Milly-Molly-Mandy’s Adventures
Page 3
But Milly-Molly-Mandy said quickly, “Billy Blunt ought to have first go!” (Maybe she wanted to see if Twinkletoes would mind being ridden!)
So Grandpa held the bridle while Billy Blunt got on. And after a moment Twinkletoes clip-clopped slowly across the yard with Billy Blunt sitting joggling on his back.
They all went into the meadow, and Grandpa stood by the gate, watching. It was very exciting!
“Does it feel nice?” Milly-Molly-Mandy called up to Billy Blunt.
“It looks lovely!” called little-friend-Susan.
“Not bad,” returned Billy Blunt. (He was really enjoying it like anything!) “Look out you don’t get under his feet!”
They went right across the meadow, and Twinkletoes didn’t seem to mind a bit. When they got back to the gate again Billy Blunt slid down, and then Grandpa helped little-friend-Susan up. (Milly-Molly-Mandy had to keep jumping because it was so exciting and so hard to wait her turn! – but of course visitors should have first go.)
Little-friend-Susan only wished that old Twinkletoes wouldn’t keep stopping to nibble the grass!
At last Milly-Molly-Mandy’s turn came.
She was lifted on to the pony’s broad back (it felt awfully high)! and off he went, with Milly-Molly-Mandy holding tight to his mane.
It was terribly thrilling! But soon she was able to sit up and look about a bit. It felt rather like being on a rocking-chair, as Twinkletoes ambled slowly along with his head drooping, while little-friend-Susan picked daisies and Billy Blunt romped with Toby the dog.
Suddenly – what do you think? – Twinkletoes seemed to stumble on a rough bit of ground and next moment Milly-Molly-Mandy slid sprawling over his head down into the long grass!
The others all came running to help her up, Toby the dog barking at poor Twinkletoes, who stood shaking his head in a puzzled sort of way.
“You let his head hang down, didn’t you?” said Grandpa; “and he kind of went to sleep! You want to let him feel the reins, only don’t pull on them. You’ll learn. Up with you, now!”
But Milly-Molly-Mandy wasn’t sure she wanted any more riding just at present. “It’s Billy’s turn again,” she said.
But Billy said, “No! You should always get on at once if you fall off a horse. Go on, get on.”
So then Milly-Molly-Mandy got on. And Twinkletoes trotted with her so nicely round the meadow that they all forgot about the tumble.
“Can we have some more rides soon?” asked Milly-Molly-Mandy as she got down and they all stood patting Twinkletoes.
Grandpa said, Yes, another day, when he had time to see about some stirrups.
Milly-Molly-Mandy and Billy Blunt and little-friend-Susan were glad to think they had a real horse to ride on now, like the little girl Jessamine!
Milly-Molly-Mandy Minds a Baby
Once upon a time Milly-Molly-Mandy had to mind a tiny little baby.
It was the funniest tiny little baby you could possibly imagine, and Milly-Molly-Mandy had to mind it because there didn’t seem to be anybody else to do so. She couldn’t find its mother or its father or any of its relations, so she had to take it home and look after it herself (because, of course, you can’t leave a tiny little baby alone in a wood, with no one anywhere about to look after it).
And this is how it happened.
Milly-Molly-Mandy wanted some acorn cups (which are useful for making dolls’ bowls, and wheels for matchbox carts, and all that sort of thing, you know). So, as little-friend-Susan was busy looking after her baby sister, Milly-Molly-Mandy went off to the woods with just Toby the dog to look for some.
While she was busy looking she heard a loud chirping noise. And Milly-Molly-Mandy said to herself, “I wonder what sort of bird that is?” And then she found a ripe blackberry, and forgot about the chirping noise.
After a time Milly-Molly-Mandy said to herself, “How that bird does keep on chirping!” And then Toby the dog found a rabbit hole, and Milly-Molly-Mandy forgot again about the chirping noise.
After some more time Milly-Molly-Mandy said to herself, “That bird sounds as if it wants something.” And then Milly-Molly-Mandy went towards a brambly clearing in the wood from which the chirping noise seemed to come.
