FS2.Stanley and the Magic Lamp by Jeff Brown

Author:Jeff Brown
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Children's Books.3-5
ISBN: 9780064420280
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 1996-04-02T10:00:00+00:00

Tom McRude shook his fist. “I’ll bet you can’t do that again!”

Mr. Lambchop served three more balls, each even faster than the first one, and as perfectly placed. Tom McRude could not even touch them, though the last one bounced up into his nose.

Then Mr. Lambchop rallied with him, gliding swiftly about the court and returning every shot with ease. With powerful forehands, he made Tom McRude run from corner to corner; with little drop shots, he drew the champion up to the net, then lobbed high shots to send him racing back again. Nobody has ever played such great tennis as Mr. Lambchop played that day.

Tom McRude was soon too tired, and too angry, to continue. He threw down his racket and jumped on it.

“You’re just lucky!” he yelled. “Besides, I have a cold! And the sun was in my eyes the whole time!” Pushing his way through the crowd, he ran out of the park.

There was tremendous cheering for Mr. Lambchop, who just smiled modestly and waved his racket in a friendly way. Then he came over to where the other Lambchops and Prince Haraz were standing with the TV-news director.

“You’re really good,” the director said. “Frankly, you looked terrible when you first went out there.”

“It takes me a while to get warmed up,” Mr. Lambchop said, and led his family away.

Leaving the park, Mrs. Lambchop signed many more autographs, and a reporter from Famous Faces magazine was waiting to interview her at home.

“You’ll be on the cover of our next issue,” said the reporter. “How much do you weigh? Will there be a movie about your life? Who gave you your first kiss?”

“None of your business!” said Mr. Lambchop, and the reporter went away.

They watched the evening news on television, hoping Mr. Lambchop’s tennis would be shown, but only Mrs. Lambchop appeared, with Tom McRude in the background. “The celebrated Harriet Lambchop was in the park today,” said the newscaster, after which came a close-up of Mrs. Lambchop saying, “I’m glad my fans are having such a lovely day,” and that was that.

Dinner was interrupted several times by phone calls for Mrs. Lambchop from newspaper and television people. The calls bothered Mr. Lambchop, but not the Liophant, who ate four pork chops, a jar of peanut butter, a quart of potato salad, and the rubber mat from under his dish.

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