Read Online Paddington Novels 1-3 by Michael Bond - Free Book Online
Authors: Michael Bond
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his seat in the front row. All the same, he was pleased to see she had given him the one nearest the stage. He’d already sent a postcard to his Aunt Lucy with a carefully drawn copy of a plan of the theatre, which he’d found in one of Mr Gruber’s books, and a small cross in one corner marked ‘ MY SEET ’.
The theatre was quite full and Paddington waved to the people down below. Much to Mrs Brown’s embarrassment, several of them pointed and waved back.
“I do wish he wouldn’t be quite so friendly,” she whispered to Mr Brown.
“Wouldn’t you like to take off your duffel coat now?” asked Mr Brown. “It’ll be cold when you go out again.”
Paddington climbed up and stood on his chair. “I think perhaps I will,” he said. “It’s getting warm.”
Judy started to help him off with it. “Mind my marmalade sandwich!” cried Paddington, as she placed it on the ledge in front of him. But it was too late. He looked round guiltily.
“Crikey!” said Jonathan. “It’s fallen on someone’s head!” He looked over the edge of the box. “It’s that man with the bald head. He looks jolly cross.”
“Oh, Paddington!” Mrs Brown looked despairingly at him. “Do you have to bring marmalade sandwiches to the theatre?”
“It’s all right,” said Paddington, cheerfully. “I’ve some more in the other pocket if anyone wants one. They’re a bit squashed, I’m afraid, because I sat on them in the car.”
“There seems to be some sort of a row going on down below,” said Mr Brown, craning his head to look over the edge. “Some chap just waved his fist at me. And what’s all this about marmaladesandwiches?” Mr Brown was a bit slow on the uptake sometimes.
“Nothing, dear,” said Mrs Brown, hastily. She decided to let the matter drop. It was much easier in the long run.
In any case, Paddington was having a great struggle with himself over some opera glasses. He had just seen a little box in front of him marked OPERA GLASSES. TWENTY PENCE . Eventually, after a great deal of thought, he unlocked his suitcase and from a secret compartment withdrew twenty pence.
“I don’t think much of these,” he said, a moment later, looking through them at the audience. “Everyone looks smaller.”
“You’ve got them the wrong way round, silly,” said Jonathan.
“Well, I still don’t think much of them,” said Paddington, turning them round. “I wouldn’t have bought them if I’d known. Still,” he added, after a moment’s thought, “they might come in useful next time.”
Just as he began to speak the overture came to an end and the curtain rose. The scene was theliving-room of a large house, and Sir Sealy Bloom, in the part of the village squire, was pacing up and down. There was a round of applause from the audience.
“You don’t take them home,” whispered Judy. “You have to put them back when you leave.”
“ WHAT !” cried Paddington, in a loud voice. Several calls of ‘hush’ came from the darkened theatre as Sir Sealy Bloom paused and looked pointedly in the direction of the Browns’ box. “Do you mean to say…” words failed Paddington for the moment. “ Twenty pence !” he said bitterly. “That’s two buns’ worth.” He turned his gaze on Sir Sealy Bloom.
Sir Sealy Bloom looked rather irritable. He didn’t like first nights, and this one in particular had started badly. He had a nasty feeling about it. He much preferred playing the hero, where he had the sympathy of the audience, and in this play he was the villain. Being the first night of the play, he wasn’t at all sure of some of his lines. To make matters worse, he had arrived at the theatre only to discover that the prompt boy was missing and there was noone else to take his place. Then there was the disturbance in the stalls just before the curtain went up. Something to do with a marmalade sandwich, so the stage manager had said. Of course, that was all nonsense, but still, it was very disturbing.
The theatre was quite full and Paddington waved to the people down below. Much to Mrs Brown’s embarrassment, several of them pointed and waved back.
“I do wish he wouldn’t be quite so friendly,” she whispered to Mr Brown.
“Wouldn’t you like to take off your duffel coat now?” asked Mr Brown. “It’ll be cold when you go out again.”
Paddington climbed up and stood on his chair. “I think perhaps I will,” he said. “It’s getting warm.”
Judy started to help him off with it. “Mind my marmalade sandwich!” cried Paddington, as she placed it on the ledge in front of him. But it was too late. He looked round guiltily.
“Crikey!” said Jonathan. “It’s fallen on someone’s head!” He looked over the edge of the box. “It’s that man with the bald head. He looks jolly cross.”
“Oh, Paddington!” Mrs Brown looked despairingly at him. “Do you have to bring marmalade sandwiches to the theatre?”
“It’s all right,” said Paddington, cheerfully. “I’ve some more in the other pocket if anyone wants one. They’re a bit squashed, I’m afraid, because I sat on them in the car.”
“There seems to be some sort of a row going on down below,” said Mr Brown, craning his head to look over the edge. “Some chap just waved his fist at me. And what’s all this about marmaladesandwiches?” Mr Brown was a bit slow on the uptake sometimes.
“Nothing, dear,” said Mrs Brown, hastily. She decided to let the matter drop. It was much easier in the long run.
In any case, Paddington was having a great struggle with himself over some opera glasses. He had just seen a little box in front of him marked OPERA GLASSES. TWENTY PENCE . Eventually, after a great deal of thought, he unlocked his suitcase and from a secret compartment withdrew twenty pence.
“I don’t think much of these,” he said, a moment later, looking through them at the audience. “Everyone looks smaller.”
“You’ve got them the wrong way round, silly,” said Jonathan.
“Well, I still don’t think much of them,” said Paddington, turning them round. “I wouldn’t have bought them if I’d known. Still,” he added, after a moment’s thought, “they might come in useful next time.”
Just as he began to speak the overture came to an end and the curtain rose. The scene was theliving-room of a large house, and Sir Sealy Bloom, in the part of the village squire, was pacing up and down. There was a round of applause from the audience.
“You don’t take them home,” whispered Judy. “You have to put them back when you leave.”
“ WHAT !” cried Paddington, in a loud voice. Several calls of ‘hush’ came from the darkened theatre as Sir Sealy Bloom paused and looked pointedly in the direction of the Browns’ box. “Do you mean to say…” words failed Paddington for the moment. “ Twenty pence !” he said bitterly. “That’s two buns’ worth.” He turned his gaze on Sir Sealy Bloom.
Sir Sealy Bloom looked rather irritable. He didn’t like first nights, and this one in particular had started badly. He had a nasty feeling about it. He much preferred playing the hero, where he had the sympathy of the audience, and in this play he was the villain. Being the first night of the play, he wasn’t at all sure of some of his lines. To make matters worse, he had arrived at the theatre only to discover that the prompt boy was missing and there was noone else to take his place. Then there was the disturbance in the stalls just before the curtain went up. Something to do with a marmalade sandwich, so the stage manager had said. Of course, that was all nonsense, but still, it was very disturbing.
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