A Spot of Fun

Jack awoke with a groan, and sat up. Blinking in the glaring white light, he slowly looked around and found three other boys staring at him. But before concerning himself with them, he studied his surroundings with alarm.

He was in a strange bare room with plain white walls, a white ceiling, and a hard white floor. There appeared to be no door at all. The room was a box-like cell about twelve feet square, completely featureless except for one small panel of dark-colored glass that was fixed to one of the walls. On the glass was his name, printed in glowing white letters: Jack.

The other boys sat quietly nearby, watching him with doleful expressions.

"Where am I?" moaned Jack, holding his head. "How did I get here?"

"I think we must be in one of those flying saucers from outer space," said one of the boys. He was red-haired and green-eyed, and had so many freckles that even his freckles had freckles! "Gosh, I do wish Kiki were here. I hope she's all right."

"Who's Kiki?" asked Jack. "And who are you?"

The red-haired boy sighed. "I'm Jack Trent. Kiki's my parrot."

Jack was surprised. "That's odd. My name's Jack too! What a strange coincidence."

The other Jack rolled his eyes. "You think that's a coincidence? Well, guess what? We're ALL named Jack."

Jack stared at Jack, and then at the other two boys, who sat quiet and mournful. All three boys appeared to be about the same age, although very different in appearance. The freckled Jack sat on the far right, well groomed and pleasant enough, although at the moment he looked worried for his lost parrot.

The boy on the far left was bigger and stronger, very tanned, with a deep scowl on his forehead. He wore overalls, and a good job too because he had mud splashed up his legs, and his boots were caked in huge clods of earth. There seemed be a smell coming from his direction. Cows, perhaps?

The boy in the middle was the smallest of the three, and poorly dressed. His trousers were raggedy and his feet were bare. Despite that, he had a strong, confident determination in his bright eyes. This boy was independent, used to finding his own way in life.

"So... you're all named Jack?" asked Jack nervously.

The freckled Jack nodded in answer, and spoke before the other two had a chance. "I was just telling Lucy-Ann how lucky we were to be staying at Craggy-Tops with Philip and Dinah, and then she went off to help Dinah with something, and suddenly I found myself waking up here, in this room." He paused, and said helpfully, "You can call me Freckles, if you like. Some of my friends do. It might save confusion, since we all have the same name here."

The boy in the middle spoke up. "I was just going off to get some more branches for our willow house when, like Freckles here, I woke up in this room." He brightened visibly. "Peggy, Nora, Mike and I have run away to a secret island."

"Gosh!" said Jack. "And what's your last name?"

Jack looked puzzled for a moment, and then shrugged. "I've forgotten. My granddad never used it, and it's been so long..."

How curious, thought Jack. Fancy not knowing your own last name. But then he realized he didn't know his own last name either. How queer!

He turned to the big, strong boy -- and couldn't help sniffing the air as the smell of cows hit him again. "Do you work on a farm or something?" he asked.

The big boy nodded. "I'm Jack Longfield," he said, sounding annoyed. "I'm far too busy to be stuck here. The bull's probably run away by now! I was taking him for a walk when I ended up here, in this room, just like the others." He thumped the floor in sudden frustration. "My father will think I'm lazing about. Susan and Jane are probably looking for me, too."

Jack was silent while he digested all this information. Three Jacks -- four including himself -- in one room together!

The other three looked at him expectantly, and Jack cleared his throat. "I'm Jack... er, well, I guess you know that already. I'm a member of the Secret Seven, the best Secret Society ever. If anyone can figure out where we are, it's the Secret Seven!"

The big farm lad snorted. "Secret clubs are for kids," he said scornfully. "I don't have time for games. I work on a farm, up with the dawn and hard at work all day long, with the sun beating down on my back -- or the frost creeping through my boots to my toes, depending on the time of year."

"Don't be rude," said Freckles. "A secret club is a fine idea. I think you're just sore because of that Cyril you told us about."

The farm lad snorted again, and after a moment nodded. "It's true. He's getting my back up. Him and his snooty sister and lazy, cry-baby brother. I wish they'd all go back to their own house -- but, well, they can't, so that's that."

"I wish I were back on the island," said the small Jack in the middle. "It's funny, but all this talk about farms -- and about walking the bull -- reminds me that I have a cow too. I might bring Daisy to the island, so we can have milk whenever we need it."

"You're crazy," said Freckles, laughing. "Taking a cow to an island? What, in a rowing boat?"

Before anyone could retort, there was a sudden flash -- and another boy appeared out of nowhere. He slowly sat up and groaned, holding his head. Then, seeing he was not alone, he frowned and said, "Where am I?"

The farm boy sighed heavily and lay down flat on his back to stare at the ceiling. "Not another one," he grumbled.

"Is your name Jack?" Jack asked the new boy. "Where did you come from?"

