This Time Stories by Donald Bisset. P.2

Дата публикации: Aug 01, 2021 1:6:2 PM

The Tiger Who Liked Baths

Once upon a time there was a tiger whose name was Bert. He had big, white, sharp teeth and when he growled, it made a noise like thunder.

But Bert was a very nice tiger, always kind and gentle, except when someone else wanted to have a bath.

He loved having a bath and lay in the water all day until Mr. and Mrs. Smith and their baby daughter, who lived with him, were very cross. Because every time they went to have a bath Bert growled and showed his teeth.

“Come on, Bert! Do come out and have your supper,” said Mrs. Smith, holding out a big plate of bones.

“No, thank you,” said Bert, and growled.

Poor Mrs. Smith nearly cried. “It’s time to bath the baby,” she said, “and there’s Bert still in the bath. Whatever shall I do?”

“I know what we’ll do,” said Mr. Smith, and he went and bought twenty bottles of black ink and, when Bert wasn’t looking, he poured them into his bath. It made the water all black so that Bert got all black too.

A few hours later Bert decided it was supper time, so he got out of the bath.

“Oh, look at that big black pussy cat,” said Mr. Smith.

“Oh, yes, what a beautiful pussy cat!” said Mrs. Smith.

“Pussy cat?” said Bert. “I’m not a pussy cat. I’m a tiger.”

“Tigers have stripes,” said Mr. Smith. “They are not black all over like you.”

“Oh dear!” said Bert. “Perhaps I am a pussy cat, after all.”

“And pussy cats,” said Mrs. Smith, “don’t like having baths. You know that.”

“That’s true!” said Bert.

After supper Bert went to the garden. And Prince, the dog next door, who liked chasing pussy cats, saw Bert, and said, “There’s a pussy cat! I’ll chase him!”

He felt a bit nervous because Bert looked the biggest pussy cat he had ever seen. Still, pussy cats had always run away before when he barked at them, so he ran up to Bert barking and showing his teeth.

Bert turned his head lazily and growled just once, like this: “Gr-r-r-r!”

Prince had never been so frightened in his life, and he jumped over the fence and ran home.

A little later, when Mr. Smith came into the garden,' Bert asked him, “Am I really a pussy cat? Don’t you think I’m too big?”

“Well, you’re not really a pussy cat,” said Mr. Smith. “You’re a tiger. A special kind of tiger, who never likes staying in the bath for more than half an hour. And that’s the very best kind of tiger.”

Bert was pleased. “That kind!”, he said to himself. “The very best kind!” And he purred and then licked all the black off till he was a lovely yellow tiger again with /black stripes.

Then he went into the house and said to Mr. Smith, “I think I’ll just go and have a bath.” And he turned the water on and had a lovely bath. But he stayed in the water only for half an hour, and Mrs. Smith said he was a very good tiger and gave him a big bucket of ice-cream.

Bert put his head in the bucket and licked. “Yum! yum! yum!” he said. “I do like ice-cream.”

The Station Who Wouldn’t Keep Still

Once upon a time there was a king whose name was Samuel. He was sitting on his throne one afternoon thinking how nice it would be to go for a ride on a railway train to see his Granny. So he said good-bye to the Queen and set off.

When he got to Waterloo Station1 he was just going to step off the escalator on to the platform when he heard the station say: “I would like a cup of tea,” and when King Samuel stepped out ... the station wasn’t there.

He was surprised.

He was standing on nothing!

“Oh, what a nuisance,” said the King. “I’ll miss the train and Granny will be furious.”

“Come back at once!” he called.

But the station wouldn’t.

“No!-Not till I’ve finished my tea,” it said.

When it had finished tea the station came back and King Samuel caught the train. Off they went. “Chuff, chuff, chuff.”

After they had gone a little way2 they saw a cow in a field by the railway line. So the train stopped.

“Are we going 'the right way to Granny’s house?” asked the engine-driver.

“Oh, yes!” said the cow. “Can I come too?”

