So, I still haven't written the next bit of the Midwife's Tale. I'm sorry. That's what I get for posting the first part of a mostly unwritten story. It just doesn't want to come. In the meantime, this is something I wrote a while back, as a Christmas present for my cousin Pablo. I hope that it is at least passable.
Unwin the Unshaven and the Three Strangers
A long time ago, in a country far away, there was a man Unwin, called the Unshaven. This was only one of his nicknames. Others ranged between Unwin the Unwashed, Unwin the Grubby, Unwin the Poorly Clothed, Faugh! You Smell, I Think I’m Going To Be Sick and others less printable. But mostly, he was called the Unshaven.
It was not that he intended to be revolting to the people around him, it was just that he was a very amiable man and also very distracted. On any given day he intended to bathe, shave, comb, launder, and trim, but was diverted by rainbows in the soap-bubbles, waded into a bog to catch tadpoles, chopped a bundle of wood for his elderly aunts, invented a better mouse-trap, and picked a bundle of daisies. He was very dirty, and he scratched constantly, if absentmindedly, because he was inhabited by vermin of various natures. He was much loved and much avoided by his neighbours.
As it happened, a ferocious Ogre lived in that region. This Ogre was both needlessly nasty and fabulously rich, two qualities that go together too often, alas. The Ogre didn’t like people living near his gloomy castle, especially if they were happy, so he went out of his way to torment them. If a herd of cows went missing, the Ogre had eaten them. If all the carefully washed table-cloths for the village festival got covered with mud, the Ogre had blown up a storm to muddy them. If the gold to pay the village’s taxes turned into lead overnight, the Ogre had done it. He intended to be very revolting.
One day the Ogre, who loathed children, decided to get rid of them. He sent out a beautiful red bouncing ball that sang funny tunes and giggled on each bounce. All the children thought that it was the most amazing toy they had ever seen and followed it, even when it bounced up the winding and rocky path that led up to his castle. They followed the red bouncing ball through a portcullis that looked like teeth, and down a hallway done up in red velvet and into a large kitchen all filled with clanging pots. The Ogre, who was beautifully dressed in a white chef’s hat and apron turned to them and smiled. “Ah, children,” he said, “how nice of you to come to dinner!” And he laughed, loud and long.
The villagers, as soon as they realised that their children had disappeared, tried to get them back. But it was of no avail. They simply could not get through the portcullis. When they tried climbing the walls, the Ogre heard them and tumbled rocks on their heads. Then he told them about the lovely little sauce he was cooking up.
All the people in the village met in the town hall to talk about what they were going to do next. They decided to send one man to sneak over the walls and then do what he could. When they held a raffle, Unwin’s ticket was called. Some wanted to draw the raffle again, for they thought that Unwin would have even less chance against the Ogre than most, but he insisted that fair was fair. He wandered outside, wondering what he would do.
In the shadows of the hall veranda he sat, scratching his bugs, and tried to think. A solar-powered gyrocopter was interesting, but not immediately useful, neither was an improved potato peeler. It was then that three strangers appeared in the darkness. “Unwin,” they said, “you don’t know us but we know you. We have long found you a hospitable host, never stinting in largesse. Now we’re going to help you.” They introduced themselves. Mighty Leaper was a small dark man, very neat about his person. He stood quietly, but as if he was just about to spring into the air. Grips Hard was a little taller and hairier, with wide shoulders and grasping hands. The third stranger was called Round-as-a-Rose, though he was very long and thin and somehow droopy. As the others talked, Round-as-a-Rose just curled up on the ground and went to sleep.
Unwin thanked them for their offer of help. He explained the first problem, which was to get into the castle. “Nothing could be easier!” they assured him. “We're experts at getting in where we’re not wanted.”
The heroes snuck under a wall where the shadows were darkest. Then Grips Hard picked up Round-as-a-Rose and climbed on the shoulders of Mighty Leaper, who jumped to the top of the high wall. They trailed Round-as-a-Rose down the wall and Grips Hard pulled up Unwin. Then they pointed Unwin at the Great Hall and told him that they would meet him there.
Unwin trotted quietly through the dark corridors. He kept passing odd bits of ironwork that looked like torture machines. He shuddered, thinking of what the children were going through. Finally, he found the Great Hall. It was a very large room with long dining tables. The tables had very white tablecloths, because the Ogre was very finicky and didn’t like dirt near him. At the tables, all the village children were chained to their seats. Rosemary wreaths adorned their heads, and they ate ginger and honey. This didn’t look so bad.
Unwin couldn’t see the Ogre anywhere, so he went on into the kitchen. The Ogre was at the far end, peeling potatoes. He stopped, and sniffed the air. “What’s that smell?” he growled.
“Um,” quavered Unwin, “a man?”
“No,” mused the Ogre, “it’s far worse than that. Bitter, with a hint of bog. Is that sewage? I think I’m going to nggnh –” He turned around and spied Unwin. “What are you doing in my nice clean kitchen?” he roared. “You’re spoiling my food!”
