Part 4

The first cook came up the gate and yelled to the Gatekeeper, "I bring my delicious ugberry pie for the King's banquet!" The King heard this and thought that ugberry pie would be perfect for such an event (and he knew that he would love to eat the leftovers). Because he didn't want anything to happen to the ugberry pie, the King yelled "Yes!" and then asked him to go fetch it.

The next cook stepped up to the gate. "I offer the King grukie soup!" he said. The King didn't like grukie soup very much and he knew just how to get rid of it. "No!" he yelled and then sent No out to retrieve the soup. No dropped the soup before the King could even smell it.

This went on for hours. If the king liked a dish, he would yell "Yes!" and it would be included in the night's feast. If he did not, everyone would hear a loud "NO!" and the dish would be destroyed moments later by a servant with a very bad attitude.

Pretty soon this started catching on around the kingdom, for if a King does something, his loyal subjects are never far behind. If the villagers didn't want a second scoop of potatoes, they would say "No." And if they liked what someone was offering, they would say, "Yes." And ever since that day in a small village in a small kingdom, Yes has meant yes, and No has meant no.

This small kingdom also happened to be the birthplace of Yes and No's cousins, Please and Thanks, but that is another story for another time...

XXXII

THE THREE BROTHERS OF MALADIME

From the Valley of Lingus to the River Waduckus, To the mystical Mountains of Huckus Amuckus, From the Shores of Madiddy to the Applestone Sea, No tale's as famous as the Troll Brothers Three.

Their small little hut was in Old Maladime. Their tempers were short and they fought all the time. One day their Mother had seen more than enough. She packed up her Hackeling bag with her stuff.

She slammed the front door with a sigh and a huff. Without her around, they fought even more rough. (But do not be worried for the Troll Brother's fate. Trolls are grown up by the time they turn eight.)

Later the smallest, named Small Itty Brother, Came in with a note from the Three Brother's Mother. The next biggest brother grabbed the note right away. "I'll read this letter," he started to say.

"No you will not, Sorta Kinda Big Brother, The biggest should read it, that's me and no other." They both sat and listened to Brother Enormous "It seems that our mother wrote this to inform us."

"She's splitting us up, since we fight everyday. And our Troll Dad agrees that there's no other way. One of us trolls has to leave by the morning, And also she added a personal warning."

"If no one has left by the time she comes back, She'll eat us all up for her afternoon snack!" (Now even though trolls are ugly and tough, I assure you this warning was merely a bluff.)

The Trolls became panicked--one had to go! Who should it be? And how would they know? The Three Troll Brothers all started to shout. Itty proclaimed, "You two can't kick me out!"

Sorta Kinda Big Brother was yelling now, too. "If someone must leave, it should be one of you." Brother Enormous said, "It won't be me! You can't push me out, you just wait and see!"

Then Itty thought of his best idea ever. It was mean and despicable, but also real clever. "It you two don't leave," Itty said with a laugh, "I'll take all your clothes and I'll tear them in half."

Sorta Kinda Big Brother answered back with a squeak, "You tore all the pants that I own just last week! Now if someone won't pack and get out of this hut, I'll taunt both of you till your ears will slam shut."

Brother Enormous just laughed as he spoke. "You already do that, this must be a joke. Now leave or I'll pick you both up by your toes, And then I'll stick Wickerloo bugs up your nose."

Itty said, "Well, I would like to see how, Since you already did--there are two up there now!"

"Hmmmmm," said Itty Brother. "Hmmmmm," said Kinda Sorta Big Brother. "Hmmmmm," said Brother Enormous.

They realized the truth, each one by one. There was nothing to do that hadn't been done. But what would occur when their Mother got in? Whenever she argued, they just couldn't win.

It seems that they'd have to try something quite new, And stick with each other till it was all through.

When Troll Mom came home, she got a surprise: No loud sounds of yelling, no insults, or cries. Small Itty Brother was sewing up clothes, While Brother Enormous pulled bugs from his nose.

Kinda Sorta Big Brother was just very kind. Three better brothers would be hard to find. When she asked who was leaving, they simply refused. Needless to say, this left her confused.

