Another Time Stories by Donald Bisset. P.1

Дата публикации: Aug 01, 2021 1:4:19 PM

Honk,

Honk!1

Once upon a time there was a goose, whose name was William, but his mother, Mother Goose, always called him Willie.

“Now, go for a waddle, Willie,” she would say, “and honk to the other geese.”

Willie was very fond of honking!

“Honk, honk! Honk, honk!” he went as he waddled along.

One day when he was going for a waddle, he met a cat. It was a lovely black cat with two white paws in front. Willie was pleased.

“Honk, honk!” he said to the cat. “Honk, honk!”

“Miaow!” said the cat.

Willie was surprised. “What does, ‘miaow!’ mean?” He thought that cats said, “Honk, honk!” just like geese.

He waddled a bit further and nibbled at the grass. It was a lovely day. The sun was shining and all the birds were singing.

“Honk, honk!” said Willie.

“Bow-wow!” 1 barked a dog that was trotting along the road.

“Neigh!”2 said the milkman’s horse. And ‘‘Gee up!”3 said the milkman.

Poor Willie couldn’t understand a thing.

Just then a farmer passed by. “Hallo, goose!” he said. “Honk, honk!” said Willie.

Then some children passed. And one little boy came up to him and said “Boo!”

Willie was upset. He felt quite down in the beak.4 “I know I’m a goose,” he thought. “But they needn’t say ‘Boo!’ to me like that.”

Presently he saw a goldfish swimming in a pond, but however loudly he honked 5 to it the goldfish just swam round and round and took no notice of him.®

He waddled a bit further and met some cows.

“Moo!” they said. “Moo-o-o! Moo-o!”

Then he met some hens.

“Cluck, cluck, cluck,”7 they said, “cluck, cluck, cluck!” And the cock said, “Cock-a-doodle-doo!”

“Oh, I wish someone would say ‘Honk, honk!’ to me,” thought Willie.. “I feel so lonely!”

“Bz-z-z-z!” said a bee who was passing.

Some pigeons cooed and ducks quacked and the crows in the tree tops cawed. But no one at all, no one said “Honk, honk!” to him,

Poor Willie began to cry and tears ran down his beak and fell with a splash at his pretty pink feet.

“Monk, honk!” sobbed Willie.

Then, from a long way away he heard;

“Honk, honk! Honk, honk! Honk, honk!”

What a beautiful sound!

He looked up and there, coming down the road, was a little blue motor-car.

“Honk, honk!” it went. “Honk, honk!”

“Honk, honk!” said Willie. “Honk, honk!”

“Honk, honk!” went the car as it passed.

Willie gazed after it.

He was a happy goose.

“Honk, honk!” went the car disappearing round the corner.

“Honk, honk!” said Willie.

The Wind and the Cows

Once upon a time there were some cows under a shady tree in a field. They were eating grass and clover, and the soft South Wind blew gently across their field and kept them nice and warm,1

“What a nice wind!” said the cows, as they ate their grass. “Let’s give it a present. I wonder what it would like.”

“I know!” said a little red cow. “Let us buy it a fur coat to keep it warm from that horrid cold North Wind.” “Oh, no!” said the others. “That won’t do at all.”

“I know what we’ll do," said a black-and-white cow. “We’ll ask the weathercock on top of the church to point the wrong way when it hears the North Wind coming.-1 Then the North Wind will turn round and go back to the North Pole again, and won’t bother our dear South Wind.” “Oh, that’s a good idea!” said all the cows. So they said to the weathercock, “Dear Cock-a-doodle-doo, when you hear the North Wind coming, will you point to the south instead of the north so that horrid North Wind goes away?”

“Well, I will, just this once,” said the Cock-a-doodle-doo.

That evening the cows were sitting in their field when the South Wind stopped blowing and a chill breeze from the north blew across the field.

It was the North Wind coming to make them all cold.

It had come from the North Pole across icebergs and frozen sea and was very cold.

“Ho! Ho!” roared the North Wind. “I’ll freeze you up.”

But the weathercock was ready for him. He waited until the North Wind was busy showing off1 to a small clump of trees, by making them shiver and shake.2

Then, very slowly, he started to turn himself round. It was not easy to do, because by now the North Wind was blowing very hard indeed, but after a few minutes he was not pointing North at all.

Then the North Wind noticed that the weathercock was pointing South.

“Oh God!” it said. “I’m the North Wind, not the South Wind. I must be going the wrong way.”3 And it

turned and blew the other way and was back at the North Pole again before it could say, “Jack Frost!” 1

“That’s funny,” it said. “I don’t seem to know whether I’m coming or going today.2 I think I’ll have a little sleep!” So the North Wind got into bed and went to sleep.

Back home, the cows ate their clover and grass. Soon the South Wind came again and blew gently through the meadows and across their field.

Bumpety! Bumpety! Bump!

Once upon a time there was a bump who lived in the road and it was very happy because every time a bus came along it went “bump!” and all the people inside said, “Oh, what a bump!”

And the conductor said, “My, that is a big bump!”

“I do like being a bump!” said the Bump.

Just then a little boy on a bicycle came along.

“Here we go again!”1 said the Bump. But the boy steered round it and didn’t go bump at all.

The Bump was very sad.

“Never mind!” said the road. “Here comes another bus!”

The bus came along and BUMPED and the driver said, “Oh, what a bump!”

And the conductor said, “My, that is a big bump!” And all the people said, “What a BUMP!”

The Bump felt quite happy again.

One day, in the spring, some road menders came along and put up some red flags to warn the traffic; then they got out their spades and pickaxes and repaired the road and put some tar on it.

“Now,” said the foreman, “it won’t go bump any more.”

The men picked up their pickaxes and spades and red flags and went away. Then a bus came along and it didn’t bump; and some more buses came and they didn’t go bump either.

“I wonder where it’s gone?” said one side of the road to the other. “It was such a nice bump.”

Just then a little girl came along on her scooter and didn’t look where she was going and fell off with a great big bump.

“Oh, there it is!” said the road. “The little girl’s got it.”

“I hope I don’t hurt,” thought the Bump.

It did hurt a bit!

But the little girl’s mother put some ointment on it to make it go away.

The Bump didn’t want to go away but it had to and it felt quite sad and went and sat in the toy cupboard 2 by an old tennis ball.

“Nobody really seems to like bumps,” it said. “I wish I could be something really useful like a bounce.”

“Well, come and stay with me and be a bounce,” said the ball.

“All right, I’ll try!” said the Bump.

So it tried very hard, and, that afternoon, when the

little girt went to play with her ball it bounced higher than it ever had before.

Higher than the top of her head. Higher than the top of Mummy’s head. Higher even than the lamp post,

She was pleased and so was the Bump,

“I do like being a bounce!” it said.