The new boy looked puzzled. "I was walking through this dark railway tunnel with Julian and Dick, trying to find a spook train, when all of sudden -- well, here I am. But my name's not Jack -- it's Jock."

Suddenly there was another flash, and the boy promptly vanished into thin air.

Another flash followed, and yet another boy appeared. This was a very small boy holding a basket of blackberries.

"Jack?" asked Jack.

"Jocko," said the boy timidly -- and promptly vanished.

A voice boomed out, startling them. It seemed to echo all around, and had a distinctly alien quality about it. "Sorry, folks, slight mix-up there. Trying to locate more Jacks to join you. The room of Susans is full now -- Jack, you can see your sister later if you like."

The farm lad shot to his feet, looking astounded. "My sister's here too?"

Jack shot to his feet too, his Secret Seven badge nearly falling off. "He means MY sister, Susie," he argued. He turned his eyes upward and stared at the ceiling. "Is that right? Do you mean Susan, or Susie?"

"Oh, both, probably," said the booming voice. "Right now we're working on Betty and Bets and all variations of. Should we include Elizabeth Allen in that room, I wonder? I guess we should, since Bets and Betty are short for Elizabeth. And in goes Lizzie, too -- bless her heart, she's so busy writing she hasn't even noticed she's not in her room anymore!"

The four Jacks stared at each other, bewildered.

"And then we're going to move on to Philip and Pip and all the rest. And there seems to be a bit of confusion over Dirty Dick -- are there two of them, do you know? Hmm, very puzzling. Now then, where was I...? Oh yes -- Dinah Mannering and Diana Lynton. What do you think? The same room together? Their first names are very alike."

"What do you WANT from us?" cried all four Jacks at once.

"Just a head count and a jolly good sort out," said the voice reassuringly. "We're all dashed confused up here in here in outer space, trying to keep track of you all down there. Hold on -- is Lucy-Ann the same as Lucian? They're on the same voyage together a year or two in your future, but... one's a girl and the other's a boy! Oh, how terribly confusing."

There was along pause. "Wait a moment," said the voice. "Did someone mention a cow called Daisy? I do have a room for Daisys, but only have one in there at the moment -- should I put the cow and girl together? Gosh, if I start including animals, well, we'll be here for the next thousand years... And as for Henry and Henrietta... oh, and Harry and Henry, otherwise known as the two Harries -- and then George and Georgina -- Is that a boy or a girl? Or both? Oh, I don't know! We seem to have a few Georges..."

Jack drew himself up. "Now look," he said importantly, imagining himself as the head of the Secret Seven instead of Peter. "I demand to be returned to the shed. The others will be wonrdering where I am. And it's not right for you -- whoever you are -- to simply kidnap us all and hold us in these... these cells!" Anger flared in Jack's heart, and he felt his face hotting up. "In fact, I think it's absolutely beastly of you to throw us together like this, just because we share the same names! Do you have any idea at all how much trouble you're going to be in after I've spoken to the nice police inspector? Now, return us at once!"

The farm lad looked surprised at this outburst, but he whistled and nodded approvingly. The small Jack positively glowed with awe, while Freckles patted himself on the shoulder as if absently looking for something that wasn't there.

The room was silent. Then the mysterious voice rumbled, "I see. Yes, I see. I suppose we were a little irresponsible, bringing you all up here. It's just that we admire you so... We follow all your adventures, you know. We shiver with fright when you crawl along tunnels in the darkness; tremble with anticipation when you sneak around towers and rescue princes; and we positively quake with horror when those nasty villains with guns pounce on you and threaten to do you harm. Ah, if my people had only half your courage, just a fraction of your enthusiasm for adventure and mystery... And we simply MUST study you and learn how you manage to eat such vast quantities of food."

Jack tapped his Secret Seven badge. "See this? I don't care who you are, or where you come from, but nobody comes up against the Secret Seven and gets away with it. If you don't release us at once, my friends will track you through space and time until they find us -- and then you'll be in very serious trouble indeed."

The farm lad mumbled something under his breath. It sounded like, "Unless they're all stuck here too."

The voice sighed heavily, and the room shook. "Very well. You shall be returned at once. We didn't mean any harm, we just wanted to figure out how many of you there actually are, and to see if any of you shared roles. For instance, I could have sworn that Jack Trent here was the same Jack who ran away to an island with Mike, Nora and Peggy. I see now that they're completely different boys, who happen to share the same name. All right, then -- just tell me where to drop you so I don't get your locations all mixed up."

"Drop me at Longfield Farm," said the farm lad.

"And me on the island," said the small Jack. "Er... the island on the lake. It doesn't have a name, because it's secret."

"And me at Craggy-Tops," said Freckles.

As all three boys vanished into thin air, Jack felt proud and happy.

"And you, my boy?" said the voice. "Where are we dropping you off?"