But when she got there the chirping noise didn’t seem to come from a tree, but from a low bramble bush. And when she got to the low bramble bush the chirping noise stopped.
Milly-Molly-Mandy thought that was because it was frightened of her. So she said out loud, “It’s all right – don’t be frightened. It’s only me!” just as kindly as she could, and then she poked about in among the bramble bush. But she couldn’t find anything, except thorns.
And then, quite suddenly, lying in the grass on the other side of the bramble bush, Milly-Molly-Mandy and Toby the dog together found what had been making all the chirping noise. It was so frightened that it had rolled itself into a tight little prickly ball, no bigger than the penny india rubber ball which Milly-Molly-Mandy had bought at Miss Muggins’s shop the day before.
For what DO you think it was? A little tiny weeny baby hedgehog!
Milly-Molly-Mandy was excited! And so was Toby the dog! Milly-Molly-Mandy had to say, “No, Toby! Be quiet, Toby!” very firmly indeed. And then she picked up the baby hedgehog in a bracken leaf (because it was a very prickly baby, though it was so small), and she could just see its little soft nose quivering among its prickles.
Then Milly-Molly-Mandy looked about to find its nest (for, of course, she didn’t want to take it away from its family), but she couldn’t find it. And then the baby began squeaking again for its mother, but its mother didn’t come.
So at last Milly-Molly-Mandy said comfortingly, “Never mind, darling – I’ll take you home and look after you!”
So Milly-Molly-Mandy carried the baby hedgehog between her two hands very carefully; and it unrolled itself a bit and quivered its little soft nose over her fingers as if it hoped they might be good to eat, and it squeaked and squeaked, because it was very hungry. So Milly-Molly-Mandy hurried all she could, and Toby the dog capered along at her side, and at last they got home to the nice white cottage with the thatched roof.
Father and Mother and Grandpa and Grandma and Uncle and Aunty were all very interested indeed.
Mother put a saucer of milk on the stove to warm, and then they tried to feed the baby. But it was too little to lap from a saucer, and it was too little even to lick from Milly-Molly-Mandy’s finger. So at last they had to wait until it opened its mouth to squeak and then squirt drops of warm milk into it with Father’s fountain pen filler!
After that the baby felt a bit happier, and Milly-Molly-Mandy made it a nest in a little box of hay. But when she put it in it squeaked and squeaked again for its nice warm mother till Milly-Molly-Mandy put her hand in the box; and then it snuggled up against it and went to sleep. And Milly-Molly-Mandy stood there and chuckled softly to herself, because it felt so funny being mistaken for Mrs Hedgehog! (She quite liked it!)
They were all very interested indeed
When Father and Grandpa and Uncle came in to dinner the baby woke and began squeaking again. So Uncle picked it up in his big hand to have a look at it, while Milly-Molly-Mandy ran for more milk and the fountain pen filler.
And the baby squeaked so loudly that Uncle said, “Hul-lo, Horace! What’s all this noise about!” And Milly-Molly-Mandy was pleased, because “Horace” just seemed to suit the baby hedgehog, and no one knew what its mother had named it (but I don’t suppose it was Horace!).
Milly-Molly-Mandy was kept very busy all that day feeding Horace every hour or two. He was so prickly that she had to wrap him round in an old handkerchief first – and he looked the funniest little baby in a white shawl you ever did see!
When bedtime came Milly-Molly-Mandy wanted to take the hedgehog’s box up to her little room with her. But Mother said no, he would be all right in the kitchen till morning. So they gave him a hot bottle to snuggle against (it was an ink bottle, wrapped in flannel), and the
n Milly-Molly-Mandy went off to bed.
But being “mother” even to a hedgehog is very important sort of job, and in the night Milly-Molly-Mandy woke up and thought of Horace, and wondered if he felt lonely in his new home.
And she creepy-crept in the dark to the top of the stairs and listened.
