Glubbslyme Read Online Free PDF Page B

of the garden and let him go.’
    ‘Dad, I can’t. He’s mine .’
    ‘Stop arguing! Come on, do as you’re told, get a box. And then you’d better help me clear up this mess. The water will seep right through to the electrics if we’re not careful.’
    ‘I’ll take him back to the park then,’ Rebecca said mournfully.
    ‘Of course you can’t take him all the way back to the park at this time.’
    ‘But I have to, Dad.’
    ‘Rebecca, the park will be closed. The gates will be locked.’
    ‘I could climb over.’
    ‘Now you’re just being silly. I’m trying very hard indeed to keep my temper, Rebecca. Take the toad out into the garden AT ONCE.’
    Rebecca knew she would never win when Dad used that tone. Tears started trickling down her cheeks. Dad saw them and sighed.
    ‘Come on, there’s no need to act as if it’s the end of the world. It’s the only sensible thing to do, love. No one keeps toads as pets. He wouldn’t be happy. He wants to be back outside so he can hop about in the grass and catch a few flies for his supper. Take him right behind the greenhouse, he’ll be happy there. Now get a box and we’ll trap him in it.’
    ‘I don’t need a box,’ Rebecca sniffed, and she held out her hands.
    Glubbslyme hopped into them. Rebecca cuddled him against her damp chest. Dad looked amazed.
    ‘You see how tame he is,’ said Rebecca. ‘Oh please. If you only knew what sort of a toad he is—’
    Glubbslyme stiffened in alarm. Perhaps it was just as well Dad did not want to know.
    ‘Out into the garden. Now.’
    So Rebecca carried Glubbslyme out of the bathroom, down the stairs, through the kitchen and out into the garden. She whispered tearful apologies all the way. Glubbslyme didn’t reply until they were in the garden.
    ‘Watch that tongue of yours, child. Not a word about my powers, if you please. And pray staunch those tears. They are tickling.’
    ‘I can’t help crying, Glubbslyme. I’m so miserable,’ said Rebecca.
    They had only known each other a few hours and yet she felt Glubbslyme was her greatest friend.
    ‘I’m going to miss you so,’ she said, sobbing.
    ‘You are becoming exceeding waterlogged,’ said Glubbslyme. ‘Mop those eyes. There is no call for grief. I shall bide overnight in the little dwelling yonder. Is it another privy?’
    ‘It’s the greenhouse!’
    ‘It is not green. It is I believe a white house, though dingy enough to mistake for grey. But green, grey or white, it will suffice,’ said Glubbslyme.
    ‘ Will it? You’ll be all right? You’ll stay there all night?’
    ‘I am rather partial to that type of dwelling. However, this does not excuse the inhospitality of your father. I do not care for him. My Rebecca was wise enough not to have family.’
    ‘Dad was only cross because we’d made so much mess,’ said Rebecca, trying to be loyal.
    Glubbslyme sniffed. He peered about him, looking pleased, although it wasn’t a neat and tidy garden at all. Dad didn’t often get round to cutting the grass and besides, Rebecca liked to pick the daisies and make herself necklaces. Daisies were often the only flowers growing in the garden, apart from some pretty white blossoms that wound up and down the fence. Rebecca wondered hopefully if they were lilies. She had tried sprinkling a few seed packets into the earth but hadn’t had much success. It was irritating because lots of weeds grew without any encouragement whatsoever.
    Mr Baker next door found it irritating too. His garden was so neat and tidy it didn’t look real. His grass grew like green velvet and his flowers were all so perfect they looked like plastic. But Rebecca knew they weren’t plastic. Once or twice her ball had gone flying into Mr Baker’s garden by mistake and once or twice a few of the perfect flowers had been flattened. Once or twice Mr Baker had complained to Dad. More than once or twice.
    Mr Baker was out in his garden now, snipping the edges of his velvet lawn. He looked up when