. What a shock for
Annabelle. She stared at the empty boxes and then at the hens.
" Why haven't you laid me any eggs ? " she said.

4
 Mr. Pink-whistle and the Eggs

The hens clucked loudly. " Cuck-cuck-cuck, we did, we did ! " they said.
" You didn't," said Annabelle. " There aren't any at all. Please lay me
some to-morrow."
But there weren't any the next day either. Annabelle couldn't understand
it. " Perhaps someone is taking them," she thought. " Oh, dear, what a horrid
thing to do."
The next day there were no eggs again. Annabelle cried bitterly. " It's a
shame ! " she said to the hens. " I am sure somebody is stealing your eggs. It's a
shame ! You are my own hens, and you lay beautiful eggs that are mine—and
now somebody else is taking them."
A big black cat with green eyes was wandering by, not far from the hen-
house. It stopped when it heard Annabelle crying, and listened to what she said.
Then it ran off quickly to its master. The cat was Sooty, Mr. Pink-
whistle's own cat. It mewed for its master, and Mr. Pink-whistle came hurrying
from the kitchen, where he was busy cleaning out his larder.
"A job for you to do, Master!" mewed Sooty. "You leave the larder to me.
I'll clean it all right! I've found a better job for you to do than that."
" What is it ? " asked Mr. Pink-whistle. " Is it something I can put right ? I
haven't done a job like that for some time."
" Yes, you can put it right, I expect," said Sooty, and told Mr. Pink-
whistle what had happened to Annabelle. " She's such a dear little girl," said
Sooty. " And somebody is really being very unkind, Master, to steal all her
eggs."
" I'll soon put that right!" said Mr. Pink-whistle, briskly. " Where does she
live ? Oh, not very far away. That's good."
Now, the next morning, just as it was beginning to get light, Mr. Pink-
whistle went out. He made his way to Annabelle's house. Just as he turned in at
her front gate he made himself invisible. Hey, presto ! One moment he was
there, and the next he was not. At least, he was, but nobody could see him.
He went down the garden to the hen-house. Scamp, the dog, heard him
and smelt him, but couldn't see him. He growled a little in fright but didn't bark.
Mr. Pink-whistle went right to the bottom of the garden, where a tall
hedge stood. Just beside it was the hen-house. Mr. Pink-whistle had a look
round. Nobody about just yet. He opened the hen-house door and felt in the
nesting-boxes. Four eggs already—and a hen sitting in the fifth box !
He went out and shut the door softly. Then he stood on the path and

5
 Sunny Stories

waited in the dim light. He felt

certain that the thief would soon be
coming along, whoever he was.
Then, very softly and silently,
so that even Scamp's sharp ears heard
no sound, somebody came through a
gap in the hedge. Pink-whistle
looked at him. Dear, dear—who ever
would have thought him to be the
thief?
" It's Mr. Smarmy," said Pink-
whistle to himself. " He goes to
church. He sings hymns very loudly
indeed. He always shakes his head
and looks shocked when he hears of
someone who has done wrong. And
all the time he is taking little
Annabelle's eggs ! "
Mr. Smarmy was well-dressed
and neat. Even coming through the
hedge had not made him untidy. He
tiptoed to the henhouse, opened the
door, and felt about for eggs. One, two, three, four, five. Good! He put them
carefully into his five pockets, and then went out. He backed through the hedge,
and pulled the branches together behind him. He was gone.
" So it's Mr. Smarmy," said Pink-whistle again. " I never did like him.
Always so down on other people. Always finding fault with his gentle little
wife. Always pretending to be so good and proper. Dear, dear—what a very
horrid fellow, to be sure. I never did like deceitful people. Now what's to be
done ? "
Pink-whistle went off to his own home. He went to his larder and looked
in the egg-rack. There were six eggs there. He took five of them. He went back
to the hen-house and popped them into the nesting-boxes. " Now Annabelle
won't be disappointed!" he said. " And to-morrow I'll play a nice little trick on
Mr. Smarmy."
The eggs were white ones, not brown. Annabelle was most astonished
when she found them that morning. " Look, Mummy!" she said.
" There are eggs this morning all right—but they are white, not brown.
Isn't that funny ? "
Now, that day Mr. Pink-whistle spent in a very queer way. He made

