Read Online Enid Blyton by Adventures of Mr Pink-Whistle - Free Book Online

told anyone—and his mother certainly hadn't, for she would be too much ashamed of her son to say such a thing.
    "How do you know?" he demanded angrily.
    "You've got it on your back," shouted the children in glee.
    Wilfrid tore the paper off his back and looked at it. How he scowled when he saw what was printed there! But how could it have got on his back? And who could have written that sentence?
    He tore the paper into little pieces and stuffed them into a litter bin. Then he stamped off angrily. Just wait till he caught anyone pinning paper on his back again! He kept turning round quickly to make sure that no one was creeping behind him.
    Soon he met Alison, and she had a bag of sweets. "Give me one!" said Wilfrid.
    "No," said Alison bravely. Wilfrid  gave her such a pinch that she squealed loudly and ran away, hugging her bag of sweets and crying.
    Well, you can guess that it wasn't more than half a minute before Mr. Pink-Whistle had pinned another sheet of paper on Wilfrid's back! This time it said, in bold black letters :

    "I HAVE PINCHED ALISON AND MADE HER CRY."

    Every one who saw it looked surprised —and then grinned. "What a nasty little boy that must be!" they thought. They wondered if he knew that he had the paper on his back. He didn't know at first—but as soon as he met some other children, he knew at once!
    For they danced around him, shouting, "You pinched Alison! You horrid boy! You pinched Alison and made her cry!”

    "How do you know?" shouted Wilfrid. "Did she tell tales of me?"
    "No—you're telling tales about yourself!" yelled back the children, keeping a good distance away from the angry little boy. He at once felt round at his back and tore off the paper. When he read what was written he was rather frightened. He felt quite certain that no one had been near enough to him to pin on that paper—he had been keeping a good watch. Then how did it get on his back?
    Wilfrid thought he would go home. He didn't like these queer happenings at all. It wasn't a bit funny suddenly to have horrid things pinned on his back for people to laugh it. He ran home quickly.
    His mother was out in the garden. Wilfrid thought that no one else was in the house, so he crept to the jam cupboard, and looked for a pot of strawberry jam. He didn't know that Mr. Pink-Whistle was just behind him, quite invisible! The naughty boy ran off with the jam and sat down under a bush in the front garden to enjoy it.
    Mr. Pink-Whistle busily wrote on another sheet of paper, then sat down beside Wilfrid, and pinned it gently on his back. The boy couldn't see Mr. Pink-Whistle, of course, and he was so busy with the jam that he didn't even hear the very slight rustle of the paper.
    He finished the jam and went indoors, and as soon as he turned round his mother saw what was pinned on his back:
    "I HAVE STOLEN A POT OF STRAWBERRY JAM."
    "Oh, have you!" said Wilfrid's mother, and she went to her jam cupboard to look. Sure enough a pot was gone.
    "Wilfrid! You bad boy! You've taken my jam!" she cried. "Go straight upstairs to bed and stay there for the rest of the day! Go quickly before I smack you!"
    Wilfrid rushed upstairs, for his mother was really very angry indeed. He took his coat off to undress—and saw the notice that said so plainly,"I HAVE STOLEN A POT OF STRAWBERRY JAM."
    Wilfrid stared at it, frightened. Who had seen him take the jam? Who had pinned that notice on him? It was magic. It couldn't be anything else. Wilfrid began to cry.
    "Oh, it's all very well to cry," said the voice of Mr. Pink-Whistle in the bedroom.
    "You cry just because you are frightened—not because you are sorry. You are a very horrid, rude, and mean little boy."
    "Oh, who's speaking to me?" asked Wilfrid, staring all round the room and seeing nobody. "I'm so frightened. Please, please, don't pin any more notices on me. I can't bear it."

    "I shall go on pinning notices on you just as long as you do things that deserve it," said Mr. Pink-Whistle. "I say