Pig Latin--Not Just for Pigs! (2 page)

BOOK: Pig Latin--Not Just for Pigs!
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“I’m for taking the shortcut,” said Janice. “It’ll be a fun adventure!”
“Et‘s-lay o-gay!”
said Daisy.
Wiglaf could not believe his pig had just said, “Let’s go!” He was scared to take the shortcut. But if his pig was not afraid, how could he admit that he was?
“Are you sure, Daisy?” Wiglaf asked.
Daisy nodded.
“Y-may egs-lay are-yay oo-tay ort-shay or-fay ong-lay alks-way.”
“What did she say?” asked Janice. “I don’t understand Pig Latin.”
“She said, ‘My legs are too short for long walks,’ ” Wiglaf told Janice.
“Forget it!” said Angus. “I shall not set foot in the creepy Dark Forest. We might run into the headless executioner. Or a gang of nasty elves. Or a monster!”
“Yet, if we take the shortcut,” Erica said, “we shall reach the palace by suppertime... cherry pie with whipping cream!”
“What are we waiting for?” cried Angus. He ran up the path, across the Stone Bridge, and into the forest.
The moment Wiglaf stepped into the Dark Forest, his heart began to beat faster. The light was dim, for the sun could not shine through the tangled branches overhead. Trees and bushes took on eerie shapes.
“Ughhh,” Erica grunted. “All these roots in the path make pulling my trunk very hard.”
“Let me have a turn,” said Janice. She took the trunk handle from Erica.
Just then Wiglaf spied a cave.
“Look, Erica!” he exclaimed. “Was that not Gorzil’s cave?”
“‘Twas!” exclaimed Erica. “That is where Wiggie and I slew a vicious dragon!” she told the others excitedly.
“Did you slash him and bash him?” asked Janice eagerly. She began whacking away at an imaginary dragon with her lance. “Take that, you scaly fiend!”
“Yes!” exclaimed Erica. “It was a terrible battle. Gorzil shot flames from his snout. He belched up red-hot lava. But at last I stabbed him in the gut, and that was the end of him. Right, Wiggie?”
“That is not
exactly
the way I remember it,” muttered Wiglaf. For in truth, he had been the one to slay the dragon.
Every dragon has a secret fatal weakness, and by accident, Wiglaf had discovered Gorzil‘s—bad jokes. He told Gorzil some of Fergus’s awful knock-knock jokes, and the dragon had laughed himself to death.
“Enough dillydallying,” said Angus. “Or we’ll miss supper.”
Erica took her trunk back from Janice. Then on they went, over rocks and roots, deeper and deeper into the Dark Forest.
“O-say ired-tay,”
Daisy murmured.
“What did she say?” asked Janice.
“ ‘So tired,’ ” said Wiglaf.
“I wish I could understand you, Daisy,” Janice said. “Can you teach me Pig Latin?”
“All-yay ight-ray,”
said Daisy happily.
“She’s saying ‘all right.’” said Wiglaf.
They all sat down on a log.
“Art-stay ith-way ames-nay,
said Daisy.
“Huh?” said Janice.
“She said, ‘Start with names,’” Wiglaf explained.
Daisy pointed a hoof and said,
“Anice-jay.”
“That’s me?” said Janice.
Wiglaf nodded. “Here is the trick. Say your name without the
J
at the beginning.”
“Anice,” said Janice.
“Now take the
J
and add it to ‘-ay.’ It becomes ‘jay.’ Then put them together.”
“Anice...jay?”
said Janice.
“Anice-jay!”
“Ight-ray!”
said Wiglaf. “Now try Wiglaf.”
“Iglaf,”
said Janice.
“Iglaf-way.”
Her face lit up. “I’m speaking Pig Latin!” She turned to Daisy and said,
“Daisy—Aisy-day!”
“My name is different,” said Angus.
“For words that start with
A, E, I, O,
or
U,”
said Wiglaf, “you simply say the word and add ‘-yay’ at the end.”