6
 Mr. Pink-whistle and the Eggs

five magic eggs, and how he chuckled as he made them. Sooty watched
him and chuckled too.
Early the next morning Mr. Pink-whistle went along to Annabelle's hen-
house again. There were five brown eggs there. He put them carefully into his
pocket, and then put five magic eggs into the nesting-' boxes instead. Then, quite
invisible, he waited for Mr. Smarmy to come along. The thief came silently
through the hedge. He went into the hen-house and put the eggs carefully into
his five pockets. Then he went out again.
Mr. Pink-whistle chuckled once more. He waited till Mr. Smarmy had
gone, then he popped back into the hen-house and put the brown eggs from his
pocket into the nesting-boxes. Annabelle would find them there, quite safely.
Then he went home to breakfast. Sooty had got it ready for him. The big
black cat laughed when he heard what his master had done.
" One of the magic eggs will go POP very loudly indeed," said Mr. Pink-
whistle. " One will burst and make a very horrible smell. One will mew like a
cat. One will cluck like a hen, and the last one will grow tiny legs and run all
over Mr. Smarmy."
Sooty giggled, and when a cat giggles it sounds very funny indeed. " I
wish I was going to see all that," said
Sooty.
"Well, I'm going to!" said Mr.
Pink-whistle. " I want to see Mr.
Smarmy taught a lesson. It's quite time
he was ! "
Now, Mr. Smarmy, after he had
taken the eggs, went to his sister Lucy's
for breakfast. He didn't give her any of
the eggs. Oh, no ! He was going to take
those home, after he had done his work
that day, and ask his wife to make a
nice fat omelette for him.
" I've got a busy day, Lucy," he
said. " Got to see a lot of important
people. Mustn't be late at the office.
The first meeting is at half-past nine."
Mr. Smarmy arrived there at just
before half-past nine. But he

MR. PINK-WHISTLE TOLD SOOTY' WHAT

HE HAD DONE.
Sunny Stories

7
 couldn't take any of the eggs out of his pockets., because two of the men he
was going to meet had already arrived.
" Good morning ! " said Mr. Smarmy. " Nice and early ! Aha ! Here are the
others, too ! "
Soon seven men were sitting down round the table—and an eighth, who
could not be seen, was standing opposite Mr. Smarmy. That was Mr. Pink-whistle,
of course, who had made himself invisible, and was at the meeting unknown to
anyone.
The meeting began. Mr. Smarmy wanted to ask the six men round him to
lend him money for his business, so he was very polite indeed. Everyone listened to
him quietly—till the first egg went POP.
" POP !". It burst with a loud noise, rather like a paper bag when it is blown
up and goes bang. Everyone jumped and looked at Mr. Smarmy. He looked
alarmed. " What was that ? " he said.
" It sounded as if it came from somewhere about you," said one man. " Good
gracious, look! What's that mess trickling out of one of your pockets ? Looks like
egg ! "
It was egg, of course. Mr. Smarmy looked down in disgust at the yellow
mess that was seeping out of his pocket. How horrible ! That egg must have been
bad, to blow up like that!
He tried to wipe the mess away with his clean handkerchief. Then another
egg began its magic work. It mewed like a cat! " Mew-ew-ew-ew ! Mew-ew-ew-
ew! "
" There's a cat somewhere," said one of the men. ""Sounds as if vou've got it
on your knee, Mr. Smarmy.
" Mew - ew - ew - ew ! " Mr.
Smarmy jumped up in alarm, for the
noise came from somewhere about
him, there was no doubt of that. And
then the mewing egg went off with a
pop just as the other one had done !
Everyone jumped at the POP,
and stared at another yellow mess
coming from a pocket the other side
of Mr. Smarmy's coat. " Is this some
kind of a joke? " asked a man.
" No—no ! I assure you I can't
imagine what is happening ! " said
poor Mr. Smarmy, " Oh, dear— there
goes another one ! "
“I CAN’T IMAGINE WHAT IS POP ! " Another egg burst,
HAPPENING! SAID SMARMY;
Mr. Pink-whistle and the Eggs