“Yes, you can,” said the engine-driver. “Jump in!”

So Sally — that was the cow’s name — jumped in and away they went again. They had hardly gone a few yards3 when they heard a great panting and blowing behind them. They looked round and there just behind them, hurrying as fast as it could, was Waterloo Station. “Can I come too?” it said.

“Of course!” said King Samuel. So they all went together and soon arrived at Granny’s house.

She was surprised to see such a crowd. There was the engine-driver and Sally and King Samuel and, last of all, Waterloo Station itself.

Granny was pleased to see them and gave them all a cup of tea and, after tea, King Samuel said, “It’s time to go home. I’ve got to be at Waterloo Station at five o’clock.”

“Then there’s no need to hurry,” said Granny, “because Waterloo Station is right here!”

“Now that’s true!” said the King. “That will save a lot of travelling.1 In that case we’ve all time for another cup of tea.”

So Granny made some more tea, and after lea they ' all played until five o’clock. Then they said good-bye to Granny and got on Waterloo Station — and there they were, where they had started from! Except for Sally, the cow, who caught a slow train home.

“What a nice station you are,” thought the King, as he said good-bye. “I must go now. The Queen ’will be expecting me. Do visit us sometime, won’t you?”

Under the Carpet

Once upon a time there was a tiger and a horse who were great friends and they lived under the carpet in the drawing-room.

They liked living in the drawing-room because they liked drawing.

Sheila,2 the little girl who lived in the house, once asked them, “How do you get flat so as to get under the carpet?”3

“Because we’re imaginary animals,” they said.

“I’m an imaginary tiger.”

“And I’m an imaginary horse.”

“And where do you keep your hay?” Sheila asked the horse.

“Under the carpet,” he said.. “It’s imaginary hay.” “And do you keep your bones there, too?” she asked the tiger.

“Yes!” he said. “Bones!” And licking his lips, he disappeared under the carpet. The horse followed him and Sheila was left alone.

Then she got some paper and drew pictures of lumps of sugar on it and put the piece of paper under the carpet.

Presently she heard a crunching sound and a pleased sort of horsey voice saying “Yum, yum, yum”.1

Then she wrote on a small piece of paper, “What do tigers like?” and put it under the carpet. There was a whispering noise, then the horse poked his head out.

“Hay sandwiches,” he said.

Sheila looked at him. “You’re a naughty horse. Hay sandwiches are what horses like, aren’t they'? Now, go and ask the tiger what he would like.”

The horse went and the tiger came out. “I’d like a wrist-watch,” he said. “So that I can tell the time.”

“All right!” said Sheila, and she drew the wrist-watch and gave it to him; and some hay sandwiches for the horse. He disappeared. Presently they both came out.

“Thank you very much, Sheila!” they said, and gave her a kiss.

“Is there anything else you’d like tonight?” she asked them. “It’s nearly my bedtime.”

“There is one thing we’d like,” they said. “An umbrella.”

“An umbrella!” said Sheila. “But it doesn’t rain under the carpet. Oh, I forgot! It’s imaginary rain!”

“Of course!” they said.

So she drew them an umbrella and gave it to them. “Thank you!” they said. “Good night!”

“Good night!” said Sheila, and went up to bed. Then she thought, “Wouldn’t it be dreadful to have a lovely new umbrella and then for it not to rain!” 1 So she drew some rain on a big piece of paper and tiptoed downstairs and slipped it under the carpet.

Next morning when she came down, the drawing-room was a foot deep2 in water and the tiger and the horse were sitting in the umbrella which was opened and floating upside-down like a boat.

“I must have drawn3 too much rain!” thought Sheila. After breakfast, when she came back to the drawingroom, Mummy was sweeping the carpet. There was no water and no umbrella and no tiger and no horse.

She sat down with her drawing-book and began to draw a tiger and a horse both sound asleep. Presently Mummy went out. Sheila sat and stared into the fire and all was quiet in the drawing-room except for the sound of snoring from under the carpet.