Read Online Paddington Novels 1-3 by Michael Bond - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Michael Bond
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And then there was this noisy crowd in the box. He sighed to himself. It was obviously going to be one of those nights.
But if Sir Sealy Bloom’s heart was not in the play, Paddington’s certainly was. He soon forgot about his wasted twenty pence and devoted all his attention to the plot. He decided quite early on that he didn’t like Sir Sealy Bloom and he stared at him hard through his opera glasses. He followed his every move and when, at the end of the first act, Sir Sealy, in the part of the hard-hearted father, turned his daughter out into the world without a penny, Paddington stood up on his chair and waved his programme indignantly at the stage.
Paddington was a surprising bear in many ways and he had a strong sense of right and wrong. As the curtain came down he placed his opera glasses firmly on the ledge and climbed off his seat.
“Are you enjoying it, Paddington?” asked Mr Brown.
“It’s very interesting,” said Paddington. He had a determined note to his voice and Mrs Brown looked at him sharply. She was beginning to recognise that tone and it worried her.
“Where are you going, dear?” she asked, as he made for the door of the box.
“Oh, just for a walk,” said Paddington, vaguely.
“Well, don’t be too long,” she called, as the door closed behind him. “You don’t want to miss any of the second act.”
“Oh, don’t fuss, Mary,” said Mr Brown. “I expect he just wants to stretch his legs or something. He’s probably gone out to the cloakroom.”
But at that moment Paddington was going, not in the direction of the cloakroom, but towards a door leading to the back of the theatre. It was marked P RIVATE . A RTISTS ONLY . As he pushed the door open and passed through, he immediately found himself in an entirely different world. There were no red plush seats; everything was very bare. Lots of ropes hung down from the roof, pieces ofscenery were stacked against the walls, and everyone seemed in a great hurry. Normally Paddington would have been most interested in everything, but now he had a purposeful look on his face.
Seeing a man bending over some scenery, he walked over and tapped him on the shoulder. “Excuse me,” he said. “Can you tell me where the man is?”
The scene hand went on working. “Man?” he said. “ What man?”
“ The man,” said Paddington, patiently.”The nasty man.”
“Oh, you mean Sir Sealy.” The scene hand pointed towards a long corridor. “He’s in his dressing-room. You’d better not go disturbing him ’cause he’s not in a very good mood.” He looked up. “Hey!” he cried. “You’re not supposed to be in here. Who let you in?”
Paddington was too far away to answer even if he had heard. He was already half-way up the corridor, looking closely at all the doors. Eventually he came to one with a large star on itand the words S IR S EALY B LOOM in big gold letters. Paddington drew a deep breath and then knocked loudly. There was no reply, so he knocked again. Still there was no reply, and so, very cautiously, he pushed open the door with his paw.
“Go away!” said a booming voice. “I don’t want to see anyone.”
Paddington peered round the door. Sir Sealy Bloom was lying stretched out on a long couch. He looked tired and cross. He opened one eye and gazed at Paddington.
“I’m not signing any autographs,” he growled.
“I don’t want your autograph,” said Paddington, fixing him with a hard stare. “I wouldn’t want your autograph if I had my autograph book, and I haven’t got my autograph book so there!”
Sir Sealy sat up. “You don’t want my autograph?” he said, in a surprised voice. “But everyone always wants my autograph!”
“Well, I don’t,” said Paddington. “I’ve come to tell you to take your daughter back!” He gulped the last few words. The great man seemed to have grown to about twice the size he had been on thestage, and he looked as if he was going to explode at any minute.
Sir
But if Sir Sealy Bloom’s heart was not in the play, Paddington’s certainly was. He soon forgot about his wasted twenty pence and devoted all his attention to the plot. He decided quite early on that he didn’t like Sir Sealy Bloom and he stared at him hard through his opera glasses. He followed his every move and when, at the end of the first act, Sir Sealy, in the part of the hard-hearted father, turned his daughter out into the world without a penny, Paddington stood up on his chair and waved his programme indignantly at the stage.
Paddington was a surprising bear in many ways and he had a strong sense of right and wrong. As the curtain came down he placed his opera glasses firmly on the ledge and climbed off his seat.
“Are you enjoying it, Paddington?” asked Mr Brown.
“It’s very interesting,” said Paddington. He had a determined note to his voice and Mrs Brown looked at him sharply. She was beginning to recognise that tone and it worried her.
“Where are you going, dear?” she asked, as he made for the door of the box.
“Oh, just for a walk,” said Paddington, vaguely.
“Well, don’t be too long,” she called, as the door closed behind him. “You don’t want to miss any of the second act.”
“Oh, don’t fuss, Mary,” said Mr Brown. “I expect he just wants to stretch his legs or something. He’s probably gone out to the cloakroom.”
But at that moment Paddington was going, not in the direction of the cloakroom, but towards a door leading to the back of the theatre. It was marked P RIVATE . A RTISTS ONLY . As he pushed the door open and passed through, he immediately found himself in an entirely different world. There were no red plush seats; everything was very bare. Lots of ropes hung down from the roof, pieces ofscenery were stacked against the walls, and everyone seemed in a great hurry. Normally Paddington would have been most interested in everything, but now he had a purposeful look on his face.
Seeing a man bending over some scenery, he walked over and tapped him on the shoulder. “Excuse me,” he said. “Can you tell me where the man is?”
The scene hand went on working. “Man?” he said. “ What man?”
“ The man,” said Paddington, patiently.”The nasty man.”
“Oh, you mean Sir Sealy.” The scene hand pointed towards a long corridor. “He’s in his dressing-room. You’d better not go disturbing him ’cause he’s not in a very good mood.” He looked up. “Hey!” he cried. “You’re not supposed to be in here. Who let you in?”
Paddington was too far away to answer even if he had heard. He was already half-way up the corridor, looking closely at all the doors. Eventually he came to one with a large star on itand the words S IR S EALY B LOOM in big gold letters. Paddington drew a deep breath and then knocked loudly. There was no reply, so he knocked again. Still there was no reply, and so, very cautiously, he pushed open the door with his paw.
“Go away!” said a booming voice. “I don’t want to see anyone.”
Paddington peered round the door. Sir Sealy Bloom was lying stretched out on a long couch. He looked tired and cross. He opened one eye and gazed at Paddington.
“I’m not signing any autographs,” he growled.
“I don’t want your autograph,” said Paddington, fixing him with a hard stare. “I wouldn’t want your autograph if I had my autograph book, and I haven’t got my autograph book so there!”
Sir Sealy sat up. “You don’t want my autograph?” he said, in a surprised voice. “But everyone always wants my autograph!”
“Well, I don’t,” said Paddington. “I’ve come to tell you to take your daughter back!” He gulped the last few words. The great man seemed to have grown to about twice the size he had been on thestage, and he looked as if he was going to explode at any minute.
Sir
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