8
 and this time there was such a terrible smell that everyone got out their
handkerchiefs at once. " Pooh," said one of the men. " Smarmy, do you often
carry bad eggs about ? I hope you are not a bad egg yourself! Pooh! What a
fearful smell."
Mr. Smarmy was most distressed. This meeting was not going at all well.
Blow those eggs ! He wished he hadn't taken them that morning. They must all
be bad ones. He heard a little chuckle close to his ear and turned in alarm.
It was Mr. Pink-whistle, but, of course, Mr. Smarmy couldn't see him.
Pink-whistle was having a lovely time. What a joke ! It was nice to see a horrid
person like Mr. Smarmy getting into trouble like this.
The meeting went on again, after Mr. Smarmy had tried to clean himself
up. And then the fourth egg began to cluck like a hen. It went off very loudly
indeed.
" Cuck-cuck-cuck-cuck-cuck ! Cuck-cuck-cuck-cuck-cuck! CUCK-
CUCK!"
" Good gracious ! He's got a hen in his pocket now ! " cried one of the
men. " Smarmy, what is the meaning of this ? Is this the way to get us to lend
money to you—to play idiotic tricks of this kind ? "
" Sir, I assure you-----" began poor Mr. Smarmy, clutching in alarm at
the egg that was clucking, but before he could finish it went POP, too !
And then there was another yellow mess to be cleared up!
" Do you always carry bad eggs about with you ? " asked one of the men.
" Have you any more ? If so, I advise you to remove them from your pockets,
Smarmy. We've had enough of eggs this morning."
Sunny Stories

9
 " There's one more," said poor Smarmy, putting his hand into a pocket. "
I'll take it out. Oh—it's running away from me ! Oh, it's gone down my trouser
leg ! Now it's running up again ! It's inside my vest. It's tickling me. It's got legs,
I'm sure!"
All the men stared at Mr. Smarmy in amazement. The egg had grown
legs, just as Pink-whistle had said it would, and was running about all over him.
He kept clutching at it, but it always slipped away somewhere else.
" He's mad," said one of the men, getting up. " Well, I didn't come here to
have egg-tricks played on me. I'm not putting any money into a business run by
a man who plays silly conjuring tricks with eggs that pop and mew and cluck
and grow legs. Not I! "
" Nor I! " cried all the others, and they got up to go. Mr. Smarmy stared at
them in dismay. " Please, please wait! " he cried. " This is the last egg. Do wait!
"
POP ! The last egg burst, too—and that was enough for the men. They
went out of the room, talking loudly about people who seemed to think it was
funny to play tricks with bad eggs. Mr. Smarmy was left alone, with a burst egg
trickling down his leg.
He groaned. Then he felt a tap on his shoulder. He looked up in surprise,
to see Mr. Pink-whistle looking sternly down at him. It made Mr. Smarmy jump
to see him there so suddenly.
" This is what happens to people who steal eggs from a little girl's hens,"
said Mr. Pink-whistle. " Bad things always come from bad deeds. None of those
men will lend you the money you want. It serves you right."
Mr. Smarmy groaned again and buried his face in his hands. " It does, I
know it does," he said. " I'm a deceitful fellow. I pretend to be so good—and yet
I am mean enough to take eggs belonging to a little girl's hens. I deserve all this.
I don't know who you are, or how you know about it, or why those eggs behaved
like that—I only know I'm ashamed and sorry."
" That's good," said Mr. Pink-whistle, pleased. " Very good. What about
buying a beautiful doll for the little girl, and putting it in the henhouse for her to
find to-morrow, to make up for the eggs you took, Mr. Smarmy ? And what
about trying to be as good and proper as you are always pretending to be ? If
you are really sorry, you can do that, too."
And then away went Mr. Pink-whistle to tell Sooty all that had happened.
But you may be sure he will be hiding, unseen, in the hen-house on the morning
when there is a beautiful new doll waiting for Annabelle. She will be so
surprised and pleased—and dear old Pink-whistle wants to see her happy face.
He really is a kind old thing, isn't he ?

