Read Online The Last of the Really Great Whangdoodles by Julie Andrews - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Julie Andrews
Ads: Link
But after that I don't know."
"Tree Squeaks?"
"Rather nasty little creatures, Ben. I hope we can avoid them."
"Are they dangerous?" Lindy quickly asked. "I've never met them, Lindy. But I've heard they're terrible tattletales."
Tom said, "Why does the river make that sweet singing noise?"
"If you think that's unusual, put your hand in the water and stir it around," said the professor.
Tom knelt at the river's edge and splashed with his hand. The movement made the river change its gentle tune to a series of thrilling, 'rippling sounds.
The professor bent and picked up a stone. "Here, Lindy, throw this. See what happens."
She hurled the stone as far as she could. It landed in the water with a splash and chords of music rang in the air for several seconds.
Ben said, "That's incredible. I don't understand why that should happen."
"Why not?" replied the professor. "I told you not to expect anything ordinary in Whangdoodleland." He shielded his eyes. "Look, children," he cried excitedly. "The Whiffle Bird is coming."
In the distant sky something was rolling and tumbling and soaring and dipping in a most peculiar manner.
The professor chuckled. "She never could fly properly. I don't know how she manages at all. She has so many feathers, you see. She's totally uncoordinated."
The children watched as the Whiffle Bird approached. Her long, fluffy feathers were being blown about in all directions. It was impossible to see a head or a tail or even feet in the feathery profusion.
The Whiffle Bird made a stumbling and very undignified landing onto the branch of a nearby tree and proceeded to shake and shuffle herself into some kind of order. It was not until she settled down that the children were able to see how truly beautiful she was. Her plumage was a brilliant rainbow of colors—red, pink, yellow, orange and purple. She was a silky bird, rustling and smooth, and she gave out a delicate perfume that reminded the children of orange blossoms on a summer evening.
"Greetings, my dear Whiffle Bird," said the professor. "It is a great pleasure to see you again. Won't you come down and join us? I would like to introduce you to my friends."
The bird jumped a foot into the air as he spoke, and every feather flew up and got tangled and had to be rearranged all over again. She retreated along the branch making odd little humming sounds.
The professor stepped forward. "You're looking very pretty," he said. "In fact, I don't think I've ever seen you look so lovely. Dear Whiffle Bird. Sweet Whiffle Bird. Won't you come down and say hello?"
The Whiffle Bird gave a few startled squeaks and turned around and around on the branch. It was impossible for the children to tell which end of her was which.
Quite suddenly she leaned forward, or perhaps it was backward, and somersaulted out of the tree and down to the ground, landing just in front of the professor.
"That's very gracious of you," the professor said, kneeling beside her. "The children and I are so glad you came by." He held out his hand to Lindy. "May I introduce Miss Melinda Potter."
Lindy knelt beside the professor. "Hello, Whiffle Bird. You are the prettiest thing I have ever seen."
The Whiffle Bird began her humming sounds again.
"These young gentlemen are Benjamin and Thomas Potter."
"How do you do," Ben said courteously.
Tom felt a trifle embarrassed and said in a gruff voice, "Hello, bird."
All of a sudden the children noticed two tiny birdlike hands coming through the beautiful feathers. As if holding a curtain to one side the hands parted the waving plumage and they saw two jet-black beady eyes peering out at them.
Lindy cried, "Oh, professor, how sweet she is. I wish there were something I could give her. What does she like to eat?"
"Just feed her compliments and she'll be perfectly happy."
Tom said dryly, "In that case she's probably full up already."
The Whiffle Bird suddenly flew into the air and landed on Tom's shoulder. He was taken completely by
"Tree Squeaks?"
"Rather nasty little creatures, Ben. I hope we can avoid them."
"Are they dangerous?" Lindy quickly asked. "I've never met them, Lindy. But I've heard they're terrible tattletales."
Tom said, "Why does the river make that sweet singing noise?"
"If you think that's unusual, put your hand in the water and stir it around," said the professor.
Tom knelt at the river's edge and splashed with his hand. The movement made the river change its gentle tune to a series of thrilling, 'rippling sounds.
The professor bent and picked up a stone. "Here, Lindy, throw this. See what happens."
She hurled the stone as far as she could. It landed in the water with a splash and chords of music rang in the air for several seconds.
Ben said, "That's incredible. I don't understand why that should happen."
"Why not?" replied the professor. "I told you not to expect anything ordinary in Whangdoodleland." He shielded his eyes. "Look, children," he cried excitedly. "The Whiffle Bird is coming."
In the distant sky something was rolling and tumbling and soaring and dipping in a most peculiar manner.
The professor chuckled. "She never could fly properly. I don't know how she manages at all. She has so many feathers, you see. She's totally uncoordinated."
The children watched as the Whiffle Bird approached. Her long, fluffy feathers were being blown about in all directions. It was impossible to see a head or a tail or even feet in the feathery profusion.
The Whiffle Bird made a stumbling and very undignified landing onto the branch of a nearby tree and proceeded to shake and shuffle herself into some kind of order. It was not until she settled down that the children were able to see how truly beautiful she was. Her plumage was a brilliant rainbow of colors—red, pink, yellow, orange and purple. She was a silky bird, rustling and smooth, and she gave out a delicate perfume that reminded the children of orange blossoms on a summer evening.
"Greetings, my dear Whiffle Bird," said the professor. "It is a great pleasure to see you again. Won't you come down and join us? I would like to introduce you to my friends."
The bird jumped a foot into the air as he spoke, and every feather flew up and got tangled and had to be rearranged all over again. She retreated along the branch making odd little humming sounds.
The professor stepped forward. "You're looking very pretty," he said. "In fact, I don't think I've ever seen you look so lovely. Dear Whiffle Bird. Sweet Whiffle Bird. Won't you come down and say hello?"
The Whiffle Bird gave a few startled squeaks and turned around and around on the branch. It was impossible for the children to tell which end of her was which.
Quite suddenly she leaned forward, or perhaps it was backward, and somersaulted out of the tree and down to the ground, landing just in front of the professor.
"That's very gracious of you," the professor said, kneeling beside her. "The children and I are so glad you came by." He held out his hand to Lindy. "May I introduce Miss Melinda Potter."
Lindy knelt beside the professor. "Hello, Whiffle Bird. You are the prettiest thing I have ever seen."
The Whiffle Bird began her humming sounds again.
"These young gentlemen are Benjamin and Thomas Potter."
"How do you do," Ben said courteously.
Tom felt a trifle embarrassed and said in a gruff voice, "Hello, bird."
All of a sudden the children noticed two tiny birdlike hands coming through the beautiful feathers. As if holding a curtain to one side the hands parted the waving plumage and they saw two jet-black beady eyes peering out at them.
Lindy cried, "Oh, professor, how sweet she is. I wish there were something I could give her. What does she like to eat?"
"Just feed her compliments and she'll be perfectly happy."
Tom said dryly, "In that case she's probably full up already."
The Whiffle Bird suddenly flew into the air and landed on Tom's shoulder. He was taken completely by
Similar Books