"When we weren't being horrible," said Itty Brother, "We found that we actually like one another." She smiled when they said there would be no more fighting, But as she hugged them, she asked if they'd put that in writing.

XXXIII

TREMENDOUS STUPENDOUS!

It was the day that Farmer Duff waited for all year round: Today was Family Funday Sunday! The kids came rushing onto the farm as soon as the gates opened. They fed the goats. They rode the horses. They watched the pigs roll in the mud and tried to jump in with them. The rest of the day was spent running away from the goats who were looking for more food.

When everyone had left, all the animals gathered in the barn to fall asleep. Just as the last chick had closed its eyes, and everything was silent, all of a sudden... BOOM! CRRRRACK!

Something fell from the ceiling into a pile of hay. The dog started barking loudly and the chickens ran in circles, bumping into each other. Then the something on the floor started moving and dusting itself off. It had the oddest little vest and a very tall top hat. (How it had stayed on his head, we'll never know.)

"Please excuse my entrance, all my furry little friends. Give me just a moment and I'll try to make amends," said the something with a hat and vest.

Then he pulled out from his vest an old wooden spoon. He waved it at the ceiling and said, "TREMENDOUS STUPENDOUS!" And with that, the roof was fixed, just like new. "Where did you come from?" asked the sheep. "How'd you'd that!" said the dog.

"I arrived today from Walden where I lived inside their Zoo. I was raised in Southern France, but I was born in Timbuktu."

About this time the hawk and the blue jay came to see what had made all the noise. (The hawk never went anywhere without his friend, the blue jay.) They sat high up on the windowsill and watched below. "That's all well and good," said the hawk, "But who are you?"

"How rude of me--my name is Ferret R. Fable," he said as he bowed. Ferret R. Fable adjusted his vest and removed his hat, carefully placing it in the middle of the floor.

"I've traveled far to bring this here, and leave you all a treat-- My famous stew, like none before, the greatest you will eat!"

And with a wave of his spoon over the large hat, he roared, "TREMENDOUS STUPENDOUS!"

The hat was magically filled with a stew that smelled delicious to every single animal in the barn (which is hard to do because the pigs and the sheep never agree on a meal). One by one the animals came up to the hat. "I don't think it's wise to eat from this ferret's magic hat," said the blue jay. "I would find out what's in that stew before I ate it," said the hawk. But no one listened.

The pigs slopped the stew up. The dog slurped it off the floor. One goat liked it so much that he gobbled up the ferret's hat, as well. "It's delicious!" said the horse, "The best I've ever had. It's ...it's...." "TREMENDOUS STUPENDOUS!" cried the dog. "Can you make us some more?"

"Of course I can, dog, I'm Ferret R. Fable! I'll bring a new batch as soon as I'm able. I take credit cards, checks, and cash does just fine, If you'll stand to my left and please form a straight line."

All the animals looked at each other. "But we have no money," said the dog. Ferret R. Fable didn't say a word. He just held out his hand, and the goat coughed up his hat. Then he put the spoon back in his vest and he walked towards the door.

"But we have food," said the horse in a soft little voice. Ferret suddenly stopped and scratched at his head.

"For your food," said the ferret, "I'll give you a trade. I'll share with you all how this stew can be made."

The hawk tried to stop them, "That deal is horrendous!" But it was too late, "TREMENDOUS STUPENDOUS!"

With a flash, the ferret was gone. He took all the grain, all the oats, all the apples, all the carrots, all the chickenfeed, and the slop and the hay. (How he carried it all off, nobody knows.) All that was left in the barn was a note. The dog picked it up and read it aloud: Recipe for Tremendous Stupendous Stew --1 Part Carrot --2 Parts Apple --A bag full of grain --A bucket of slop --Some hay and some chickenfeed sprinkled on top

The animals looked around for the ingredients, but there wasn't a scrap of food left. Realizing what a bad mistake they had made, they cried themselves to sleep.

