The World's Worst Fairy Godmother Read Online Free PDF Page A

dark.
    Clutching their apples, they hurried off to do their work.

Chapter Seven
Into the Woods
    Susan didn’t really want to take a basket of fruit to her grandmother. But she knew that good girls always did as their mothers asked. So on Saturday morning she took the basket her mother gave her and headed toward the forest.
    â€œNow remember,” said Mrs. Pfenstermacher, “don’t talk to strangers while you’re in the woods!” She paused, then added, “Unless you meet a little pudgy woman. Her you can talk to.”
    â€œYes mother darling,” said Susan, slightly puzzled by this odd pronouncement.
    She kissed her mother and headed for the woods. On the way she saw Heidi and Maria playing with their dolls. She thought it might be nice to stop for a while, but they never wanted to play with her. Besides, she told herself, perfect girls didn’t stop to play when they had a job to do.
    When she reached the edge of the forest, she paused for a minute, wondering if there really were imps lurking inside, as the old woodcutter had said.
    â€œProbably not,” she decided. “Everyone knows he’s not a very truthful old man.”
    Tightening her grip on her basket, she skipped into the forest singing, “I’m perfect, so perfect, I’m as perfect as a perfect thing can be.”
    She hadn’t gone far when she stopped to look around. “What a glorious morning!” she cried. “What a divine day. It’s almost as perfect as I am.”
    Suddenly a pudgy little woman appeared on the path ahead of her. Looking over her shoulder, the woman said something that sounded like, “All right, all right, you don’t have to push!”
    Susan blinked, and for a moment she thought about running away. Then she remembered what her mother had said. Putting on a big smile, she stepped forward and asked politely, “Are you the pudgy little woman my mother told me about?”
    â€œI suppose so,” she said. Then she smiled, a wonderful smile, that made Susan feel warm inside. “Actually, I’m your fairy godmother. My name is Maybelle.”
    The warm feeling vanished. Susan burst into laughter. “That’s ridiculous! How could I have someone like you for a fairy godmother?”
    Maybelle glanced behind her. Then she spread her hands, shrugged, and said, “Heaven works in mysterious ways.”
    Susan looked at Maybelle more closely.
    She was a pleasant-looking little woman, though not very carefully put together, what with her apron being so rumpled and the cloudy wisps of hair escaping all around the braid at the top of her head. Also, her slip was showing. Obviously she was crazy.
    I’d better humor her, thought Susan, remembering a story her father had told her about a crazy villager. Out loud she said, “You poor dear. Why don’t you sit down and rest?”
    Looking bewildered, Maybelle sat on the log that Susan gestured toward.
    â€œNow,” said Susan, sounding very solemn. “Tell me all about it. How did they start?”
    â€œHow did what start?” asked Maybelle.
    â€œWhy, the terrible troubles that have brought you to this sorry state?”
    Maybelle blinked. “What do you know about my troubles?”
    â€œNothing, except that it’s obvious you have them. When did they begin?”
    Maybelle scrinched her face into its thinking position. “Well,” she said at last, “I guess it was about a hundred and fifty years ago.”
    â€œOh, my!” gasped Susan. “This is worse than I thought!”
    Maybelle nodded. “It is pretty bad when you think about it. It’s been a long time.”
    â€œAnd what do you suppose caused these troubles?” asked Susan, her voice serious and sympathetic. She was sitting next to Maybelle now, thinking it would be nice if she could make the little woman sane again. She wondered if that was why her mother had sent her into the woods,