THE WUMPLE DOODLE

Sun (Auckland), Volume 1, Issue 98, 16 July 1927, Page 21

THE WUMPLE DOODLE

Christopher Caterpillar was cleaning his boots. “Oh, clear!” he sighed, “that’s only the sixth pair—I shall be late for school, as usual. 1 don’t think it’s tair that .1 should have so many legs. I don’t get along any quicker. Why, Professor Snail goes nearly as fast as I do, and he has his house to carry!” “Besides,” he grumbled, “there’s always at one pair of boots that want mending, and tnen Bad gets cross, but 1 can’t help it.” “Bate again i ' said Professor Snail, when Christopher got to school. “Please, sir, l couldn’t help it,” said Christopher. “.Nonsense,” snapped the Professor, You should start earlier. Book at me, 1 always start tor everything at least two clays early.” When Christopher came out of school that afternoon, lie said to Himself, “I’ve nad enough oi tins. 1 shall go and see Lne Wumpie hoodie about tnis.” The Wumpie Boodle is a wise and wonderful creature. He is so big, that ne is simply everywhere at once, out if you want ins help, you have only to call out, “Wumpie Bourne,” tnree times, anu there he is beside you, exactly the same size as yoursen. Christopher ciimoea up to the top of the Highest moie-liill he could find. “Wumpie ouoaie: wumpie Boodle! Wumpie .noodle!” ne shouted. “Well, what do you want?” answered a voice beside him, and there was the Yvumpie Boodle, sitting on a clock leaf. “if you please,” said Christopher, “it’s aDOut my legs.” "Wnats tne matter with them?” ” There are so many,' explained Christopher, "aim yet a m always late for school, if you could help me—” “Wait!” said tne Wumpie Boodle. So they both sat very still and quiet for a long time. At last the Wumpie Boodle said Vv mgs!” “Wings?” repeated Christopher. “ 1 es, ‘ saiu the Vvumpie Boodle, climbing on tne dock leaf. “Wings.” "But i don’t understand,” cried Christopher— -That’s all,” said the Wumpie Boodle, beginning to get as big as everything again. . , . “Oh. please, please,” cried Christopher, please do explain!” “Wings.” came the vvumpie Boodle’s voice, irom everywhere at once. Weil, Christopher thought about it. and thought about it, but he could not understand what the Wumpie Boodle meant. At last he said: "1 shall go away all by myself, and 1 won’t do anything but think, and I won’t come back until I do understand.” So he found a quiet place to hide, and because it was cold he made himself a coat with a hood that covered him all over. Then*, to be quite sure, he wriggled himself right into the ground. “Now, he said, “I’m going to think. Bet me see. Wings. Y'es—great, big beautiful wings. With spots? Or not with spots? Anyhow, wings, w ” and then he fell asleep. When he woke up he felt very funny. “How tight this coat is.” he said, and he began to struggle out of it. “I don’t feel the same.” he said, doubtfully, when at last he got out. H© felt so strange that he peeped into a raindrop lying in a leaf to see what he looked like. “Oh. gracious!” he cried. “Oh, gracious goodness! ! It feels like me. It must be me. But how can it be me? I’ve got wings! I’ve got treat, big. beautiful wings, bigger than myself! ! Oh, I must go and tell mother!” Away he flew home, but it was a long time before even his mother and father knew him. When at last they did. they thought it was such a splendid idea to get wings instead of all those legs that they and all the other caterpillars began to do it. And that was the beginning of butterflies. TOADSTOOL TOWN Red and yellow, green and brown, ! Are the huts in Toadstool Town; Narrow is the winding street. Fit for tiny Elfin feet. Thro’ the town a sleepy rill Wanders down from Fungus Hill: While all around, the bracken trees i Sway and rustle in the breeze.