The next morning Farmer Duff woke up and saw that all the food was gone. (How they'd eaten all of the food on the farm in one night, he couldn't imagine.) He spent the whole afternoon gathering food from the market. The animals worked all day without anything to eat, except for the blue jay and hawk who dug for worms. (If you've ever tried to work on an empty stomach, then you know how terrible that can be.)

Afterwards, when all the animals were tired and hungry, the farmer gave them a plate full of the only scraps he could find at the market. Then the blue jay asked all the exhausted animals, "How does it taste?" "TREMENDOUS STUPENDOUS!" they happily replied. And they ate till their bellies were full.

XXXIV

WHY THE CRICKET CHIRPS

Before things were the way they are, the cricket could fly. He flew faster than the bumblebee. He flew higher than the falcon. And he flew fancier than the flying marmaduck (who was quite a fancy flier).

The cricket wanted to fly all over the world. He flew to the East. Then he flew to the West. And then he flew to the South. But he had never flown to the North.

The ant tried to warn him that he should not try. "It's very cold up north," said the ant, "It's too cold for an ant and too cold for a cricket."

The cricket, however, did not listen to the ant, because crickets do whatever they want. He set off for the North that very night. It did not take him long to get there because he was such a fantastically fast and fancy flier.

The cricket landed next to a pine tree as the sun began setting. There was snow everywhere he looked. There was snow on the trees. There was snow on the ground. And there was snow on top of the mountains.

The moose came walking over to him very slowly. He spoke even more slowly. "Ohhhh...Hello," said the moose. "Bundle up, nighttime is coming." The cricket, however, did not listen to the moose because crickets do whatever they want.

He flew up into a pine tree to settle in for a good sleep. It did not take him long to get there because he was such an incredibly fast and fancy flier. The owl came flying over to the same branch. "You should find some shelter from the cold night," said the owl. The cricket, however, did not listen to the owl because crickets do whatever they want.

He crawled away from the owl and the branch, and he rested on a pile of twigs. All the remarkably fast and fancy flying made him sleepier than he had ever been. The cricket slept all through the night until morning.

When he woke up, he was ready to go back home and tell the ant about his trip. He hopped high in the air to start flying, but he couldn't. Instead, he fell right back into the snow. He hopped again, even higher this time, but his wings would not work. They had been frozen solid during the cold night.

He tried to warm them up by rubbing them together, but it was no use. The cricket had no choice but to hop all the way home. It took him days and days to return. By the time he got back, his wings had almost become unfrozen.

But it is important to know that wings are very special and very fragile, which is why the greatest care should always be taken around them. They are not meant to be frozen, and once they are, they may never be the same again.

So even though the cricket's wings were no longer frozen, they still could not fly anymore. And ever since then, the cricket stays on the ground like his friend the ant, and he hops from place to place. And now the cricket is the fastest and fanciest hopper there is.

At nighttime, you can hear him chirping from rubbing his wings together to keep warm. But he is doing much more than just that: At bedtime, the cricket is telling you how warm or cold it is by his chirping. He chirps faster when it is warm, and he chirps slower when it is cold. This way you will not make the same mistake that he did. However, that is only if you decide to listen*.

* Dolbear's Law states that if you count the number of times a cricket chirps in 15 seconds and add 40, it will give you (roughly) the temperature in degrees Fahrenheit.

XXXV

WILL YOU WALK MY WIKOSH?

I'm terribly sorry, but if you wouldn't mind, Could you please feed the mazonias that I must leave behind?

I'll be back in a week from my trip to Mount Poe, And they cannot come with me, for they shiver in snow.

They're wonderful plants--they won't give you much trouble. Just give them a drink and a hubble-gum bubble.

And just before bed, sing the mazzaloo song. But watch out! They get mad if the song is sung wrong.

To anger mazonias is not very wise. If you're close, they will try to throw dirt in your eyes.

You know that I really do hate to impose, I just need to make sure my mazonia patch grows.

There are more things to do while you're thinging about. You could pet the galosh and then let the wug out.

Or just leave them alone, if you aren't in the mood. But ignoring galoshes and wugs is quite rude.

A galosh that gets petted, grows beautiful hair. Unpetted galoshes get sad and go bare.

When Wugs are inside they curl up into balls. If they don't go outside, they start bouncing off walls.

