Read Online Adventures of a Cat-Whiskered Girl by Daniel Pinkwater - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Daniel Pinkwater
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powers?"
"You mean like knowing things about people before they tell me, and knowing what they are thinking?"
"For example," Chicken Nancy said.
"I thought that was just part of being crazy. Isn't it?"
"What am I thinking right now?" Chicken Nancy asked.
"You are thinking it's a pity I didn't come along sooner so you could set me straight."
"I am. But it's not too late. And by the way, remember how you used to be crazy?"
"Sure, until you cured me with that special tea."
"That was Lipton's from the store. You were never really crazy to begin with. It's just that nobody ever explained things to you. You just needed to stop
thinking you were crazy. I hope you will forgive my little deception."
I have to admit, I felt a little jealous. Chicken Nancy was so nice to Molly. I wished I thought I was crazy or needed to have things explained to me too.
"Oh, you're just as mixed up as I am," Molly said to me. "There's plenty you don't understand."
"Oh, yes, the mind-reading thing," I said. "Well, I would like to know about that picture."
"The one of you?" Molly asked.
"The one of Elizabeth Van Vreemdeling," I said. "It's not me."
"Well, there is a striking resemblance," Chicken Nancy said. She had gotten the picture out of the drawer, and we looked at it. In the candlelight, it looked real and alive, and exactly like me.
"That's because it's you," Molly said.
"I don't know why you keep saying that," I said.
"Because it's a picture of you," Molly said.
"Look, unless Chicken Nancy is playing an elaborate joke on me..."
"Which I would never do," Chicken Nancy said.
"...then it is a portrait of a girl who lived well over a century ago."
"And yet you and she are one and the same," Molly said.
"And you think this because?"
"Because look at the evidence," Molly said. "Here is the picture, and here are you, right in front of me."
"Besides my having absolutely no recollection of being Elizabeth Van Vreemdeling, how do you account for the fact that if I were she, I would be older than Chicken Nancy?"
"How old are you, anyway?" Molly asked.
"It's a funny thing," I said. "I don't exactly know. Fourteen, fifteen, somewhere in my teens. You see, Uncle Father Palabra, who raised me, is a retired monk, and even though he is retired he spends a fair amount of time in prayer or being silent, meditating and the like. I always assumed that was why he never told me a lot about my own history. He has various monkish ways about him. For example, we never celebrated our birthdaysâinstead, we would celebrate the birthdays of Saint Pussycat, who has nine per year."
"Saint Pussycat?"
"A saint Uncle Father likes especially. I'm not sure if she is an official saint. My earliest memory is of reading about Saint Pussycat in one of Uncle Father's books."
Molly was grinning. "So you don't know your right age, and the first thing you can remember happened when you were already able to read."
"I see where you're going with this," I said. "And while I don't know my
exact
age, I think it is pretty obvious that I am not over a hundred years old, so I am obviously not Elizabeth Van Vreemdeling."
"It's not terribly likely," Chicken Nancy said. "But I wouldn't rule it out completely. It is more likely that you are her doppelganger."
"What's a doppelganger?"
"Person who is exactly like you," Chicken Nancy said. "Some people believe each of us has one. Maybe Elizabeth Van Vreemdeling is yours."
"Who was she exactly?" Molly asked Chicken Nancy. "Tell us about her."
CHAPTER 25
Elizabeth's Story
"Cups of tea, I think," Chicken Nancy said. "And then I will tell you what I know about Elizabeth Van Vreemdeling, and after that I think it will be time for us to sleep." Chicken Nancy poured out cups of tea. We sat at the table, sipping and listening, with Weer snoring at our feet.
"First, Elizabeth Van Vreemdeling was not actually a member of the family. She just turned up at Spookhuizen under mysterious circumstances and wound up
"You mean like knowing things about people before they tell me, and knowing what they are thinking?"
"For example," Chicken Nancy said.
"I thought that was just part of being crazy. Isn't it?"
"What am I thinking right now?" Chicken Nancy asked.
"You are thinking it's a pity I didn't come along sooner so you could set me straight."
"I am. But it's not too late. And by the way, remember how you used to be crazy?"
"Sure, until you cured me with that special tea."
"That was Lipton's from the store. You were never really crazy to begin with. It's just that nobody ever explained things to you. You just needed to stop
thinking you were crazy. I hope you will forgive my little deception."
I have to admit, I felt a little jealous. Chicken Nancy was so nice to Molly. I wished I thought I was crazy or needed to have things explained to me too.
"Oh, you're just as mixed up as I am," Molly said to me. "There's plenty you don't understand."
"Oh, yes, the mind-reading thing," I said. "Well, I would like to know about that picture."
"The one of you?" Molly asked.
"The one of Elizabeth Van Vreemdeling," I said. "It's not me."
"Well, there is a striking resemblance," Chicken Nancy said. She had gotten the picture out of the drawer, and we looked at it. In the candlelight, it looked real and alive, and exactly like me.
"That's because it's you," Molly said.
"I don't know why you keep saying that," I said.
"Because it's a picture of you," Molly said.
"Look, unless Chicken Nancy is playing an elaborate joke on me..."
"Which I would never do," Chicken Nancy said.
"...then it is a portrait of a girl who lived well over a century ago."
"And yet you and she are one and the same," Molly said.
"And you think this because?"
"Because look at the evidence," Molly said. "Here is the picture, and here are you, right in front of me."
"Besides my having absolutely no recollection of being Elizabeth Van Vreemdeling, how do you account for the fact that if I were she, I would be older than Chicken Nancy?"
"How old are you, anyway?" Molly asked.
"It's a funny thing," I said. "I don't exactly know. Fourteen, fifteen, somewhere in my teens. You see, Uncle Father Palabra, who raised me, is a retired monk, and even though he is retired he spends a fair amount of time in prayer or being silent, meditating and the like. I always assumed that was why he never told me a lot about my own history. He has various monkish ways about him. For example, we never celebrated our birthdaysâinstead, we would celebrate the birthdays of Saint Pussycat, who has nine per year."
"Saint Pussycat?"
"A saint Uncle Father likes especially. I'm not sure if she is an official saint. My earliest memory is of reading about Saint Pussycat in one of Uncle Father's books."
Molly was grinning. "So you don't know your right age, and the first thing you can remember happened when you were already able to read."
"I see where you're going with this," I said. "And while I don't know my
exact
age, I think it is pretty obvious that I am not over a hundred years old, so I am obviously not Elizabeth Van Vreemdeling."
"It's not terribly likely," Chicken Nancy said. "But I wouldn't rule it out completely. It is more likely that you are her doppelganger."
"What's a doppelganger?"
"Person who is exactly like you," Chicken Nancy said. "Some people believe each of us has one. Maybe Elizabeth Van Vreemdeling is yours."
"Who was she exactly?" Molly asked Chicken Nancy. "Tell us about her."
CHAPTER 25
Elizabeth's Story
"Cups of tea, I think," Chicken Nancy said. "And then I will tell you what I know about Elizabeth Van Vreemdeling, and after that I think it will be time for us to sleep." Chicken Nancy poured out cups of tea. We sat at the table, sipping and listening, with Weer snoring at our feet.
"First, Elizabeth Van Vreemdeling was not actually a member of the family. She just turned up at Spookhuizen under mysterious circumstances and wound up
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