by Dorothy Wall
“That’s wonderful!” Mrs Koala replied. “We’ll all go down and have some supper.”
“I can’t come!” Blinky said, staring at Nutsy with looks of contempt.
“Why not?” Mrs Koala asked.
“I’m on my beat!” Blinky answered.
“Come down here and have your supper or I’ll be on the beat!” Mrs Koala ordered sternly. “And put this policeman business out of your head at once. The idea of living in a tree with a policeman!” Mrs Koala mumbled away to herself. She was very annoyed.
“I can’t come!”
Once down on the cosy corner of the gum-tree that she liked so much her ruffled temper subsided. She asked Nutsy where she came from and how she came to be in the tree. “You must have a mother and father somewhere, child,” she said, patting Nutsy’s soft ears.
“No! I just woke up one day and found myself in this tree,” Nutsy replied. And no further questions of Mrs Koala’s produced a different answer.
“Oh well, from now on, you’ll live with Blinky and me. I’ll be delighted to have a little daughter, as I’ve been feeling lately I’d like to twist a little girl’s curls up every night in gum-leaves. I can’t do that with a boy — specially Blinky. There’s no knowing what he’d do next if I started.” Mrs Koala heaved a big sigh of contentment.
Together the three bears ate their supper, chattering and grunting with the pure joy of living. Out of the corner of her eye Mrs Koala noticed Blinky pass Nutsy several young juicy leaves — not once, but on several occasions. Smiling to herself she wisely said nothing.
“We’d better write out an invitation to the tree-warming,” Mrs Koala said when they had finished their meal.
“Don’t ask Mrs Grunty,” Blinky said instantly. “She’ll spoil everything.”
“We can’t ignore her like that. It would be so rude,” Mrs Koala replied. “But we needn’t make a fuss of her.”
“Well, don’t kiss her when she comes,” Blinky said, looking very glum. “When you kissed her, before we went to the zoo, I always used to notice she thought that was the sign to gobble up all the best leaves and give you bad advice about me.”
“I never thought of that, let alone noticed it,” Mrs Koala replied. “She always had such a lot to say that my head would become a whirlwind in no time — being a simple body. However, let’s get that invitation printed.”
“I’ll do it!” Blinky exclaimed, “and well stick it on the bottom of the tree.”
Later in the evening three little bears stuck a notice up on the tree.
“What’s the P.C. for?” Splodge inquired as he gazed at the notice.
“Possum’s Companion,” Blinky replied loudly. Then drawing Splodge aside whispered in his ear: “It means Police Constable, But don’t you say a word to mother, She won’t let me be a butcher man or anything I want to be.”
“Well, I’m glad we’re to have a P.C. because some of the kangaroos round here want sending about their business. Hanging about gum-trees all night long and frightening respectable lady wallabies out of their skins. It’s a scandal!” Splodge thumped his tail on the ground. “For a few bushels of peas, I’d become a policeman myself!”
“No you won’t!” Blinky said crossly. “There’s only work for one policeman here, and I thought of it first, so it’s mine.”
“Oh, I don’t want the job really,” Splodge said, chewing a straw thoughtfully. “You’ll have your work cut out if you have to run Mrs Snake in, or a couple of dozen of those Bull-jo ants when they become obnoxious. And there’s also the bees. I remember seeing a whole colony drunk one day. Been stealing the sugar from Farmer Scratchet’s home brew. How would you like to arrest them for disorderly conduct?”
That certainly made Blinky think.
“Well, I’ll make you my assistant if you like,” Blinky said condescendingly.
“That’ll do me!” Splodge replied, “as long as I can do a bit of kicking when it’s required. Now, I can sign letters after my name. Mr Splodge — Police Assistant. That’s fine!”
“It’s far too long,” Blinky interrupted. “You’ll sign yourself like this” — picking up a twig he scratched on the tree:
SPLODGE, ASS.
Splodge examined it closely.
“You don’t mean to be rude or clever do you?” he asked uncomfortably.
“You don’t mean to he rude or clever do you?” Splodge asked uncomfortably.
“Of course not!” Blinky replied. “Can’t you see that’s short for assistant?”