“Angus-yay?”
said Janice. She turned to Erica.
“Erica-yay?”
“Ou-yay ot-gay it-yay,
” said Daisy.
“You...got...it,” said Janice. “Hey, I do!”
“Say ‘troll’ in Pig Latin,” said Wiglaf.
Janice frowned.
“Oll-tray?”
“Erfect-pay,”
said Daisy.
“Et‘s-lay et-gay oing-gay,
said Angus.
“Tell us about the palace,” said Wiglaf as they trooped on.
“It has many white marble towers and sits high on a hill overlooking a large park,” said Erica.
Wiglaf tried to imagine such a splendid sight. It sounded like a palace in a fairy tale.
“My mother’s herd of wild black unicorns lives in the park,” Erica went on. “They have red horns and can run like the wind.”
Erica suddenly stopped short. “Oh, I just remembered!” she cried. “Tomorrow marks twenty-five years that my father has been king! Popsy gives a speech every year on the anniversary of his crowning. After that, there’s always a feast.”
“A feast!” cried Angus. “Zounds!”
Then he did something most unusual for Angus—he started running. He had not gone far when the toe of his boot caught on a tree root, and he pitched forward. “Oof!” he cried as he hit the forest floor with a great thud.
Chapter 3
E
veryone rushed to Angus.
“Are you hurt?” Wiglaf cried.
“Yeeeees!” wailed Angus. He sat up, holding his knee. His leggings were ripped, and his knee was bleeding badly. Tears ran down his dirt-streaked cheeks.
Wiglaf turned his face away—the sight of blood made him sick.
“Fie!” exclaimed Erica. “My Sir Lancelot first-aid kit is back at DSA.”
“Oor-pay Angus-yay,”
said Daisy.
“‘Poor Angus’ is right,” Angus whimpered. He got up and tried to walk but limped badly. “Now we shall never make it to the palace in time for supper!” He began to weep harder.
“There are always lots of leftovers,” said Erica. “Now, the important thing is to clean your wound.”
“Noooo!” wailed Angus, covering his knee with his hand. “It will hurt!”
“But less than if your wound festers and your leg must be cut off,” Janice pointed out.
Blech! Wiglaf felt dizzy and held on to a tree trunk.
Angus looked horrified. But he uncovered his knee.
Wiglaf was the only one with water left in his flask. He tried not to gag as he helped rinse off Angus’s bloody knee. Afterward, he gave his share of Brother Dave’s peanut brittle to Angus to comfort him.
“You are a true friend,” said Angus. He popped the whole piece into his mouth.
Daisy peered at his wound.
“Ungo-jay eaves-lay,”
she muttered. Then she trotted off into the forest.
“I didn’t catch that,” said Janice.
“‘Jungo leaves,’” said Wiglaf. “I know not what it means. Yet Daisy knows a great deal about almost everything. Brother Dave is always bringing her library books.”
Erica added, “Daisy is very wise. She was our coach when DSA entered the All-School Brain-Power Tournament.”
“Forget the tournament!” cried Angus. “What about my knee?” He pulled himself to his feet. Once again, he tried to take a few steps, but it hurt too much. “Ow! Ow!” he cried, and sat back down.
“Daisy is getting something to help,” said Wiglaf. “Listen—I hear footsteps. She must be coming back already.”
Everyone listened. They heard the sound of feet on the path. Heavy feet.
“Those are not Daisy’s footsteps,” Wiglaf whispered. Someone—or something—much bigger than his pig was coming toward them through the forest.
Erica leaped up. She drew her sword. “Who goes there?” she cried.
No one answered.
The footsteps grew louder.
Janice jumped up and grabbed her lance. “This is so exciting!” she whispered.
Wiglaf stood, too. He took Surekill from his pack. He would never harm any living creature. Still, he hoped he might scare whatever it was away.
“Make yourself known!” yelled Erica. “Or we dragon slayers shall run you through!”
“No, please!” came a quavery voice. “I come in peace. »
A plump, white-haired woman stepped into the clearing. She wore a long gray dress and carried a bulging bag.
