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Authors: Mr Pink-Whistle's Party

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BOOK: Enid Blyton
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"Now then! You stop that! I'll report you!" shouted the little park-keeper angrily. "Get my cap!"

"Get it yourself!" said one of the boys. "Report us! Why, you don't even know our names!"

The park-keeper ran at him, but the boy dodged and took to his heels, followed by his friend. They could run fast and they disappeared round the bushes at top speed.

"They've not gone home," said another boy. "I bet they're waiting till the park-keeper's gone, then they'll be here again. I wish a policeman would come."

The park-keeper went off, fuming with rage, and the children began to play again. Pink-Whistle kept a careful watch—were those bad boys anywhere near? He hoped so. He was going to have a bit of fun with them!

Yes—they were there—in those bushes. Ah—here they come, giggling and pushing one another. They ran at a boy with a cricket bat and pulled it out of his hand. They took a ball from someone else and began to have a game. If anyone came near they swiped at him with the bat.

Pink-Whistle got up. He was still invisible, and he walked among the children unseen. He went up to the big boy with the bat and twisted it out of his hand. The boy stared in amazement. "Here—who took my bat?

Hey—what's happening?"

Pink-Whistle was holding the bat—but as he was invisible, it looked just as if the bat were hanging by itself in the air! Pink-Whistle raised it and gave the boy a smart rap behind with it. The boy yelled.

Then Pink-Whistle snatched off the boy's cap, and ran away with it.

It looked strange to see a cap bobbing along by itself in the air! Pink-Whistle, put it on the head of the little statue on the water-fountain. How strange it was to see a cap put itself there! Nobody could see Pink-Whistle, of course.

The little man went back to the two surprised boys. He undid the tie belonging to the second boy—and dear me, away went that tie through the air, too, blowing in the wind as Pink-Whistle carried it in his hand! He tied it high up in a bush.

"Here! What's happening?" cried the two boys, beginning to be scared. "Let's take the ship and go home!"

But now the invisible Pink-Whistle was back again, and took the p himself, right out of the hand of one of the big boys! He walked over to the boy who owned it, and put it into his hand. It looked exactly as if the boat had flown by itself through the air to its owner!

" MY SHOES " YELLED THE BOY. " LOOK, MY SHOES "

The two boys began to run—but Pink-Whistle ran too. He caught each of them by their belts, and down they went. They were bruised, and one burst into sobs. As the boy sat there Pink-Whistle undid his shoes and slid them off—and to everyone's amazement, the shoes appeared to trot through the air all by themselves! "My shoes!" yelled the boy. "Look, my shoes!"

Somebody snatched at the shoes as they travelled through the air, held by the invisible Mr. Pink-Whistle, and threw them into the pond—splash—splash! They sank at once.

"Oh good! That's what those boys did to my doll!' cried the girl with the pram. Everyone began to laugh. They pointed at the two boys, who had now got up from the ground, "It serves you right, it serves you right!" they cried

One of the big boys lost his temper, and rushed at a boy playing with a ball. He kicked it right out of his hands, and it rose in the air, and went into a tree. It stayed there, caught in a branch.

"That's my new ball!" yelled the little boy.

"He'll get it for you!" cried a voice that seemed to come from nowhere. "Go on, you big bully, climb the tree and get the ball!*' And the invisible Mr. Pink-Whistle ran the big boy to the tree, caught hold of him by his shorts and jerked him up. He pushed him and prodded him, and the boy, yelling with fright, found himself forced to climb up and get the ball.

It bounced down, the big boy began to climb down himself—but dear me, what was this? A circle of angry children closed round the bottom of the tree, and a boy with a bat raised it high.

"What a chance to give him back some of the biffs he gave us!" he cried. "Come on, bully—climb down—see what will happen to you then!"

The big boy yelled to his friend. "Come and help me, come on!" But his friend was no longer there! He had run off at top speed, scared at all these queer happenings.

The first boy climbed back into the tree again, and sat up there, shivering with fright, looking down at the children waiting for him. Was all this a horrid dream?

A little whisper went round. "I say—can it be Mr. Pink-Whistle doing all this? You know—it might be!"

Ooooh! Mr.
Pink-Whistle.
The children stared at one another and then looked all round. But they couldn't see him, of course. "Please, please, if you're here, let us see you!" cried the little girl with the pram. "We know all about you!"

Pink-Whistle was pleased. Now, how did they know all about him?

He muttered the magic words that made him become visible again— and the watching children saw a shadow first of all, and then a shape— and then Mr. Pink-Whistle himself smiling all over his face! They crowded round him in joy.

"You always put things right, don't you! Oh, Mr. Pink-Whistle, we never thought
you’d
be here this morning! You
did
give those boys a fright!"

Mr. Pink-Whistle saw an ice-cream man coming along, riding down the path with his little cart. He called him. "Ice-creams for everyone, please," he said.

The boy up the tree sat listening in amazement. Yes—
he
had heard about Mr. Pink-Whistle, too. Goodness—to think he had been behaving so badly when the little man came by! He felt ashamed and afraid. He began to slide gently down the tree, hoping to creep away unseen and go home.

But he suddenly saw something at the bottom of the tree, and stopped.

