Funny Frank (12 page)

“Come and see what I've got for you,” he said to his daughter when he arrived home. He took a crate out of the back of the Land Rover.

“Oh, Dad!” cried Jemima. “Is it a girl-friend for Frank?”

“Yes. What d'you think of her?”

Jemima lifted out of the crate a pullet of
a particularly pretty color. She was not brown like all the other hens in the flock. She was speckled, her white feathers covered in little black dots.

“She's gorgeous!” cried Jemima softly. “Shall I take her out and introduce her to Frank?”

“I think I'd leave it till the morning,” said Tom

Tabb.“It's getting late, it'll be dark soon. Stick her in the old rabbit hutch for tonight with some food and water and we'll put her out tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” Jemima said, “Mum's going to take Frank's wet suit and webs off.”

“Wait till she has, then. This little girl might get a bit of a shock if she meets Frank in all his funny gear.”

She won't get a shock, thought Jemima
as she lay in bed that night. She'll probably think he looks really cool.

So next morning, when she went to let the flock out, Jemima caught up Frank and carried him to the rabbit hutch. Frank looked in, to see a vision of speckled beauty. He let out a strangled croak. It was love at first sight!

The pullet's reaction at seeing him was rather different. She put her head on one side and regarded him with a bright eye.

“Coo-er!” she said. “You look pretty funny.”

“Funny ‘ha! ha!’ or funny ‘peculiar’?” asked Frank.

“Both,” replied the pullet, and she turned her back on him.

Frank looked crestfallen.

“Don't worry,” Jemima said to him. “Wait till we get all that old stuff off you.”

With the help of her mother, she unstuck the wet suit and took off the artificial webs. Then Jemima took Frank out into the orchard and let him go.

Hope he doesn't try to swim now, she thought, ready to rescue him if he should. But grown-up Frank seemed to have more sense. To be sure, he waded a little way into the pond on his long legs to say good morning to his web-footed friends, but no farther. Then he ran lightly off and began to scratch about in the grass with those sharp claws he'd never properly used, and gave himself a good dust bath, and shook his bright red feathers, hidden for so long under their rubber

covering, and began thoroughly to preen himself. Then he jumped easily onto the top of the big log and stood up on his toes and puffed out his chest and stretched out his neck and crowed a loud, triumphant crow.

Gertie had just reentered the henhouse to lay an egg when Mildred came dashing in.

“Quickly, come quickly, dear!” she screeched.

“I have told you before, Mildred—” began Gertie, but Mildred continued, unabashed.

“It's Frank!” she cried. “You'll never guess!”And she rushed out again.

Frank, from having been the bane of Gertie's life, was now—thanks to his saving
of that life—the apple of her eye, and she forgot both her cry of triumph at laying and her dignity and went tearing after her friend.

“Where is he? What's happened? Is he all right?” she cried, and then she saw, standing upon the log by the pond, a magnificent young red cockerel. Who's he? she thought. “Where's my Frank?” she said.

“There, dear,” said Mildred. “On the log. That's him. They've taken his clothes off. Isn't he handsome!”And as she spoke, Frank gave another loud, triumphant crow.

At that moment Jemima came out carrying the speckled pullet and put her down
on the grass and watched her scamper toward the new Frank and stop by the log to gaze up at him.

“Hello, handsome,” said the pullet. “Where have you been all my life?”

Inside a wet suit, thought Frank. “I think we've met before,” he gulped.

“We certainly have not,” replied the speckled pullet. “The only guy I've met since I arrived last evening was a weird-looking wally dressed up as a duck. As different from you as could be, lover boy.”

Lover boy? Frank thought.

“Hope I don't meet him again,” said the pullet.

“You won't,” said Frank.“He's gone. By the way, my name's Frank. What's yours?”

“Haven't really got a name,” she said. “My mum just called us all ‘chick.’”

Frank hopped off the log and stood beside her.“I'd call you gorgeous,” he murmured softly.