Enid Blyton (2 page)

"Thank you, Mr. Pink-Whistle," each little guest said. "Thank you for having me to your lovely party. Good-bye!"

Merry said the same—and she gave the kind little man a sudden hug.

"You planned your party for
me,
I know you did!" she said. "It's the nicest one I've ever been to. I love you, Mr. Pink-Whistle. You go round the world putting things right—and that's what
I'm
going to do too!"

"You do it already—that's why I gave this party for you," said Pink-Whistle. "Well, good-bye, and I hope you'll like your present. I'll look out for you on the gate in three weeks' time!"

Merry opened her parcel when she got indoors. You will never guess what was inside! Very neatly folded, wrapped carefully in tissue paper, was—a pair of silvery wings! There was a little note tied to them.

"These can be fitted on your shoulders and used on every full-moon night. Please put away carefully when not in use."

"What a present!" said Merry, softly, in the greatest delight. "Wings!

Wings of my own!" She shook them out gently, and looked at the calendar on the wall.

"Oh, dear—it won't be full-moon night for ten days! How can I possibly wait?"

She'll have to wait, of course—but won't she be pleased to go flying in the garden when the moon is big and round and shiny! Dear old Pink-Whistle—he does know how to make people happy, doesn't he?

MR. PINK-WHISTLE AT WORK 
AGAIN

ONE day, when Mr. Pink-Whistle was sitting eating an egg for his breakfast, his pointed ears heard something far away. Sooty, his cat, looked at him. She could hear something, too.

"It's somebody crying," said Mr. Pink-Whistle, getting up in a hurry.

"It sounds like a child. I haven't time to finish my toast, Sooty. I'll be back soon, I hope."

Mr. Pink-Whistle hurried to put on his hat, and then went down the garden path at top speed. He could still hear that crying.

He hopped on a bus, and went for some way, and then hopped off again. He stood and listened, his pointed ears moving like a dog's. Ah—the crying was somewhere over there—somewhere near that cottage.

Off he went, stepping softly, and soon he came to where a little girl was sitting, leaning against an old wall. She wasn't crying very loudly as you might have thought because of Mr. Pink-Whistle hearing her so far away, but quite softly.

"What's the matter?" asked Mr. Pink-Whistle. The little girl looked up. She wasn't at all afraid to see Mr. Pink-Whistle, his green eyes were so kind.

"Oh—did you hear me crying?" she said. "I thought I was being very quiet."

"Yes. I heard you," said Mr. Pink-Whistle, and he sat down beside her. "Now—what's the matter? I'm Mr. Pink-Whistle, and I try to put wrong things right. Maybe I can put something right for you?”

"Oh—are you really Mr. Pink-Whistle?" said the little girl, in delight.

"I've read about you, and I always wanted to meet you. But I'm afraid you can't put things right for
me."

"You tell me, and I'll see," said Pink-Whistle, and he took out a big bag of peppermints. 

HERE, TAKE MY HANKY—IT'S BIGGER THAN YOURS AND CLEANER," SAID 
MR. PINK-WHISTLE.

"Let's have one of these while we talk."

"Well, it's like this," said the little girl, taking a peppermint. "I haven't got a father or mother, so my auntie looks after me. She's not very fond of me, really, because she thinks it's a nuisance to have me to see to.

But she's all I've got. And now she's getting married and going out to Canada—so, of course, she doesn't want me any more—and—and------."

"And you're going to be sent away to strangers, and you're afraid," said Mr. Pink-Whistle at once. "Here, take my hanky—it's bigger than yours and cleaner."

The little girl rubbed her face with Pink-Whistle's hanky, and tried to stop crying. "Yes, I'm to go to somebody called Mrs. Clamp, and she's got three boys all bigger than me, and a little girl who doesn't want me there.

Mrs. Clamp smacks people a lot, and I'm frightened."

"What you want is somebody to love you, isn't it?" said Mr. Pink-Whistle. "A real mother?"

"Oh, yes—wouldn't that be lovely!" said the little girl, beaming.

"You know—the kind of mother who welcomes you home from school and wants to know what you've been doing, and looks after you when you're not well, and makes you a cake on your birthday, and fills your stocking at Christmas, and says good-night to you when you're in bed."

"I know the kind of mother you mean," said Mr. Pink-Whistle. "It's the kind of mother most children have. Dear, dear—what a pity that a nice little girl like you can't make some mother very happy."

"I'd try my hardest," said the little girl earnestly. "But mothers all have children of their own and they don't want me. I suppose, Mr. Pink-Whistle—I suppose you don't know any children who don't want their mother and would let me have her?"

"I know plenty of children who aren't good or kind to their mothers,"

said Mr. Pink-Whistle, handing out another peppermint, "but that doesn't really mean they want to give her away! This is a difficult problem, little girl. By the way, what is your name?"

"Alice," said the little girl. She gave Pink-Whistle back his hanky.

"I'm all right now," she said. "It's nice to have you for a friend, Mr. Pink-Whistle. I don't wonder that all the children love you."

"Well, well—that's a nice thing to say," said Pink-Whistle, pleased.