10
 ‘I SHALL stamp on your engine, if you don't stop upsetting my dolls'
cups of tea ! " said Joan, crossly.
" You just dare! " said Keith. " Anyway, I wouldn't keep moving your silly
cups of tea if you didn't keep having your dolls' party just where I want to put my
lines ! You're doing it on purpose."
" I'm nor! " said Joan.
" You are," said Keith. " You're a nasty, horrid girl. If you were a boy I'd hit
you."
" Pooh ! " said Joan. " You wouldn't dare to if I was a boy ! I'd hit you back,
and down you'd go, plop! I'm stronger than you are. You're a baby."
Keith went red. He fixed some lines together angrily, and then put them
down roughly just where Joan was having her dolls' tea-party. Over went all the
cups again, spilling out the water she had filled them with. And over went the milk-
jug and teapot, too.
Joan leapt up angrily. She went over to where his clockwork engine stood,
and, oh dear—she stamped on it! Yes, stamped so hard that it

“
OH, YOU WICKED GIRL !” CRIED KEITH.

11
 Sunny Stories

was broken. The funnel fell off, the wheels broke, and the whole engine
was spoilt.
Keith sprang up in a rage. " Oh, you wicked girl to do that to my best
engine ! See what /'// do then ! "
And, to Joan's horror, he stamped on her dolls' teapot, and it broke into
dozens of little pieces.
Then both children burst into howls, and Mother came running in to see
whatever the matter was. With sobs and howls they told her.
" I see," she said gravely. " You were playing Tit for Tat—you be horrid
to me and I'll be horrid to you ! You smash something of mine and I'll smash
something of yours! Now go to your rooms, both of you."
They went, crying loudly. Mother went to speak to Keith. " What a pity to
smash Joan's beautiful teapot," she said. " Yes, I know she stamped on your
train. But you know how much she loved her tea-set —and now she can't play
with it any more, because she can't pour out cups of tea."
Then Mother went to Joan. " How could you stamp on something that
Keith loved so much ? " she said. " Oh, I know he broke your teapot— but just
think how proud he was of his first clockwork train, and how he saved up for it,
and how he has shared it with you so generously. Don't think of your teapot—
think of Keith's engine."
After a while Joan's anger died down, and she did as A*o:her said. She
thought of Keith's poor, broken engine. He had been so proud of it. It had taken
him five months and three days to save up for it. Now it was broken.
And Keith began to think of Joan's teapot. She did so love having parties
and pouring out the tea with that teapot. It poured exactly like a real big teapot
did. And whenever Mother let Joan have lemonade to pour out, Joan always
poured a cup for him, too. He wished he hadn't broken it. This Tit for Tat
business was horrid.
Then an idea came into Keith's mind. He went into the nursery and picked
up all his carriages and trucks. He went out with them. He knew that Billy, his
cousin, hadn't nearly enough trucks. Perhaps he would like to buy his from him.
They weren't any good now, without an engine to pull them. When he had the
money he would go and buy Joan a new teapot!
And after a while an idea came into Joan's head, too. Her tea-set wasn't
any use now, because it had no teapot. She knew Katie wanted more cups and
saucers with her tea-set, because she had broken so many. If she would buy
them from Joan, then Joan could go to the toyshop and buy Keith a new engine !
So she went into the nursery and packed up the rest of her tea-set, jug and
all. Then off she went to Katie's. .-.-

12
 Tit for Tat

" WHAT ARE THESE PARCELS ? " ASKED MOTHER.

At tea-time there was a parcel on Keith's plate and one on Joan's. Mother
looked surprised. " What are these ? " she said.
Keith undid his and found a new clockwork engine—and Joan undid hers
and found a new teapot. They stared in surprise. Mother at once knew what had
happened.
" Why, it's another kind of Tit for Tat." she cried. " But a much nicer one.
Keith has sold his trucks to buy you a teapot, Joan—and Joan has sold her cups and
saucers to buy you an engine, Keith ! "
" Oh, thank you, Keith!" said Joan, " but, oh, dear, now I haven't any cups to
use with the teapot! "
" Thank you, Joan," said Keith, " and / haven't any trucks for my engine to
pull! "
Then everybody laughed. " I don't think we'll play at Tit for Tat any more,"
said. Joan. " It doesn't work out right. But you are nice to think of buying me a new
teapot, Keith ! "
" Well, maybe if you don't play Tit for Tat any more, I'll buy you new trucks
and new cups and saucers," said Moiher. " Deat me, what silly children you are—
but you're nice ones, too ! "
So they were ! Don't you think so ?

