Selby Scrambled Read Online Free PDF

don’t go!’ Clemenza yelled after him. ‘I want to know who you are!’
    Like a skier going full speed down a ski slope, Selby slid through the mist towards the ground. Before he knew it he was lying on the footpath staring up at the startled Dr and Mrs Trifle.
    ‘Oh, Selby,’ Mrs Trifle said, picking him up in her arms. ‘Thank goodness, you’re safe!’
    ‘Good boy,’ Dr Trifle said, taking the Wall Walkers off Selby’s paws and throwing them in a rubbish bin. ‘I guess these were a bit of a dud. It’s a pity because they seemed to work brilliantly at first. Oh, well.’
    That night back in Bogusville, the Trifles watched the evening news. They saw Clemenza Lightfoot being taken away in a police car.
    ‘What is she raving about?’ Dr Trifle asked. ‘Something about a man in a dog suit talking to her and helping her get to the top.’
    ‘I told you the woman was a bit strange,’ Mrs Trifle said.
    Suddenly Dr and Mrs Trifle turned towards Selby.
    ‘A man in a dog suit?’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘You don’t suppose …?’
    ‘But there’s no way Selby could have
talked
to her,’ Dr Trifle said.
    ‘Still,’ Mrs Trifle answered, ‘I think something strange happened up there on that building today. It was a pity we couldn’t see because of the mist.’
    ‘You mean we
missed
something because of the mist,’ Dr Trifle laughed.
    ‘I guess you could say,’ Selby thought, ‘that it will always be a mist-ery.’
    Paw note: This is my specially invented question-comma. You can use it in the middle of sentences. Good, hey?
    S

SELBY SPORTS STAR
    ‘Soccer?’ Dr Trifle said. ‘I have no idea how to play soccer. Is it a card game? Or is it that game where you throw rubber chickens into a bathtub?’
    ‘Neither, silly,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘There’s a ball and you kick it up and down the field till
    someone gets a goal.’
    ‘What’s a goal?’
    ‘That’s when someone kicks the ball into this sort of a box thingy. Only there’s a goalie trying to keep it from going in.’
    ‘I don’t understand this sports business,’ Dr Trifle said. ‘In every sort of game there’s someone trying to do something and someoneelse trying to stop them. Why don’t they just take turns? That way everyone will get lots of points and they’ll all stay friends and no one will get hurt.’
    ‘Poor Dr Trifle,’ Selby thought. ‘He has no idea. He’s the least sporty person in the whole world.’
    ‘But it wouldn’t be any fun,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘Now I hope you don’t mind but you and I are going to be playing soccer for Bogusville against Poshfield. Don’t worry, I’ll tell you what to do. It’s just a friendly match.’
    ‘Friendly? Against Poshfield? Are you sure? It seems to me that things can be quite unfriendly if Poshfield’s mayor, Denis Dorset, has anything to do with it. Is he going to play?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘Good.’
    ‘He’ll be the referee,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘And don’t worry, he can’t cheat because I have a copy of the rules right here,’ Mrs Trifle said, holding up a book called
Soccer for Ninnies.
‘I’ve been studying them for weeks.’
    ‘If I’m going to play this soccer thing I’d better get into shape,’ Dr Trifle said. ‘I think I’llstart by walking around the house once a day and then I’ll do some thumb flexes and some bending over.’
    ‘There’s no time for that. The game starts in fifteen minutes,’ Mrs Trifle said, handing her husband a pair of shorts and an
I Luv Bogusville
T-shirt. ‘Get into these. Oh, and Selby can be our mascot and bring us good luck.’
    ‘Oh, boy!’ Selby thought. ‘I love soccer! I watch it all the time on TV when the Trifles are out. I can’t wait to see Bogusville thrash those poncy Poshfield guys.’
    At the soccer field Denis Dorset was wearing a striped referee’s uniform and a whistle hung around his neck.
    ‘Let’s see who’s playing for Bogusville,’ Selby thought. ‘There’s Melanie Mildew, she could be okay;