Poo-Poo and the Dragons by C. S. Forester

Author:C. S. Forester
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: juvenile, fiction, dragon, fantasy
Publisher: Reading Essentials
Published: 1942-06-15T05:00:00+00:00

12

A long time ago I told you about the neighbour who lived across the road, and I’m sure you remember her name, but in case anybody has forgotten it (not that I think you have forgotten it for a moment) it was Mrs. Theodosia Devereux.

One morning she telephoned to Poo-Poo’s mother (who had a much shorter name) and said,

“Something terrible has happened, I have lost Marmaduke!” Marmaduke Prendergast Devereux was the name of Mrs. Devereux’s (she had a nice Christian name which you know by now) baby son who was only six months old, and who was doing his best to grow as long as his name.

“Dear, oh dear, oh dear!” said Mrs. Brown on the telephone. “However did this happen?”

“I don’t know,” said Theodosia (that is what Mrs. Brown called her because she knew her very well, but we have to say something else). “I left him in his pram just outside the house, and when I came out he was gone.”

“What about the pram?” asked Mrs. Brown.

“That was gone too,” said Mrs. Devereux.

“Well,” said Mrs. Brown, “if he took his pram with him, he ought to be all right.”

“But supposing he’s been kidnapped!” said Mrs. Devereux.

“I hadn’t thought of that,” said Mrs. Brown. “Have you telephoned the police?”

“I’ll do that directly,” said Mrs. Devereux.

“And I’ll go and talk to my husband while you telephone,” said Mrs. Brown.

So Mrs. Brown went along to her husband, and Mr. Brown sighed and said,

“What is the trouble now? I suppose it’s either dragons or little boys.”

“No, it isn’t either,” said Mrs. Brown. “This time it’s a baby. Marmaduke Prendergast is missing.”

And Mrs. Brown told Mr. Brown everything that Mrs. Devereux just told her, and ended up by saying how she had advised Mrs. Devereux to call the police.

“That’s a pity,” said Mr. Brown, getting up out of his chair very hurriedly and putting down his newspaper. “It might have been just as well to have kept the police out of this, because I have my suspicions. Have you seen Ermyntrude lately?”

“Now you come to mention it,” said Mrs. Brown, “I haven’t. Poo-Poo and Horatio are playing in the garden, but Ermyntrude isn’t there.”

“Just what I expected,” said Mr. Brown, very cross indeed; “didn’t you know that in female dragons the maternal instinct is very highly developed? Run and tell Mrs. Devereux quick, and tell her not to telephone the police. I’ll go and get the car out.”

But when Mrs. Brown got through to Mrs. Devereux, she found it was already too late, because Mrs. Devereux had already telephoned the police, and you know that once the police start on a case, especially to do with kidnapping, they never relax their hold.

So Mr. Brown and Mrs. Brown and Poo-Poo all jumped into the car, and the other dragon (what was his name?) ran along behind them, and they tore round the streets looking for Ermyntrude and the baby (who was not quite as long as his name, which I expect you remember), and

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