“Oh! very well,” Splodge answered, still looking doubtfully at the signature. “Perhaps I’m over self-conscious.”
“Stop talking so much and come and help me to prepare the tree-warming,” Mrs Koala interrupted. “Talk about women gossiping —”
Splodge set to work.
“Tut! Tut!” Splodge replied. “Tell me what to do and I’ll get to work.”
“There’s a patch to be cleared round the foot of the tree to start with,” Mrs Koala remarked, “and the supper to collect.”
“I’ll get the gum-nuts!” Nutsy said, half-way up the tree.
“Blinky — you gather some of the best leaves off the tree — only don’t take the very best — and I’ll see what I can collect.”
Mrs Koala padded away through the bushes. Splodge set to work with a will. He scratched all the dead leaves and rubbish away from the foot of the tree, and scraped the lichen off a large flat rock with his sharp nails, preparing it for the table. He carried small bunches of wild berries in his mouth, laying them across the table. Nutsy threw from the branches overhead, dozens of gum-nuts, and Blinky sent down a shower of leaves. Certainly not the very best, as some had clearly been well nibbled beforehand. Mrs Koala returned, delighted with her find: an armful of watercress.
Blinky and Nutsy scuttled down the tree to see the treasure.
“Don’t touch it!” Mrs Koala commanded. “It will probably kill you if you eat it. You know, as I’ve often told you, only special gum-leaves are for koalas. This is for Splodge.”
“Thanks awfully!” Splodge said. “Do you mind if I have a taste now?” He licked his lips at the very thought of that delicious meal.
“Well — well — I’d rather you waited for the party,” Mrs Koala replied. “We want to make the food look as much as possible,”
“Quite so. Quite so,” Splodge replied, licking his lips all the more.
“What do you think? I met Mrs Froggles down at the creek. She had her family of taddies with her, and fine lads they are too!” Mrs Koala carefully spread her watercress on the ground, giving Splodge a doubtful look at the same time.
“You didn’t ask Mrs Froggles and the tads to the party, did you, mother?” Blinky inquired.
“Yes. The dear thing’s coming. And how excited she was at the thought of it,” Mrs Koala replied.
“Oh bother! Now I’ll have to catch spiders and flies,” Blinky growled, “and I s’pose the tads only eat mossies.”
“No. She’s going to bring her own flies,” Mrs Koala explained. “I told her we usually threw any flies or spiders away that we found on the tree.”
“Here’s a special gum-nut for you, Mrs Koala,” Nutsy said as she handed out an extra large nut from her pocket.
“Such unselfishness I’ve never seen before,” Mrs Koala said as she took the nut.
“That’s what I hate about girls,” Blinky whispered to Splodge. “Always trying to be pets!”
“That’s what I hate about girls.”
“Men haven’t time to bother about that,” Splodge replied — “specially policemen. By the way, Blinky where’s your baton?”
“Should I have one? And what is a baton?” Blinky asked.
“It’s a piece of wood, that dangles from your belt. All real policemen carry one. It’s for banging people on the head who don’t behave,” Splodge explained.
“Gee! I’ll have to have one,” Blinky replied thoughtfully.
“Leave it to your assistant. H
e’ll see to that!” Splodge announced, bounding away into the bush.
“He’s a real fellar!” Blinky said to himself.
“Come children, we’ll wait up in the tree until the guests arrive,” Mrs Koala said as she placed the last gum-leaf on the table. So up the tree they all climbed, and sat waiting anxiously for the first visitor to appear. Who should it be but old Wombo!
“Good night Wombo!” Blinky called out. “Read the notice.”
Mr Wombat being near-sighted had to screw his old eyes right up against the notice to read.
“Are there any peanuts?” he asked immediately.
“No! But there are gum-nuts!” Nutsy called out.
“And watercress!” Blinky shouted.
“Watercress!” Old Wombo sprang at the table.
“Leave it alone! Leave it alone!” Mrs Koala screamed. “It’s not supper time yet.” But old Wombo already had a mouthful of the luscious green.
“Put it back!” Blinky shouted. Mrs Koala was already halfway down the tree to rescue her precious dainty. “How rude of you!” she said angrily. “Eating up our party before the guests arrive.”