"Look here—I can't think what to do about you—but do you think your aunt would let you come and stay with Sooty—that's my cat— and me, for a day or two, whilst I look round? Has she heard of me?"

"Oh, yes," said Alice. "Sometimes she's read me stories about you, so she knows you already."

Well, that's how it happened that Mr. Pink-Whistle had little Alice to stay with him. Sooty was delighted. The little girl was so kind and willing.

She wanted to do all kinds of jobs for Pink-Whistle, and you should just have seen how well she darned his socks, and mended a hole in his shirt!

She was sweet to Sooty, too, and helped her to clean the house, and even brushed the fur on top of her head, where Sooty couldn't reach to lick.

Mr. Pink-Whistle couldn't seem to find
anyone
who would be a good mother to Alice. They all seemed so busy and worried and tired. It would never do to ask them to look after yet another child.

He talked to Sooty about it and Sooty had an idea.

"You know, Master," she said, "there's Miss Trot-About in the next village. She lives in Cherry Cottage, and------."

"Yes. I remember her/' said Pink-Whistle. "Isn't she the one with five cats and a parrot?"

"Yes," said Sooty. "That's how I know so much about her. I know all the cats, you see. They say Miss Trot-About is the kindest, nicest person, who never forgets their fish and milk, and------."

"Yes, yes," said Pink-Whistle, "but if she's got all those cats to fuss about, surely she wouldn't want a little girl?"

"I think it's because she hasn't got a little girl or boy that she fusses

'over the cats," said Sooty. "She's the kind of person that's got to love somebody, you see, somebody of her own. Well, those cats are hers, and she really does love them."

"It's an idea," said Pink-Whistle, thinking hard. "Yes, it really is."

He went over to see Miss Trot-About. She was feeding all her cats.

He noticed that she was limping and walking with a stick.

"Good morning, Mr. Pink-Whistle," she said. "Excuse my limping like this. I've got a very bad leg, and I really ought to be in bed for a bit—but there's nobody I can trust to see to my pussies."

"Well!" said Mr. Pink-Whistle at once, "I wonder if you'd like a little friend of mine to come and see to them for you. She's staying with me now, and Sooty, my cat, loves her. She would be very pleased to come and look after both you and your cats, I'm sure. And the parrot, too."

"Really?" said Miss Trot-About. "Well, if she's a friend of
yours,
Mr. Pink-Whistle, she must be all right. Bring her over. But mind— if I don't like her, back she comes the very next day!"

"Certainly, certainly," said Pink-Whistle, and off he went, all the cats following him to the gate. He whistled gaily as he caught the bus home.

Had he managed to put a wrong thing right again? He would soon know.

He told Alice about poor Miss Trot-About and her bad leg, and all her cats and the parrot. Alice listened hard.

''She ought to be in bed for a little while," she said. "Mr. Pink-Whistle, should I just pop over there for a day, and let her have a rest? I'm sure I could look after the cats—and the parrot, too."

"Well, that certainly would be kind," said Pink-Whistle. And that's how it came about that Alice went over to stay with Miss Trot-About till her leg got better.

Miss Trot-About had only two bedrooms, her own and a little one under the eaves. It had a slanting roof, and a climbing rose looked in at the window. A small bed stood by the wall. Alice looked at the room in delight.

ALICE LOOKED AT THE ROOM IN DELIGHT. " OH- -AM I GOING TO SLEEP 
HERE ? " SHE SAID

"Oh—am I going to sleep here?" she said. "Oh, Miss Trot-About, I do love your house. It's a
home,
isn't it, not just a house. You've so many flowers about, and I like your gay cushions, and your clock has such a nice loud tick, and isn't it lovely the way the cats all curl up in their own baskets."

"Dear me—what a long speech," said Miss Trot-About, pleased.

"Now, do you think you can cook the fish for the cats, and give them their meal? And the parrot's cage wants cleaning out, and . . ."

"Oh, Miss Trot-About, of course I can do all that!" said Alice. "I'd love to. But won't you get into bed and rest your leg? That's why I've come, you know—to look after things for you till your leg's better! The cats will be all right—see how they follow me about already!"

Well, Alice settled into that little cottage as if she had lived there all her life. The cats loved her. The parrot talked to her all day long. Even the hens out in the garden came clucking when she called them.

ALICE GAVE MISS TROT-ABOUT A HUG.

Miss Trot-About stayed in bed for two days—then another day—

and then another and another. She heard Alice trotting round, humming, talking to the parrot, fussing the cats, lighting the gas under the kettle, and generally sounding as happy a could be.

"I must get up to-morrow," said Miss Trot-About each day. But she didn't. "Oh, dear, I can't," she said to herself. "My leg is quite better. I'm a fraud, I know. But if I get up and show that I'm better, little Alice will go. I can't bear her to go. She's better than the cats, and a hundred times nicer than the parrot. If ever I'd had a little girl I would have wanted one just like Alice!"

Well, of course, Miss Trot-About had to get up at last! She got up really because Mr. Pink-Whistle sent to say he was coming to tea that day.

That meant he would take Alice away. Alice watched her coming quite easily downstairs.

"Oh—your leg really and truly is better!" she said. "I'm so glad!"