Unwin’s knees knocked together. “I can show you a better way to peel potatoes!” he pleaded. He remembered that he had a sword, and ran at the Ogre waving the sword wildly. He hit the Ogre on his hairy belly, but it just bounced off. The Ogre picked him up and, holding his nose, ran into the Great Hall. There was a large window over a sheer drop there. The Ogre really didn’t like Unwin’s smell, so he was going to throw him out.
It was then that the Ogre stopped. He dropped Unwin and scratched his belly with a puzzled expression. Then he scratched his back. Then the top of his head, and his ankle and his knee and his arm and – “Aargh!” he screamed. “The itch! The terrible itch!” He ran around the hall shouting and scratching himself – all the children ducked – and finally, to stop the itching, threw HIMSELF out of the window.
Just before the wailing Ogre disappeared from view, Unwin’s three friends jumped off his back. They had been very small, crawling about in his fur and making him itch. They were still falling, but Grips Hard caught on to the window sill, and Round-as-a-Rose caught on to his ankles, and Mighty Leaper caught on to his ankles. Then they all pulled themselves up and clapped each other – and Unwin – on the back. “Well done,” they said. And then they looked sad. “It’s been really great knowing you, Unwin,” they said, “but we have to go now.” Unwin didn’t understand this at all, but he thanked them, and released the children. They all went home and great was the rejoicing in the land.
Now, when the Ogre fell out of the window, he didn’t die. He bounced off some rocks into a fast flowing river that led into a waterfall and then a long way out to sea. When he finally got out of the water he was lost and couldn’t find his way home. The itching had stopped, though, so he was happy. In fact, he was happy for the first time in his life and ended up getting a job as a health inspector and part-time cook, which he enjoyed very much.
Because the Ogre didn’t come back, the villagers decided to set Unwin up in his castle where he could invent potato peelers and gyrocopters to his heart’s delight. Because the Ogre had left behind a great deal of money, they employed TWENTY servants to follow him around and tactfully keep him clean. Unwin enjoyed the company of the servants and all the children that visited him now. But he still missed his three friends, Mighty Leaper the flea, Grips Hard the louse, and Round-as-a-Rose the ringworm.
Many morals can be drawn from this story, O best beloved. I choose this one:
Sweets aren’t good for you; Ogres are mean; and dirt can be very friendly.
The End
Unwin the Unshaven and the Three Strangers
A long time ago, in a country far away, there was a man Unwin, called the Unshaven. This was only one of his nicknames. Others ranged between Unwin the Unwashed, Unwin the Grubby, Unwin the Poorly Clothed, Faugh! You Smell, I Think I’m Going To Be Sick and others less printable. But mostly, he was called the Unshaven.
It was not that he intended to be revolting to the people around him, it was just that he was a very amiable man and also very distracted. On any given day he intended to bathe, shave, comb, launder, and trim, but was diverted by rainbows in the soap-bubbles, waded into a bog to catch tadpoles, chopped a bundle of wood for his elderly aunts, invented a better mouse-trap, and picked a bundle of daisies. He was very dirty, and he scratched constantly, if absentmindedly, because he was inhabited by vermin of various natures. He was much loved and much avoided by his neighbours.
As it happened, a ferocious Ogre lived in that region. This Ogre was both needlessly nasty and fabulously rich, two qualities that go together too often, alas. The Ogre didn’t like people living near his gloomy castle, especially if they were happy, so he went out of his way to torment them. If a herd of cows went missing, the Ogre had eaten them. If all the carefully washed table-cloths for the village festival got covered with mud, the Ogre had blown up a storm to muddy them. If the gold to pay the village’s taxes turned into lead overnight, the Ogre had done it. He intended to be very revolting.
One day the Ogre, who loathed children, decided to get rid of them. He sent out a beautiful red bouncing ball that sang funny tunes and giggled on each bounce. All the children thought that it was the most amazing toy they had ever seen and followed it, even when it bounced up the winding and rocky path that led up to his castle. They followed the red bouncing ball through a portcullis that looked like teeth, and down a hallway done up in red velvet and into a large kitchen all filled with clanging pots. The Ogre, who was beautifully dressed in a white chef’s hat and apron turned to them and smiled. “Ah, children,” he said, “how nice of you to come to dinner!” And he laughed, loud and long.
The villagers, as soon as they realised that their children had disappeared, tried to get them back. But it was of no avail. They simply could not get through the portcullis. When they tried climbing the walls, the Ogre heard them and tumbled rocks on their heads. Then he told them about the lovely little sauce he was cooking up.
All the people in the village met in the town hall to talk about what they were going to do next. They decided to send one man to sneak over the walls and then do what he could. When they held a raffle, Unwin’s ticket was called. Some wanted to draw the raffle again, for they thought that Unwin would have even less chance against the Ogre than most, but he insisted that fair was fair. He wandered outside, wondering what he would do.
