The Exploits of Moominpappa (Moominpappa's Memoirs) Read Online Free PDF Page B

sunsets, and spring.
    Now evening came, very slowly and carefully, to give the day ample time to go to bed. Small clouds lay strewn

    over the sky like dabs of pink whipped cream. They were reflected in the ocean that rested calm and smooth. It looked quite harmless. 'Have you ever seen a cloud really close?' I asked.
    'No,' said Hodgkins. Damp and chilly, I expect.'
    'I think they're more like blanc-mange,' said the Joxter. We sat talking on a rock. The air was filled with the tang of sea-weed and of something else that could only have been the ocean smell.
    I felt so happy that I wasn't even afraid it wouldn't last
    'Don't you feel good?' I asked.
    'Rather,' Hodgkins answered. (I knew by that that he was exceedingly and enormously happy.)
    In that moment I caught sight of a whole flotilla of small ships putting out to sea. Light as butterflies they went gliding away over their own reflections. All were manned by a silent crew: little grey-white beings huddled close together and staring out towards the horizon.
    'Hattifatteners,' Hodgkins said.
    'Hattifatteners!' I whispered excitedly. 'Putting out on their endless voyages...'
    'Mind you don't touch them if there's a thunderstorm about,' said Hodgkins. 'Makes them electric. Sting like nettles.'
    'They used to live a wicked life,' said the Joxter.
    'A wicked life?' I repeated with interest. 'How?'
    'I don't quite know,' said the Joxter. 'Trampling down people's gardens and drinking beer and so on, I suppose.'
    We sat there for a long time looking after the Hattifatteners sailing out towards the horizon. I really couldn't help it, but I felt a vague desire to join them on their voyage and to share their wicked life for a while. But I didn't say it.
    'Well, and what about tomorrow?' asked the Joxter. 'Do we sail?'
    Hodgkins looked at The Oshun Oxtra. 'There might be a storm,' he said a little dubiously.
    'Let's toss,' said the Joxter. 'Muddler! Won't you lend us a button from your collection?'
    The Muddler jumped out of the water and started to empty his pockets on the rock.
    'One's enough, dear nephew,' Hodgkins said.
    'Take your choice, folks,' said the Muddler happily. 'Two or four holes? Bone, plush, wood, glass, metal or mother-of-pearl? One-coloured, mottled, speckled, spotted, striped or checkered? Round, concave, convex, flat, octagonal, or...'
    'Just a trouser button,' said the Joxter. 'Here goes. Right side upwards: we sail. What's upwards?'
    'The holes,' said the Muddler, peering close at the button in the dusk.
    'Yes,' I said, 'but what else?'
    Just then the Muddler whisked his whiskers so that the button disappeared in a crack.
    'Excuse me!' he exclaimed. 'Have another, please.'
    'No, thanks,' said the Joxter. 'You can't toss more than once for anything. We'll let fate decide, because I'm sleepy.'
    The night that followed aboard The Oshun Oxtra wasn't very pleasant.
    When I went to bed I found my sheets all sticky and messy with some kind of treacly substance. The door handles were sticky, too, and so were my slippers and my tooth-brush, and Hodgkins' logbook simply wouldn't open at all.
    'Nephew,' he said. 'You haven't done these cabins very well today.'
    'Excuse me!' replied the Muddler reproachingly. 'I haven't done them at all!'
    'My tobacco's a single horrible, smeary mess,' exploded the Joxter, who loved to smoke a last pipe in bed.
    At last we calmed down and tried to curl up in the driest places. But all night we were disturbed by strange noises and thumpings that seemed to come from the steering cabin.
    I awoke to a terrible banging and clanging of the ship's bell.
    'Rise up, rise up! All hands on deck!' shouted the Muddler outside my door. 'Water everywhere! So big! A lone, lone sea! And I left my best pen-wiper on the beach! My little pen-wiper's laying there all alone...'
    We rushed out.
    The Oshun Oxtra lay drifting in the open sea. No land was in sight. Our anchor-rope was torn off.
    'Now I'm angry,' Hodgkins said. 'Really and truly. Angrier than ever