13
 BUMPY AND HIS BUS

69. It was fun to be in Wishing-Land. " I wish for a bag of chocolate

peppermints ! " said Anne. And there they were in her hand.

70. " I wish for a little white pony," said Michael—and behind him he suddenly
heard the trotting of feet. His pony!

14
 Their Wishes Come True!

71. " I wish for a pair of wings that will fly/' said Biddy. And, hey presto,
there was a pair on her shoulders!

72. Up went Biddy into the air, shouting with delight. " I'm flying, look, I'm
flying ! " (To be continued.')

15
 (Fenella has come to live with her Uncle Ursie and Aunt Lou in Mr. Carl
Crack's circus. She is getting to know all the circus folk and the animals. She
lives in a red caravan with her uncle and aunt. She is excited because the circus
is giving a show that night, and as she has never been to a circus in her life
Fenella is looking forward to it.}

CHAPTER VII
GETTING READY FOR THE SHOW

E VERYONE was busy and excited that day. Even the animals seemed to
know that the circus was giving a grand show that evening. The elephants
trumpeted dozens of times, the horses whinnied and neighed, the dogs barked,
Cackles hissed and cackled, the bears grunted and the monkeys chattered in little
high voices. As for the chimpanzees, they were quite mad, and Mr. Holla had
to speak to them very sternly indeed.
" What have they done ? " asked Fenella, seeing Grin and Bearit putting
their hands over their faces like children who have been scolded.
" Grin found a bucket of water and threw it all over Bearit," said Mr
Holla. " Soaked him through. Then Bearit got the empty bucket and tried to put
it on Grin's head. And all the time Aggie was looking for her bucket of water.
She was cross. So was I, when I saw Bearit's clothes dripping wet! "

16
 Fenella laughed. The chimps took a look at her through their fingers, for
their hands still covered their faces. Then Grin made a chattering noise and took
her hand. She didn't mind at all.
" He likes you," said Mr. Holla. " He wants you to go for a little walk with
him. I saw you with Bobbo in your arms this morning. Do you like him ? "
" Oh, he's a darling," said Fenella. " And I like Clump, too—he's so fat
and clumsy."
" Chimps are much better than bears," said Mr. Holla, half jealously. "
Got more brains in their feet than bears have in their big heads. You watch what
Grin and Bearit do in the ring to-night! You'll be surprised.''
Fenella watched everything and everyone that day, rather shy, but very
thrilled to be part of the camp. She kept out of Mr. Crack's way. Indeed,
everyone did if they possibly could, for he was strung up to such a pitch of
excitement that he almost lost his voice through shouting orders all over the
field. His whip cracked, his top hat flew off twice in the wind and he stamped
about in his enormous Boots like a giant!
" Don't you be afraid of him," said Uncle Ursie, when he saw Fenella skip
out of the way and hide under a caravan when Mr. Crack came roaring by. "
He's always like this on show-days. Can't help it. He'll be all right afterwards."
Aunt Lou was now doing a few last-minute jobs that had turned up
unexpectedly—a button to sew on to Malvina's beautiful costume, a tear to
mend in Mr. Groggy's clown dress, a black bobble to put on Micko's hat. Fenella
offered to help, but her aunt shook her head.
" No," she said, her needle flying in and out. " I can do these few things.
You go and watch the circus getting ready. Look at the gate over there—the
people are already lining up to get in. They know that Mr. Carl Crack's circus is
a fine one to see ! "
" It's the best in the world ! " said Fenella, making up her mind that it
really must be. She watched the circus folk parading about, looking suddenly
very different now that they had got on their beautiful, gay circus clothes. How
grand they looked—and how very lovely Malvina was. She was one of the trick-
riders, and when she came by Fenella looked in wonder at the glittering stars in
her hair and the smaller ones sewn on to her lovely dress.
The clowns were all dressed up now, too. Mr. Groggy looked extremely
funny, for he had put on a false nose that was longer and bigger than even Uncle
Ursie's. He had put big white rings all round his eyes and painted his mouth red,
making it most enormous. He carried his bunch of big balloons, and also his
peculiar chair.
The other clowns were ready, too, and Mr. Wriggle, the acrobat, was in a
tight-fitting suit of shining gold. He saw Fenella and winked at her.

