Читать книгу Hello, Mr. Twiddle! - Enid blyton - Страница 3

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One day Mrs. Twiddle asked Mr. Twiddle to go and fetch her brother’s cow for her.

“Albert, my brother, is going away,” she said, “and I told him we would look after his cow for a day or two, Twiddle. So you go and fetch it, and we’ll keep it in the field behind the house. It will be nice to have some fresh milk for nothing.”

Mr. Twiddle put down his paper and got up with a sigh. There always seemed something to do just when he was nicely settled. He brushed his hair, stuffed a clean handkerchief into his pocket, and went to the door.

“Twiddle, don’t forget your hat,” said Mrs. Twiddle. “I believe you’d forget to take your head with you if it wasn’t so firmly fixed on.”

“I don’t want my hat,” said Mr. Twiddle.

“You must take your hat!” said Mrs. Twiddle firmly. “The sun is going to be hot.”

So Twiddle had to take his hat. But he felt rather obstinate that morning and he made up his mind that although he had to take his hat, he wouldn’t wear it. No, he’d carry it in his hand! Aha, Mrs. Twiddle, you’d be cross if you saw that!

It was a nice hat, for it was a new one. It was brown, and had a fine brown ribbon round it, tied in a bow at the side. It fitted Mr. Twiddle perfectly. Secretly Mr. Twiddle thought he looked extremely nice in his new hat, and he quite meant to put it on if he met any one. But he didn’t.

He got to the field and called the cow. The cow, a gentle creature who knew him well, came to the gate at once. Mr. Twiddle tied a rope round her neck and led her off.

He hadn’t gone far before his shoelace came undone. Mr. Twiddle looked down at it. He had his hat in one hand and the cow’s rope in the other. What was he to do?

“I must just hang my hat up somewhere,” said Mr. Twiddle, in a dreamy voice, for he was hot and rather sleepy. He looked for something to hang his hat up on, and saw the cow’s horns, looking just like the hall-pegs at home on which he always hung his hat.

Mr. Twiddle put his hat on the horns of the surprised cow. Then he knelt down and did up his shoelace, very cleverly, with one hand.

“Ha!” he said proudly, when he had finished. “Some folks may call me a stupid man—but it isn’t many who could tie a lace with one hand!”

He walked on with the cow, feeling quite pleased with himself. The cow came gently after him, wearing the brown hat, looking very comical indeed. But Mr. Twiddle had forgotten all about his hat.

It wasn’t until the sun shone down really hotly on his head that he felt he needed a hat. He put his hand up to his head and found no hat there. He looked at his two hands. Now what had happened to his hat? He had certainly started out with it!

“Oh, bother, bother, bother!” said Mr. Twiddle. “I must have left it on the gate where I fetched the cow!”

So back he went, the cow still following, Mr. Twiddle’s hat perched up on her horns. Soon they met Mrs. Gabble, and how she laughed to see the cow!

“Sorry I can’t raise my hat to you this morning,” said Mr. Twiddle politely, “but I’ve put it somewhere and forgotten it!”

“Ho, ho, so you have!” giggled Mrs. Gabble, and she laughed till the tears ran down her cheek.

The next person Mr. Twiddle met was Dame Shoo, and she looked quite alarmed when she saw Mr. Twiddle without a hat and the cow with one.

“Just going to look for my hat, Dame Shoo,” said Mr. Twiddle politely. “You know, I’ve left it somewhere about, and I must find it.”

“Ask the cow and maybe she’ll tell you where it is,” said Dame Shoo with a squeal of laughter.

Mr. Twiddle looked crossly at her. “Silly woman!” he thought. “Ask the cow indeed! As if she could tell me where my hat is!”

Then he met Mr. Wonks, the hot-sausage man who sold ice-creams in the summer.

“Good-day, Mr. Twiddle!” said Mr. Wonks, grinning at the cow. “Hot weather for the cow, isn’t it! I see you don’t want her to get a headache.”

Mr. Twiddle stared at him in amazement. What could Mr. Wonks mean?

“You must be mad, Mr. Wonks,” said Mr. Twiddle, in a high and mighty voice. “Cows don’t get headaches.”

“No, nor sunstroke either, by the look of things!” grinned Mr. Wonks.

Mr. Twiddle said no more. He began to think that the sun had made every one a little mad this morning. He got to the field-gate, but alas! there was no hat to be seen. Mr. Twiddle was upset. Some one must have been along and taken it!

“My nice new hat too!” he said mournfully. “What, oh, what, will Mrs. Twiddle say?”

He went home so upset that he didn’t notice how every one laughed at the cow with the hat on. He took the cow round to the back door, to show Mrs. Twiddle, for she was fond of the gentle creature.

As soon as Mrs. Twiddle opened the door, Mr. Twiddle began to explain about his hat.

“I’m so very sorry,” he said, “but somehow or other I seem to have lost my hat. Maybe it blew away—maybe some one stole it—I don’t know what happened. But, anyway, I’m very sorry, my dear, and I’ll go and buy a new one this very minute. I do wish I knew what had happened to it.”

“If you look behind you, you’ll see that the cow had more sense than you,” cried his wife. “She knew how to bring a hat home, anyhow!”

Twiddle turned and looked at the cow. He saw his hat perched on her horns. The cow opened her mouth and spoke gently.

“Moo-oo!” she said, “moo-oo!” And she waggled her head gently, asking Mr. Twiddle to take off the hat, for it annoyed her.

“Oh, the clever creature!” cried Mr. Twiddle, in the greatest delight. “Mrs. Twiddle, do you see, she has got my hat for me! She must have found it and put it on, and brought it all the way home for me! Now isn’t that really remarkably clever? I must go and tell every one about this most extraordinary cow.”

And with that Mr. Twiddle beamed all over his face, gave his wife a good slap and kissed the cow on the nose.

“Sorry, dear, sorry!” he said, as he saw Mrs. Twiddle looking as black as thunder. “I meant to kiss you and slap the cow, I did really!”

And, clapping his hat on his head upside down, he hurried off to tell every one the story of how the cow had found his hat and worn it home. Dear old Twiddle, he is a muddler, isn’t he!