“I thought I was to have supper,” old Wombo said in a surprised voice. “And it was so nice.”
“Oh well — as you’re very old I’ll overlook it this time,” Mrs Koala said kindly. “But please don’t eat any more.”
“Funny sort of a party,” old Wombo growled to himself as he sat on the ground to wait.
The next visitor to appear was Mrs Wallaby. She carried a baby in her pouch.
“I’m glad to hear you’re back, Mrs Koala,” she said with a sweet smile.
“We’re giving a tree-warming,” Mrs Koala replied. “Do stay and have some supper.”
By this time the news of the great event had been flashed through the bush, and animals and birds arrived in dozens — Mr and Mrs Possum, several families of wallabies, the kangaroos of course, flying foxes, rabbits, weasels, mice and bush rats, kookaburras and willy wagtails. Away in a tree all by himself sat Mr Owl, looking at everything and everyone in silence.
“I didn’t expect so many friends,” Mrs Koala said nervously. “I’m afraid we won’t have enough to eat, and I’ve no grubs for the birds.”
“We’ll all bring our own!” several birds called, and flew off to gather their supper.
“I’m going to eat that watercress,” old Wombo growled to himself.
Meanwhile Splodge had returned and fastened a knotty stick to Blinky’s belt. “Just to keep order in case it’s needed,” he explained.
When the supper commenced, Nutsy helped Mrs Koala by handing round the nuts. The guests were at their gayest, calling and squeaking at the fun of it all. In the excitement of chatter and hopping, no one noticed old Wombo silently gobbling all the watercress round at the back of the tree. He munched with delight; then, when he had finished, took a last look at the visitors, turned, and slowly ambled home.
“Look at the ants!” someone cried. Immediately there was confusion. “Where? Where?” they shouted. Blinky grabbed his baton and rushed in the direction where all the guests pointed.
Dozens and dozens, in fact hundreds of ants stood on tiptoe, surveying the scene. Their antennae waved with excitement as they thought of the grubs and flies that could easily be theirs when they decided to advance.
“Hey! you fellows!” Blinky called out, swinging his baton, “Get back to your dug-outs.”
The ants took no notice whatever.
“Don’t-you-know-we’ve-an-ant-eater-with-us?” he asked deliberately, “and he’ll eat you all in one swallow.” As he delivered this dreadful news he banged his baton down on the ground with a — crash!
Quicker than that every ant had vanished.
“That scared them!” Blinky chuckled and walked back to the party, feeling very proud of himself; but no sooner was he there than a piteous cry went up.
“Quickly! Quickly! He’s choking!” Poor Mrs Froggles was beside herself with fright. She hopped all over the place, on the table, over the guests’ heads, and right into Mrs Kangaroo’s pouch. All in mistake of course.
“Get out! Get out!” Mrs Kangaroo screamed, as she took a leap over Mr Pelican’s head. Out flopped Mrs Froggles, her eyes, that usually popped, now seemed to be almost out of her head.
“Save him! Save him!” she croaked louder than ever.
“What’s the matter?” everyone asked in chorus. “My poor child — my eldest taddy — he’s choking. A grub’s stuck in his throat,” Mrs Froggles croaked between hops.
Nutsy rushed to the rescue. Grabbing Freddie Taddy who was black in the face, she turned him upside down and shook him violently.
“You greedy little wriggler!” she scolded, shaking all the harder.
“Hey! you fellows!”
“Thump him on the back!” someone called.
Nutsy did so, and out popped a grub almost as large as Freddie Taddy himself, while he lay on the ground gasping for breath.
“Throw some water over him,” Mrs Magpie advised. But there was no water near.
“I’ll make him come to life in a second,” a nasty crawly voice remarked, “or it’s supper for me, and no mistake.”
With a horrified cry everyone ran, for there lay Mr Carpet Snake eyeing poor little Freddie with a cruel look in his eyes. How he came to the party unnoticed no one ever knew.
“You greedy little wriggler!” she scolded, shaking all the harder.
Mrs Froggles gave one ear-splitting croak and fainted.
“Get your baton out!” Splodge called to Blinky. Scarcely were the words out, when Blinky rushed to the rescue. Waving his baton over his head and calling out at the top of his voice, he made a vicious blow at Mr Carpet Snake. He missed. A groan went up from the excited spectators and all kinds of advice was shouted at him.