In the shadows of the hall veranda he sat, scratching his bugs, and tried to think. A solar-powered gyrocopter was interesting, but not immediately useful, neither was an improved potato peeler. It was then that three strangers appeared in the darkness. “Unwin,” they said, “you don’t know us but we know you. We have long found you a hospitable host, never stinting in largesse. Now we’re going to help you.” They introduced themselves. Mighty Leaper was a small dark man, very neat about his person. He stood quietly, but as if he was just about to spring into the air. Grips Hard was a little taller and hairier, with wide shoulders and grasping hands. The third stranger was called Round-as-a-Rose, though he was very long and thin and somehow droopy. As the others talked, Round-as-a-Rose just curled up on the ground and went to sleep.
Unwin thanked them for their offer of help. He explained the first problem, which was to get into the castle. “Nothing could be easier!” they assured him. “We're experts at getting in where we’re not wanted.”
The heroes snuck under a wall where the shadows were darkest. Then Grips Hard picked up Round-as-a-Rose and climbed on the shoulders of Mighty Leaper, who jumped to the top of the high wall. They trailed Round-as-a-Rose down the wall and Grips Hard pulled up Unwin. Then they pointed Unwin at the Great Hall and told him that they would meet him there.
Unwin trotted quietly through the dark corridors. He kept passing odd bits of ironwork that looked like torture machines. He shuddered, thinking of what the children were going through. Finally, he found the Great Hall. It was a very large room with long dining tables. The tables had very white tablecloths, because the Ogre was very finicky and didn’t like dirt near him. At the tables, all the village children were chained to their seats. Rosemary wreaths adorned their heads, and they ate ginger and honey. This didn’t look so bad.
Unwin couldn’t see the Ogre anywhere, so he went on into the kitchen. The Ogre was at the far end, peeling potatoes. He stopped, and sniffed the air. “What’s that smell?” he growled.
“Um,” quavered Unwin, “a man?”
“No,” mused the Ogre, “it’s far worse than that. Bitter, with a hint of bog. Is that sewage? I think I’m going to nggnh –” He turned around and spied Unwin. “What are you doing in my nice clean kitchen?” he roared. “You’re spoiling my food!”
Unwin’s knees knocked together. “I can show you a better way to peel potatoes!” he pleaded. He remembered that he had a sword, and ran at the Ogre waving the sword wildly. He hit the Ogre on his hairy belly, but it just bounced off. The Ogre picked him up and, holding his nose, ran into the Great Hall. There was a large window over a sheer drop there. The Ogre really didn’t like Unwin’s smell, so he was going to throw him out.
It was then that the Ogre stopped. He dropped Unwin and scratched his belly with a puzzled expression. Then he scratched his back. Then the top of his head, and his ankle and his knee and his arm and – “Aargh!” he screamed. “The itch! The terrible itch!” He ran around the hall shouting and scratching himself – all the children ducked – and finally, to stop the itching, threw HIMSELF out of the window.
Just before the wailing Ogre disappeared from view, Unwin’s three friends jumped off his back. They had been very small, crawling about in his fur and making him itch. They were still falling, but Grips Hard caught on to the window sill, and Round-as-a-Rose caught on to his ankles, and Mighty Leaper caught on to his ankles. Then they all pulled themselves up and clapped each other – and Unwin – on the back. “Well done,” they said. And then they looked sad. “It’s been really great knowing you, Unwin,” they said, “but we have to go now.” Unwin didn’t understand this at all, but he thanked them, and released the children. They all went home and great was the rejoicing in the land.
Now, when the Ogre fell out of the window, he didn’t die. He bounced off some rocks into a fast flowing river that led into a waterfall and then a long way out to sea. When he finally got out of the water he was lost and couldn’t find his way home. The itching had stopped, though, so he was happy. In fact, he was happy for the first time in his life and ended up getting a job as a health inspector and part-time cook, which he enjoyed very much.
Because the Ogre didn’t come back, the villagers decided to set Unwin up in his castle where he could invent potato peelers and gyrocopters to his heart’s delight. Because the Ogre had left behind a great deal of money, they employed TWENTY servants to follow him around and tactfully keep him clean. Unwin enjoyed the company of the servants and all the children that visited him now. But he still missed his three friends, Mighty Leaper the flea, Grips Hard the louse, and Round-as-a-Rose the ringworm.
Many morals can be drawn from this story, O best beloved. I choose this one:
Sweets aren’t good for you; Ogres are mean; and dirt can be very friendly.
The End
posted by theamazingcatherine | 6:50 pm
1 Comments:
Morals I like:
Heroes can come in all shapes, sizes and smells.
A hybrid solar-powered and pedal powered gyrocopter would be more useful when breaking into an ogre’s dark castle.
Learning how to swim can save your life.
Tragedy is not necessarily bad for the economy.
Getting away and starting afresh can change your outlook on life.
Mike
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