And will you walk my Wikosh (it won't be very tough). If you don't, he'll get bored and might hide all my stuff.

His favorite is watching me search all around, And when I find things, he lets out a "Wik-Woshing" sound.

Would you do one more thing, as a favor to me? My Dugalug gets a bit lonely, you see.

He's a great checkers player, but he doesn't like losing. He's also a cheater, so don't get caught snoozing.

And would you please fill the tub for my green sprinter fish? But watch out for the splash of his flipping tail swish.

I know I can trust you. You won't let me down. Would you watch them again, next time I leave town?

XXXVI

WOOLLY NOT SO MAMMOTH

By the Arctic Ocean, atop a frozen lake, Above the icy water and the sheets of snowy flake,

A Woolly Mammoth mother walked her son, Elan, to school. She combed his hair, said goodbye, and wiped a little drool.

Elan was not so large, as far as woolly mammoths go. His friends thought he was puny, and they always told him so.

And although he tried his hardest, he never really grew. Perhaps there was a special trick that bigger mammoths knew.

His biggest friend would tell him, so he tapped him during class. Their teacher wasn't watching, so he tried to talk real fast.

"How'd you get so big," he asked, "I'd really like to know. Tell me what the secret is, tell me how to grow."

"Well, my father is a mammoth, and my mother is one, too. It's all about your family--if they're big, so are you."

When Elan went home he asked his dad, "Why am I so small? You're enormous, so is mom. Shouldn't I be tall?"

"It's simple," said his father, "like I've told you all along, Eat your veggies, drink your milk, and you'll be big and strong.

"No way!" he thought, "Not a chance! Veggies are the worst. And my brother, Eli, never eats them. I should've asked him first"

"I know you're really busy, Eli, but I need some advice. How can I get bigger (and quickly would be nice)?"

"Take naps," his brother said, "Sleeping is the key. Sleeping lets your body grow. Just take a look at me!"

But napping like his brother meant he'd never be awake. Asking other mammoths was a terrible mistake.

So Elan gave up on growing, it was such a waste of time. Size was overrated; being short would do just fine.

And every night he laid in bed, happy with his fate. Until one day the bed collapsed, broken by his weight.

It was time that made him mammoth, and it would not, could not, hurry. There was never any need for him to panic or to worry.

A woolly mammoth mother walked her son, Elan, to school. He was healthy and enormous, but his mom still wiped his drool.

XXXVII

WORSTDAY BIRTHDAY PARTY

Today was the day that my sister turned eight. At times it was sour, but started off great.

We disguised the surprise of a party at night. The balloons filled the room, which was really a sight.

By request every guest came around to the back, To ensure, that for her, the surprise stayed intact.

And at five she arrived, so we all started cheering. Grandma Beau didn't know (she was quite hard of hearing).

We were greeted and treated by Lee the Magician, But no one, not one of us, sat down to listen.

My mother said brother had taken the cake. "Don't bother," said father who started to bake.

In an hour the flour was dry on his face. The splatter of batter soon covered the place.

He had, for a dad, done an excellent job. I knew this was true when I tasted a glob.

Amazed by the glaze that was mixed in the icing, We agreed that to feed us, this cake would need slicing.

But Tim dug right in and he ate like a hog. He was done, leaving none, which upset "Rash" the dog.

I was there in a chair when the presents came out. Sister shook from one look and she started to pout.

Whatever upset her, the gifts weren't enough. It was clear from the tears that she wanted more stuff.

A fifth of the gifts got thrown out in the trash. She messed with the rest and then gave them to "Rash".

She broke every spoke on the new bike they gave her. By then all her friends had walked out with a favor.

But dad always has his own great back-up plan, And to keep it a secret, he held one gift in hand.

I could tell from her yell, as he gave her one more, That this was the gift she had been waiting for.

Her tears, it was clear, had completely diminished. The pouting and shouting were pretty much finished.

I crept when she slept, and I gave it a look-- Very odd, not a rod, just a new fishing hook.

What I saw dropped my jaw, what a strange birthday wish! It appears that for years she'd been learning to fish.