Mr Snake reared his head and prepared to spring. Mrs Koala and Nutsy screamed. Blinky was ready to strike again, when something came flashing through the air, struck Mr Carpet Snake on the head, and there stood Splodge.
“That was a good kick!” he calmly remarked, as he looked at the body of the dead snake.
Everyone rushed to congratulate him, patted him on the back and nose, until Splodge reminded them that poor little Freddie Taddy was still on the ground. He was saved and, after some gentle stroking, soon recovered. Mrs Froggles decided to go home at once, as sixty children were too many to watch at one time. So calling her taddies to her side, she ordered them to hop on her back and away she went, croaking loudly.
The party ended by those who were able to climb or fly inspecting the old gum-tree and wishing its occupants the best of luck.
When all was silent, and three little bears lay cuddled together in sweet sleep, an army of ants dined on Mr Carpet Snake. Such a supper they’d not had for a long time. And, after it, a constant stream of black and brown bodies carried little pieces of Mr Snake down to their home underneath the ground.
All day long the three bears slept. Mrs Koala snored a great deal; once she even woke herself up with the noise. Turning to look at Blinky whom she was sure had made the noise, she sighed and murmured:
“Poor little chap — he has adenoids very badly. I’ll have to see Dr Owl about it.” Then, snuggling down again, she fell asleep once more.
At dusk, when the bears were awake, and busily collecting their supper, Mrs Grunty came along. She was alone, having left Snubby, her son, at home; for “Goodness knows what mischief that bad boy Blinky will put in his mind after being in the zoo,” she said.
“Nice goings on in the tree last night!” she exclaimed, before she’d even said “How do you do,” or any other polite greeting to her friend who had been absent for so long.
“Oh, how are you? I’m very pleased to see you again, Mrs Grunty,” Mrs Koala said sweetly.
“Nice goings on!” Mrs Grunty repeated. “We’ll have our bush talked about next. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised to hear you were letting the gum-tree out in flats.”
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“Nice goings on!”
“You seem all worked up,” Mrs Koala replied coldly. “Can’t a widow bear give a tree-warming if she wants to?” “Such city notions!” Mrs Grunty scoffed. “And I was not invited.”
“Everyone was invited,” Mrs Koala replied. “Didn’t you read the notice?”
“Me read the notice!” Mrs Grunty sniffed. “As if I’d have time to go round the bush reading notices. I was far too busy turning the heel of Snubby’s new winter socks.”
“Dear, dear, I’m sorry,” Mrs Koala said meekly. “I know how busy children keep one.”
“Especially one like you’ve got,” Mrs Grunty snapped. “She’ll be sorry for saying that!” Blinky exclaimed from behind the tree where he and Nutsy were hiding. “She’s always poking about and saying ‘noxious, nauseous, nasty things. And as for her Snubby — he’s a twink!”
“What’s that?” Nutsy whispered.
“Something awful and dreadful,” Blinky replied, while Nutsy looked at him in wonder.
“How shocking!” she said in a whisper.
“Yes! and I’ll be just as pleased, Mrs Koala, if you tell that Blinky of yours to keep away from our tree.” Mrs Grunty flung these words at her friend as she prepared to depart.
“Pass me that stick!” Blinky ordered Nutsy.
“Good night, madam!” Mrs Grunty said, just as Blinky poked the stick right in front of her feet. She tripped, stumbled and fell, wildly clutching at a branch to save her fall, then turning a somersault landed on the limb of the tree immediately below.
“She’s come a cropper!” Blinky shouted at the top of his voice, while Mrs Grunty roared with temper. To make matters fifty times worse, Nutsy threw down a pawful of gum-nuts right on top of Mrs Grunty.
She tripped, stumbled and fell.
“I’ll see the policeman about this! I hear we’ve got a policeman in the bush now! I’ll have you punished. I’ll have you exported!” Mrs Grunty shouted as she regained her feet and climbed down the tree.
“Who threw those nuts?” Mrs Koala demanded. “And who made the cropper?” She waggled her paw at the two culprits.