And after a time she heard a tiny little “Squeak! Squeak!” coming from the kitchen. So she hurried and pulled on her dressing-gown and her bedroom slippers, and then she hurried and creepy-crept in the dark downstairs into the kitchen, and carefully lit the candle on the dresser.
And then she fed Horace and talked to him in a comfortable whisper, so that he didn’t feel lonely any more. And then she put him back to bed and blew out the candle, and creepy-crept in the dark upstairs to her own little bed. (And it did feel so nice and warm to get into again!)
Next day Horace learned to open his mouth when he felt the fountain pen filler touch it (he couldn’t see, because his eyes weren’t open yet – just like a baby puppy or kitten). And quite soon he learned to suck away at the filler just as if it were a proper baby’s bottle! And he grew and he grew, and in a week’s time his eyes were open. And soon he grew little teeth, and could gobble bread and milk out of an eggcup, and sometimes a little bit of meat or banana.
He was quite a little-boy hedgehog now, instead of a little baby one, and Milly-Molly-Mandy didn’t need to get up in the night any more to feed him.
Milly-Molly-Mandy was very proud of him, and when little-friend-Susan used to say she had to hurry home after school to look after her baby sister, Milly-Molly-Mandy used to say she had to hurry too to look after the baby Horace. She used to give him walks in the garden, and laugh at his funny little back legs and tiny tail as he waddled about, nosing the ground. When Toby the dog barked he would roll himself up into a prickly ball in a second; but he soon came out again, and would run to Milly-Molly-Mandy’s hand when she called “Horace!” (He was quite happy with her for a mother.)
One day Horace got out of his hay-box in the kitchen, and they couldn’t find him for a long time, though they all looked – Father and Mother and Grandpa and Grandma and Uncle and Aunty and Milly-Molly-Mandy. But at last where do you think they found him? – in the larder!
“Well!” said Uncle, “Horace knows how to look after himself all right now!”
After that Horace’s bed was put out in the barn, and Milly-Molly-Mandy would take his little basin of bread and milk out to him, and stay and play till it got too chilly.
And then, one frosty morning, they couldn’t find Horace anywhere, though they all looked – Father and Mother and Grandpa and Grandma and Uncle and Aunty and Milly-Molly-Mandy. But at last, a day or two after, Grandpa was pulling out some hay for the pony Twinkletoes, when what do you think he found! A little ball of prickles cuddled up deep in the hay!
Horace had gone to sleep for the winter, like the proper little hedgehog he was! (Grandpa said that sort of going to sleep was called “hibernating”.)
So Milly-Molly-Mandy put the hay with the prickly ball inside it into a large box in the barn, with a little bowl of water near by (in case Horace should wake up and want a drink).
And there she left him (sleeping soundly while the cold winds blew and the snows fell) until he should wake up in the spring and come out to play with her again!
(And that’s a true story!)
Other Milly-Molly-Mandy books
Family
Friends
School Days
First published by Kingfisher 2005
This edition published 2012 by Macmillan Children’s Books
This electronic edition published 2012 by Macmillan Children’s Books
a division of Macmillan Publishers Limited
Pan Macmillan, 20 New Wharf Road, London N1 9RR
Basingstoke and Oxford
Associated companies throughout the world
www.panmacmillan.com
ISBN 978-0-230-76631-0 EPUB
The stories in this collection first appeared in
More of Milly-Molly-Mandy (1929)
Further Doings of Milly-Molly-Mandy (1932)
Milly-Molly-Mandy and Billy Blunt (1967)
published by George G. Harrap & Co. Ltd
Text and illustrations copyright © Joyce Lankester Brisley 1929, 1932, 1967
The right of Joyce Lankester Brisley to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
You may not copy, store, distribute, transmit, reproduce or otherwise make available this publication (or any part of it) in any form, or by any means (electronic, digital, optical, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the publisher. Any person who does any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
Publisher’s Note
The stories in this collection are reproduced in the form in which they appeared upon first publication in the UK by George G. Harrap & Co. Ltd. All spellings remain consistent with these original editions.
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