17
 Sunny Stories

" I wish you'd watch me tread on my

head," he said, in a pleading voice. " Look,
I" just do this— and . . ."
To Fenella's alarm, he twisted
himself over backwards and his head
appeared under his left arm. She stared in
horror.
" No, don't tread on your head. Don't
do anything like that, Mr. Wriggle. I don't
like it."
" Well, well, well! How do you like
this, then ? " cried Mr. Wriggle in a gay
voice, and threw himself over on to his
hands. He walked on them very fast indeed,
his legs waving in the air.
" Oh, that's very clever," said
Fenella. "I'd like to do that! Oh, here's
Willie—and Cackles. Willie, you look fine
! And, oh, doesn't Cackles look sweet ? "
The goose looked like Mother Goose
in the nursery rhyme books. She had on a
dear little bonnet with a feather in it, and
wore a red shawl. Under her wing she
carried a shopping-basket. She cackled as if
she was very pleased with herself. Indeed,
she was, because there was nothing she
enjoyed better than dressing up with Willie
and waddling after him in the ring.
Willie looked very grand indeed. He
had on a shining white suit, with a cloak
edged with bright red. His round white hat
had a red feather in it, very long and wavy.
He looked quite a different boy.
" You look like a prince," said
Fenella, admiringly. " Oh, Cackles, how do
you carry your basket so nicely ? "

WILLIE AND CACKLES LOOKED VERY

GRAND INDEED.

18
 Getting Ready for the Show

" I clip it to her wing. Look, there's the clip," said Willie, showing Fenella
a big white clip that fastened the basket under Cackles's wing. " I say, here's
your uncle. He wants you for something."
Fenella hardly knew her uncle at first when she saw him. He, too, had put
on his grand circus clothes and looked quite different. He wore Russian dress,
with big top-boots, a red coat with a belt, red breeches tucked into his boots and
a tall, round, black fur cap. His big nose seemed to suit him now. He smiled at
Fenella.
" Well, how do you like us when we're properly dressed ? Hold Bobbo for
me for a minute, will you ? He's getting so excited that he won't be able to do a
thing when he gets into the ring."
Fenella held her arms out gladly for the little bear, who was whimpering
with excitement. He sensed all the preparations and felt all the eagerness of the
hurrying circus folk, and it was too much for his baby mind. He cuddled against
Fenella gladly.
" You're a darling," she said. " Don't shiver so, Bobbo; it's very warm to-
night."
" He's shivering with excitement, not cold," said Willie. " Some of the
dogs get like that. They love all the
thrill of the show. Bouncer gets so
excited sometimes that he shivers
from head to foot. But he's quite all
right as soon as he gets into the ring."
Mrs. Connie passed by with her
monkeys, and Fenella didn't know her
! No wonder, for she had left off her
old .draggled skirt and shawl and had
dressed herself in a frilly skirt, short
to her knees, and a gay little blue coat.
She wore a bright golden wig, and
was talking gaily to her little troupe of
monkeys. Each of them was in his or
her circus dress and looked very smart
indeed.
" Is that really Mrs. Connie ? "
said Fenella, in amazement. " But she
looks young now! And she looked
awfully old before."
" Doesn't matter what you look
like in the daytime, in the camp," .
BOBBO CUDDLED UP TO FENELLA