It was a dog! Had Mr. Pink-Whistle put it there to wait for him and bite him? The boy clambered back again at top speed, and looked longingly at the big ice-creams.

Pink-Whistle hadn't put a dog there, of course. One of the small boys had placed his toy dog there while he went to eat his ice-cream— and will you believe it, he forgot all about it, and left it there, at the foot of the tree.

Soon all the children went with Mr. Pink-Whistle to the bus-stop, and the scared boy up the tree was left alone, guarded by a toy dog! And there he stayed till the park-keeper came along and found him.

"Good-bye," said Pink-Whistle, to the delighted children, as he climbed into the bus. "Don't worry about those boys any more. Just say

'Now where's Mr. Pink-Whistle?' if you have any trouble—and they'll run like the wind! Good-bye!"

CHAPTER VI

MR. PINK-WHISTLE HAS 
A PEEP

EVERY day when Mr. Pink-Whistle had to go down to the village to do a bit of shopping, he passed a small house.

One evening when he passed it, the curtains were not drawn, but there was a light inside, so that Mr. Pink-Whistle couldn't help seeing into the room.

It was a playroom. He could see that because the wall paper was a nursery rhyme one, there was a big rocking-horse in a corner, and a doll's house on the floor. A golliwog sat on a cupboard and a doll's cot stood by the wall.

How Pink-Whistle loved playrooms. He thought toy trains and rocking-horses and toy farms and bricks were lovely. So he had a very good look inside.

And after that, every time he passed the playroom he took a peep. He knew the children wouldn't mind, because all children love old Pink-Whistle.

Two little girls lived in the playroom. Mr. Pink-Whistle thought they must be twins, and he was right. One was Rose and the other was Daisy.

They played together every single day when they came back from school.

When Mr. Pink-Whistle peeped in at the window the girls were always playing the same game. They were playing with their dolls.

They had a very large family of dolls. If you asked them the names of their family they could tell you straight off.

"Angela, Josephine, Rosemary, Jennifer, Sambo the black doll, and, of course, Baby, the baby doll. It's too young to have a name."

Mr. Pink-Whistle loved to see Rose and Daisy with their dolls. They dressed and undressed them, they bathed them, they powdered them, they even filled a bottle with what looked like milk and tried to feed the baby doll with it.

ROSE AND DAISY HAD A LARGE FAMILY OF DOLLS.

"How they love their dolls!" thought Mr. Pink-Whistle. "I wonder if their mother has a baby—these two children could almost look after it for her!"

But she hadn't. She only had Rose and Daisy, and they were nine years old. They each had a pram for their dolls and took them out for walks. They washed their dolls' clothes, and Mummy even let them iron them. Really, Pink-Whistle got a great deal of fun in peeping at Rose and Daisy and seeing all they did.

Then one day he passed another small house on his way back home.

Usually the curtains were drawn and he didn't know what was inside the windows of the room he passed. But this evening the curtains were not drawn and a light was shining there,

Mr. Pink-Whistle peeped in, hoping to see some more children. All he saw was a baby crying in a cot, and dear me—what was that on the floor?

Mr. Pink-Whistle tried to see, and then he gave a cry and ran round the house to the front door. He knocked and knocked. No answer. He ran to the back door and that was open.

In he went and made his way to the room he had peeped into. On the floor lay a young woman, groaning. Mr. Pink-Whistle lifted her up gently.

"What's the matter?" he asked.

"Oh, I feel so ill," said the young woman. "My husband is away and I tried to lift something too heavy for me. I've hurt my back."

"I'll get you to hospital," said Mr. Pink-Whistle.

"No, no!" cried the young woman. "There's my baby. I can't part from him, I can't. All I want-is a nice rest to-night and I'll be all right in the morning. I was just going to bath my baby and feed him when I fainted."

"Shall I get a neighbour in to help you?" said kind Mr. Pink-Whistle.

"No. They don't know anything about young babies," said the young woman. "Oh, dear—what shall I do? I just want help to-night, that's all."

"Well—I
could
bath a baby and feed it myself," said Mr. Pink-Whistle, "but I've got a better idea than that. Wait here and I'll fetch someone at once."

He went out of the front door and ran to the house where Rose and Daisy lived. He knocked on the window of their playroom.

The twins came at once, in great surprise. They stared at the funny little man at the window.

"You won't know who I am," began Mr. Pink-Whistle, "but . . ."

"We
do
know who you are," said Rose, suddenly, staring hard.

"You're Mr. Pink-Whistle. You are, you are! We've got a book about you, so we know you well."

"How strange," said Mr. Pink-Whistle. "You're quite right. That's who I am. Well, my dears, I want a bit of help and I've come to you for it."

"Oh—Mr. Pink-Whistle! Do you really want us to help you!" said both twins at once. "We'd simply
love
to."

"It's like this," said Pink-Whistle. "I've been peeping in at you for some time now, and I can see how kind and loving you are to your dolls—

especially to your baby doll—and now I want a bit of help with a real
live
baby, whose mother is ill. I suppose you couldn't come and bath it and feed it this evening?"

The twins' eyes nearly fell out of their heads. "A
live
baby," said Rose. "How wonderful!"

"We've always wished our dolls were alive," said Daisy. "Where's this baby?

BOOK: Enid Blyton
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