The Leprechaun Who Wished He Wasn't Read Online Free PDF

thing. What age are you? I’m eleven.’
    â€˜Me too,’ said Laurence. ‘Eleven hundred next birthday.’
    â€˜Oh you big fibber!’
    Big! She’d called him big ! Laurence swelled up importantly. ‘Am I?’ he asked, delighted.
    â€˜Yes, of course you are. You must be fibbing, because nobody can live to beeleven hundred. Unless … unless … unless they’re a leprechaun , of course.’
    â€˜But I’m not eleven hundred yet. Not for another month. I’m still only one thousand and ninety-nine.’
    â€˜And eleven months,’ added Phoebe. ‘Same difference though. You’re way too old to be a human being.’
    â€˜Well, OK, OK, perhaps I am a leprechaun then,’ Laurence admitted. ‘But that doesn’t mean I have a crock of gold!’
    Phoebe stretched out her plump legs. ‘That’s what they all say. Anyway, I don’t want your crummy old crock of gold.’
    Now Laurence had been brought up to believe that human beings are always onthe lookout for crocks of gold. But here was his first-ever human being and she didn’t want one!
    â€˜I’d much rather have three wishes,’ Phoebe went on. ‘Even one wish would do, actually. You don’t happen to know any wishing-fairies, do you?’

    Laurence shook his head. ‘No such thing.’
    â€˜Are you sure? I thought that if there are leprechauns, there’d surely be wishing-fairies too.’
    â€˜No,’ said Laurence firmly. ‘At least, Idon’t know any.’
    â€˜That’s really too bad,’ said Phoebe crossly. ‘Can you do magic?’
    â€˜A bit,’ said Laurence cautiously.
    â€˜What can you do?’
    â€˜I can disappear,’ boasted Laurence.
    â€˜Well, that’s not much use, is it?’
    â€˜I suppose not,’ agreed Laurence sadly.
    â€˜Anything else?’
    â€˜No,’ said Laurence in a small voice. ‘Sorry. You make me sound quite useless.’
    â€˜Well, you are a bit. It’s a shame you can’t grant me any wishes. Have you got a wish?’
    â€˜Of course I have. I wish I wasn’t a leprechaun. I wish I was taller. Tall enough to be a huming being.’
    â€˜Isn’t it nice being a leprechaun?’
    â€˜No, it isn’t. It’s awful. But what’s your dearest wish?’ Laurence asked.
    â€˜Well,’ began Phoebe, ‘do you promise not to tell anyone else?’
    â€˜Cross my heart and hope to die.’
    â€˜Well, then,’ Phoebe confided, ‘I wish I was thin!’
    â€˜THIN!’ exclaimed Laurence. ‘THIN! What on earth do you want to be thin for?’ That was the daftest wish he’d ever heard.
    â€˜They’re all thinner than me at school,’ said Phoebe.
    â€˜Probably,’ said Laurence. ‘But who cares about that? Who wants to be like everyone else?’
    â€˜You do, for a start,’ said Phoebe. ‘Butyou see, the real problem is this. My big sister wants me to be bridesmaid at her wedding this summer, and I look so stupid in frilly dresses! I look like … I look like … a hippopotamus in a tutu!’

    Laurence started to giggle. The giggle turned into a chuckle.

    The chuckle turned into a belly laugh, and before long he was rolling around on the grass with tears streaming down his puckered old cheeks.
    â€˜A hippo … a hoppo … a hoppopit … a hippopot … a hippopotamus in a tu … in a tu … in a tutu!’ he roared.

    At last he sat up and took out his handkerchief.
    It was red with large white spots. He gave his nose a good blow.
    â€˜Oh just look at your hanky!’ exclaimed Phoebe. Now it was her turn to giggle. ‘It looks just like a handkerchief in a fairy-tale. It’s a very leprechaunish sort of handkerchief!’
    Laurence examined his hanky glumly. ‘Now you see what I mean about being a leprechaun,’ he said. ‘People