19
 Sunny Stories

said Uncle Ursie, " but at night, when the show is on, we must all be
young and gay and strong. Look at the people pouring in now. We shall take a
lot of money to-night. Mr. Crack will be pleased to-morrow."
" Where shall I sit ? " asked Fenella. " In the front row of the seats ? Oh, I
do hope I can, then I shall see everything."
" In the seats \ Don't be so silly," said Willie. " Fancy one of us in a seat \
You'll be behind the curtains with us of course, Fenny. You'll see us all go in, in
our turn. You belong to the circus now, you know."
A' bell rang. All the circus folk still outside the big top hurried towards it.
It was almost time for the show to begin. Hundreds of people were now in the
great tent, waiting eagerly. The smell of animals rose on the air, and Fenella
wrinkled up her nose. She would soon get used to that smell, and not even notice
it. The town children, waiting impatiently on the benches in the big tent, smelt it
too, and began to clap loudly, for they wanted the show to begin.
Fenella went behind the g^eat red curtains that hung at one end of the
tent, through which the performers appeared to do their turns. In the space
beyond the curtains were the circus folk, the horses and other animals, all
getting into order and waiting impatiently for Mr. Crack to give the signal.
" We all parade round first," Willie told her. " Fric, Frac and Malvina go
with a string of houses, and then Mr. Crack, in his golden carriage, drawn by
Malviria's own six snow-white ponies. Then all of us, one after another."
Mr. Crack's voice rose above the noise. " Fric ! Lead the parade."
And then, with a great blare of trumpets, Mr. Carl Crack's Stupendous
Circus began. The big red curtains were swung aside, and through them cantered
some of the magnificent circus horses, shining like satin, their proud heads
tossing great plumes as they went.
Fric and Frac were dressed as Red Indians with great feathered head-
dresses. Their faces were painted in brilliant colours, and they looked very grand
and rather frightening. The children in the audience clapped and shouted wildly
when they saw them. They thought they were real Red Indians. Fric and Frac
gave some blood-curdling yells as they rode round, guiding the string of horses.
Then came the six snow-white ponies, the foremost one ridden by the
beautiful Malvina. They drew a glittering coach in which sat a most resplendent
Mr. Crack, bowing this way and that as everyone cheered him.
His carriage stopped. He got out, a big glittering figure, his whip in his
hand. He took off his grey top hat and bowed. He called out in a tremendous
voice :

20
 Getting Ready for the Show

' ON WITH THE SHOW ! " CRIED MR. CARL CRACK.

" Ladies and gentlemen—welcome to Mr. Carl Crack's Grand Circus. On

with the show \ "
And then, tumbling over and over came the clowns and Mr. Wriggle, the
acrobat, Mrs. Connie and her monkeys, Mr. Holla and his two chimpanzees,
looking very fine in circus clothes, Mr. Tiny and the three elephants, Uncle
Ursie and the bears, Willie and Cackles—the whole string of circus performers,
dressed in their finest clothes, bowing and smiling, yelling delightedly at all the
shouts and claps and stamps of applause.
Yes, the circus had begun—and to a little girl peering through the
curtains, her heart beating fast, it was the most exciting moment of her life.
Yesterday she had been a small girl all alone—now she was one of this big
circus family. She belonged to them all and they belonged to her. What fun,
thought Fenella, oh, what fun!
(Next time—Fenella Sees the Circus.)

21
 THERE was once a toy duck who couldn't quack. But he could cluck! "
Cluck-luck-luck-luck-luck! " he would say, and all the toys would laugh at him.
" You sound like a hen ! Why don't you quack? Who ever heard of a clucking
duck ? "
The duck didn't like being laughed at. He tried his hardest to quack, but it was
no good, he couldn't. He practised for hours each night till the other toys got really
cross with him. But all he managed to do was to cluck even more loudly than before.
" Do stop your clucking," said the biggest doll, crossly. " It's really driving me
mad ! You'll have to leave this toy cupboard if you don't do one of two things."
" What are they ? " said the toy duck mournfully. " Well, you should either turn
yourself into a hen and keep your cluck—or you should stay a duck and find a quack
somewhere," said the big doll. " One thing or the other. I don't care which. But if you
are going to be a clucking duck, then please get out of our toy cupboard."
The duck was upset. How could he help it if he hadn't a quack ?
Hadn't he practised and practised ? He went into a corner and moped.
Two little imps came up from the mouse-hole. They often came to the nursery
to do errands for the toys. When they heard about the duck moping by himself they
went to find him. " Duck ! If we can get you a quack, or turn you into a hen, will you
give us the ribbon off your neck ? " said the first imp.
" It's such a lovely colour," said the second imp. " It would make beautiful
scarves for us."
" Oh, yes! You can have my ribbon with pleasure ! " said the duck, cheering up,
" if only you'll turn me into a hen to match my cluck—or find me a quack. I do feel so
silly, clucking hard when I'm a duck."
" Right," said the imps and went off. But as they went down the mouse-hole'
they began to quarrel.
" I think I shall make my bit of ribbon into a sash for my new suit,

22
 The Duck Who Clucked

not a scarf," said one imp.

