The Mysterious Howling Read Online Free PDF

‘retire’ them to faraway meadows, while all along planning to deliver them to the slaughterhouse—
    â€œNo! Edith-Anne couldn’t bear to think of it, but what could she do? It was her own Rainbow—dear, sweet Rainbow!—who had the patience to run alongside Silky, hour after hour. Who took the carrots Edith-Anne gave her and nosed them through the fence at her snorting, unhappy friend. Who showed Silky, through patient example, how pleasant it was to be groomed by an adoring little girl, to have one’s hooves rubbed with oil, and then to have all those bright red ribbons braided through one’s mane!
    â€œWhen Mr. Alpo arrived, halter in hand, to take his prize, how shocked he and the Krupps were to see Drusilla perched happily on Silky’s back! His clean coat shone in the sun as he and Rainbow trotted side by side through the course Edith-Anne had prepared for them: circling to the left, circling to the right, a wide figure eight, then diagonals across and back, and a perfect finish in the center. The ponies even took a bow.”
    Penelope had to stop there—partly because the tale was over, partly to wipe her eyes (the story always touched her deeply), but mostly because of the dreadful noise emanating from Mrs. Clarke.
    Naturally Mrs. Clarke had been amazed by the sight of three filthy children slowly settling themselves into the dirt and hay at Penelope’s feet, drawn by her voice and rapt as kindergartners, although surely they could not understand a word of Penelope’s story—but Mrs. Clarke herself was now weeping uncontrollably at the tale of Rainbow and Silky. It took several moments for her to compose herself enough even to blow her nose.
    â€œI think that is all the story we have time for now, children,” Penelope said gently. “Now you three must stay here in the barn quietly for a bit, while I go makearrangements for you, but I will come back very soon. And I will bring fresh milk and plum cake when I do.”
    Whether the children understood her exact meaning was unknown, but the general tone of her words seemed to have gotten across, for there was no more howling. Also, as soon as Penelope rose to leave, the youngest of the three leaped into the warm spot on the ground where Penelope had been sitting and curled up in a ball; the look on her face was very much like contentment.
    That started Mrs. Clarke wailing all over again, and Penelope had to lend her a fresh handkerchief before they could make their way back to the house.

T HE F OURTH C HAPTER
Lord Fredrick tells a most unbelievable tale!
    P ENELOPE ’ S NOTION THAT THE CHILDREN ought to be brought inside at once and settled in the nursery met with some resistance from her walking companion, at least at first.
    â€œLady Constance will have to”— huff, puff —“give her permission,” said Mrs. Clarke, who, if anyone had asked her, would have sworn that the journey both to and from the barn was decidedly uphill.
    â€œPermission? For children to live indoors? I should think she will!” Penelope exclaimed. “What otheranswer could she give?”
    To that, Mrs. Clarke gave no reply. The brisk walk back to the house was making her too winded to converse intelligently. “All this trotting to and fro will be the”— huff! —“death of me!” she wheezed, although, as you already know, regular aerobic exercise was far more likely to improve her cardiovascular fitness than cause her demise.
    Penelope, meanwhile, could not erase the leering, pocked face of Mr. Alpo—for that is how she imagined him to look—from her mind’s eye, and it simply made her desire to protect the children all the more urgent. “In that case,” she said firmly, “Lady Constance will have to come out to the barn and view the situation for herself.”
    When they arrived at the house, Mrs. Clarke had to sit down and drink a glass of