Читать книгу Mister Meddle's Muddles - Enid blyton - Страница 5

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Did you ever hear about Mister Meddle and the bull? It’s really rather funny.

Well, one day Mister Meddle got up feeling good. “I’d like to do a good deed to-day,” he thought. “I’d like to help an old woman across the road, or carry a heavy parcel for someone, or jump into the river and save somebody from drowning. I feel good enough for all those things.”

He went out to do his shopping as usual, and he looked about for a runaway horse that he could stop. But all his horses trotted along properly and not one ran away. So that was no good.

Then he walked by the river to see if anyone would fall in so that he could rescue them. But nobody did.

Then he looked about for anyone carrying a heavy parcel, but the only person he saw was Mr. Grumps, so he pretended not to notice he was carrying anything at all.

He waited about to see if any old ladies wanted to be helped over the road, but all the old ladies he saw seemed quite able to run across by themselves. So that wasn’t any good either.

Mister Meddle was most disappointed. He went home by the fields, and in the distance he saw Farmer Barley, and he thought he would ask him if he could help him at all. The farmer was in the next field but one, so Mister Meddle opened the gate of the nearest field and shut it behind him, meaning to walk across to see the farmer.

The farmer heard the click of the gate and turned to look over the hedge to see who it was.

“I say!” began Meddle, shouting loudly. “Do you want ...”

But Farmer Barley didn’t wait to hear what Meddle said. He yelled over the hedge:

“Mind that bull!”

Meddle looked all round, but he couldn’t see any bull. The farmer shouted again.

“Didn’t you hear me telling you to mind that bull?”

“Now why does he want me to mind his bull?” wondered Meddle. “Oh—I suppose he wants to go home to his dinner or something, and would like me to mind the bull for him whilst he goes. Well, as I’m looking for something good to do, I’ll do what he says.”

Meddle yelled back to Farmer Barley, “All right. I’ll mind the bull! Don’t worry!”

“Right!” said the farmer, and went off down the field towards his farm. Meddle still couldn’t see any bull, though he looked hard.

But the bull had seen him! It was in a little cluster of trees, and it didn’t like the look of Meddle at all!

Meddle suddenly saw the bull looking at him. He decided that it didn’t look a very kind animal.

“In fact, it looks rather fierce,” thought Meddle. “Well, I’ll mind it for the farmer, but I hope it won’t try to run away, or anything, because I should just hate to try and bring it back.”

The bull glared at Meddle and snorted down its nose.

“You needn’t do that at me,” said Meddle to the bull. “That’s a rude noise to make at anyone minding you. Don’t worry. I shan’t come any nearer to you. I shall stay here and you can stay there.”

But the bull didn’t think the same as Meddle! It came out of the trees with a run and snorted at Meddle again, whisking its big tail up into the air.

“I wonder if bulls are pleased when they wag their tails,” thought Meddle, feeling rather uncomfortable. “Dogs are, I know—but this bull doesn’t look at all pleased as he wags his tail. Not one bit pleased. In fact, he looks awfully angry.”

Meddle moved away a bit. The bull moved a little nearer and gave such an alarming snort that Meddle almost jumped out of his skin.

“You’re making it very difficult for me to mind you!” he shouted to the bull. “Do behave yourself. I’m only minding you till the farmer comes back.”

The bull made up his mind that he couldn’t bear Meddle in his field one minute longer. So he snorted again and ran headlong at him, putting his head down in a horrid manner. Meddle took one look at the bull’s horns and fled!

How he ran! He tore to the gate with the bull after him, and got there just as the bull did. The bull tried to help him over the gate with his horns and tore Meddle’s trousers, making a big hole. Meddle tumbled to the other side of the gate with a bump. The bull put his head over the top bar and snorted all over Meddle.

“You are a disgusting and most ungrateful animal,” said Meddle angrily. “Look what you’ve done to my trousers! And all because I was doing a good deed and minding you for the farmer. Well—I’m not minding you any more, so you can just do what you like! I’m going to complain about you to the farmer!”

So Meddle marched off to the farmhouse, feeling very angry indeed. He rapped on the door and the farmer opened it.

“What’s the matter?” he asked.

“Plenty!” said Meddle. “Look at my trousers—new last week, and that bull of yours chased me and tore them!”

“Well, I told you to mind him,” said the farmer. “You should have got out of the field before he came for you.”

“Well, I thought it would be better to mind him for you in the field,” said Meddle. “That’s what comes of trying to do you a good turn.”

“What’s all this about a good turn?” said the farmer, astonished. “I didn’t want you to do me a good turn! I wanted you to get out of that field as quickly as possible before the bull turned on you. When I told you to mind the bull I meant you to look out that he didn’t chase you!”

“Well, why didn’t you say so?” said Meddle, in a rage. He turned to go and nearly fell over a fat pig.

“Mind that pig now—mind that pig!” cried the farmer.

Poor Meddle! He does get into trouble, doesn’t he!