“Albon is my name,” said the old one. “Alchemy is my game.”
“Alchemy?” said Wiglaf. “You mean you can make gold?”
“Correct!” said Albon. “Tin, brass, iron, you name it. I can take any ordinary metal and turn it into gold. And I’m not talking gold plate, either. I’m talking pure, twenty-four-karat gold.” Her blue eyes sparkled. “I am on my way to an alchemists’ convention. But sadly, I have lost my way.” She reached into her bag and pulled out a piece of parchment. “Can one of you, perchance, help me out?”
Erica took the parchment just as Daisy came trotting back. Everybody looked at it together.
“I cannot believe this!” exclaimed Wiglaf.
“Let me see it!” cried Angus.
Janice handed him the flyer.
Now it was Angus’s turn to read:
COME YE, COME YE
TO THE ALCHEMY CONVENTION
Friday, Saturday, and Sunday
AT DRAGON SLAYERS’ RESORT HOTEL
(on DSA Way, just off Huntsman’s Path)
**
SEE AMAZING GOLD-MAKING
DEMONSTRATIONS!
**
LEARN ANCIENT GOLD-MAKING
SECRETS!
**
SHARE GOLD-MAKING TRICKS WITH
FELLOW ALCHEMISTS!
Luxurious Accommodations
at bargain rates if you pay up front in
GOLD!
RSVP to Mordred de Marvelous
or just show up.
But don’t forget to bring your GOLD.
“Madam,” said Erica. “Dragon Slayers’ is no resort hotel. It is a school.”
“Our
school,” said Janice.
“Ha!” cried Angus. “I knew there was something fishy about Uncle Mordred giving us a holiday. He just wanted to get rid of us so he could rent out our cots!”
Chapter 4
A
s soon as Albon was on her way, Daisy showed Wiglaf the herbs she’d found.
“Ake-tay is-thay, Iglaf-way,”
she said. In the cleft of her right front hoof she carried a leafy bouquet.
Wiglaf took the leaves. Daisy told him to rub them together to warm them, then press them onto Angus’s knee.
Wiglaf did so quickly.
“Ow!” said Angus. “Get those weeds off my wound!”
“Ealing-hay erbs-hay,”
“ said Daisy.
“Healing herbs, poppycock!” cried Angus. “I don’t see how a bunch of—” He paused. A look of surprise crossed his face. “Hey, wait a minute. My knee doesn’t hurt anymore!”
Daisy nodded knowingly. Wiglaf felt so proud of his pig.
Minutes later, Daisy told Angus to peel off the leaves. His wound had stopped bleeding. Now it was hardly more than a scratch.
Angus stood up. He bent his knee, then straightened it. “Daisy, you are a genius. An
enius-gay!”
he cried. “I’m ready to go!”
The little band started off again.
“How did you know about jungo leaves, Daisy?” Angus asked as they walked.
“I-yay ave-hay ead-ray any-may ooks-bay on-yay ealing-hay erbs-hay,”
Daisy said.
“Did you say, ‘I have read many books on healing herbs’?” Janice asked.
Daisy nodded.
“Whoopie! I got it!” cried Janice. “I know a foreign language!”
As they trekked on, the path grew steeper. It became littered with big chunks of stone.
“Fie! These broken rocks!” cried Erica. “They are murder on my trunk’s wheels.”
The jagged rocks also made it harder for Daisy to walk. So Angus, feeling grateful for her doctoring, picked her up and carried her.
Wiglaf saw a small troll peek out from between two pine trees. A bird screamed above him. Or was it a bat? He heard hermits shouting, “Leave me alone!” Then he heard a new noise: singing.
“Do you hear that?” he whispered.
The others nodded.
The singing grew louder. Soon Wiglaf could make out the words of the song:
Gorzil was a dragon, a greedy one was he, From his jaws of terror, villagers did flee.
BOOK: Pig Latin--Not Just for Pigs!
8.26Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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