" Indeed you won't. A sash
needs more stuff than a scarf— and if
you think I'm going to let you have
more than your share of the ribbon,
you're mistaken!" said the second
imp.
" I shall do what I like," said
the first, " in fact, if you're going to
be horrid I shall find a quack by
myself, give it to the duck, and take
the whole of his ribbon, so there !"
Then they quarreled so hard
that they wouldn't go home together
and they parted. The first one went
off to find a quack, and so did the
second.
Now the first imp soon got a
quack from an old witch who was
very clever at making noises. She
sold barks, mews, clucks, quacks,
roars, bellows and moos, and when
she was making these spells, her
cottage was a very noisy place
indeed.
She gave the quack to the first
imp, in a little yellow bottle. " Tell
him to swallow it down," she said, "
Then he will have a wonderfully loud
quack."
The second imp couldn't get a
quack anywhere, but he heard of an
enchanter who could turn cats into
dogs, cows into horses, and frogs into
toads. So he wondered if he could
turn ducks into hens.
" Easy ! " said the enchanter. "
Do you want a spell for that ? Well,
here it is. Tell the duck to swallow it
carefully, and see what happens!"
Now, the next night the two

23
 The two imps began to quarrel

WHO ARE YOU ? " ASKED THE GOLLIWOG.

imps, carrying their new spells very carefully indeed, went to find the
duck. He was asleep at the back of the toy cupboard. The imp; scowled at one
another when they met.
" I've got the spell!" said the first. " / shall take the ribbon."
" No—I've got the spell," said the second. " The ribbon is mine."
The duck had no ribbon on at all. He had taken it off, folded it up
carefully and put it into a box, ready to give to the imps if they helped him.
They had to wake him up. " Here's the spell! " cried hi first imp. " Drink
it, duck ! Where's the ribbon ? Give it to me—all of it."
" No, no—you drink my spell! " cried the second imp. " / want the
ribbon."
" Don't squabble," said the duck, sleepily. " I'll drink both spells —and
you can each have half the ribbon. It's in that box over there."
The first imp darted at the box and rushed off with it. The second imp tore
after him. The duck looked after them in surprise. Then he drank what was in
both the little bottles.
He tried to quack, but he still clucked. '' I suppose the spell doesn't act
just, yet," he thought. " In the morning I shall wake up and have .such a nice
surprise."
And sure enough, in the morning, he found that he could quack beauti-
fully. He was simply delighted. He quacked so loudly that all the toys came to
hear him. They stared at him in silence.
" Who are you ? " said the golliwog, at last.

24
 " Don't be silly. I'm the duck—and I've got a quack at last," said {he duck,
crossly.

The Duck Who Clucked

" But you're not a duck. You're a hen with a quack !'.' said the bear. Then
he suddenly went off into a squeal of laughter. " Oh, I know what's happened !
Those two imps gave you two different spells—one to make you turn into a. hen
—and the other to make you quack—so instead of being a clucking duck, you
are now a quacking hen ! "
And all the toys laughed till they ached. But the poor duck-hen was very
sad indeed. He Was worse off than ever—and he had lost his ribbon too. Bother
those two imps!
The only thing that cheers him up is that the new quack is wearing out and
he thinks the cluck is coming back. So, after all, he may be a hen with a cluck.
Wasn't he unlucky!

25
26
27
 HALLO, CHILDREN !
I'm not really a pet, because nobody likes to cuddle somebody so prickly as
me. But all the same, I live at Green Hedges, and when Rufus and Bimbo are not
looking I go and drink their milk.
Rufus caught me one day and was angry. But I just curled up in a ball and
lay still, and he couldn't do anything to me at all.
Still, I was sorry that he was cross because I'd drunk his tea. So I found a few
tasty slugs and a beetle or two, and left them on his plate for him to eat. I thought
he'd be so pleased.
But he wasn't.
A nice little cuddle from
PRICKLES

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