"Peterswood," said Jack. He frowned, struck by the sudden nagging feeling that something was wrong. It was Peterswood, wasn't it? Hadn't that been stated at some point during one of their adventures...?

...And in a moment he was back in fresh air, sitting on a patch of grass near a river. He looked about. He didn't recognize anything at all. "Where am I?" he wondered.

Then he became aware of a small black Scottie dog, nipping around the ankles of a large, red-faced policeman. "Clear orf, do you hear me? Clear orf!"

"Oh, gosh," moaned Jack. "This isn't right at all."

THE END

SHOCK FOR THE THRILLING THREE

"Oh bother" said Juliet, as she brushed her hair. "It is just not fair. Only one measly party in the whole of the Easter Hols and the only person who was any fun wore a mask all evening. And even he turned out to be one of those stuck-up people from next door that Mother won't let me play with. I must say, though, he did seem a pretty jolly sort, with that snub nose, those freckles and that funny tuft of hair that just won't lay flat. I bet he gets up to all kinds of mischief."

"Now then Miss Juliet, don't you go fretting yourself. When you frown, your pretty face gets almost plain. What a to do with getting all hot and bothered over those high and mighty children from next door. Your mother knows a thing or two about people and if she says they are not the sort of people to play with, then that ought to be good enough for you. Now, why don't I pop down to the kitchen and see if I can't find some of my freshly baked jam tarts and maybe a piece of my special gingerbread to put a smile back on that pretty face of yours."

"Oh Nursie. You always know just what to say to cheer me up" squealed Juliet and gave the surprised Nursie a sudden hug around her plump middle. "A jam tart is just the thing to stop me feeling horrid and cross. May I eat it on the balcony before going to bed? I always think food tastes so much nicer when eaten out of doors?"

"Go on with you, Miss Juliet. You are a caution that's what you are." said Nursie, as she made to leave the room. "I'll be back with those tarts in a jiffy. Now, mind you put on a jersey over that nightdress if you are going to be standing on the balcony in the night air."

"Good old Nursie" thought Juliet as she stood on the balcony, looking across the dark garden and up to the starry sky. Nursie always made things seem better. Especially when mother was being mouldy about the Montague children next door.

"Bother, Mother!" she said out loud, and heaved a deep sigh, "She is always so busy with her Good Works and arranging the flowers in the church that she doesn't seem to know much about having fun."

Mrs Capulet was a very good mother in so many ways. She made sure that the house was always neat and tidy when Juliet came home from school for the holidays, and she invited quite interesting people to tea. But she was also very strict about Juliet playing with what she called "our sort of people". In fact the only children in Verona Village that Mrs Capulet approved of were Juliet's cousin Tybalt and Paris, the rector's son.

In the Christmas holidays Juliet, Tybalt and Paris had formed a club called the Thrilling Three and they had had great adventures playing in the family mausoleum and discovering secret passages in the catacombs. One day they had worn their Red Indian costumes and stalked a group of village boys through the passages until their clothes were shockingly dirty. Then Mrs Montague from the house next door had sent a note to Mrs Capulet asking that the Capulet children keep away from the Montague family.

After that, Mrs Capulet told Juliet that she was not to have anything to do with Those Dreadful Children Next Door. Paris agreed with her and became quite pompous whenever the subject was mentioned. How strange that the only person who seemed to have enjoyed Juliet's birthday party should have been the Montague boy.

Juliet smiled as Nursie came out onto the balcony with a huge tray.

"Ooh thanks Nursie, you are a brick. Jam tarts, gingerbread and is that a hefty slab of your delicious kitchen cake?"

"That's right and there are six macaroons fresh from the oven, bread and butter, some sardine and egg sandwiches and a few fresh plums I picked just now from my tree by the kitchen door. I know what a young girl's appetite is like. Especially when she has just been to a party!"

"It was a smashing party, wasn't it Nursie?" said Juliet, grabbing a slice of cake. "And I thought the Montagu boy was rather fun. Even if Tybalt was really quite beastly about him. Nursie, don't you think Romeo is a silly name for a boy. He should refuse his name and choose another one quite different. After all, that which we call a rose, by any other name would smell as sweet."

"What nonsense you talk dear" said Nursie. "A rose by any other name would be a daffodil or a hollyhock, whatever it smelt like and that would only confuse the poor bees. And then where would we be for honey? Now then, don't stay out here too late. Nightie Night."

She kissed Juliet on the forehead and went indoors and downstairs to her room by the kitchen.

"I say"

The voice seemed to come out of nowhere. Juliet was startled and rushed to the edge of the balcony.

"Hullo, over here" came the voice, and Juliet peered in the darkness.

"Here, on the wall"

Suddenly the moon appeared from behind a cloud and Juliet saw a queer figure sitting on the garden wall. Red hair, sticking out teeth and a telegraph boy's hat, this was quite the oddest looking boy she had ever seen.

"Who are you?" she asked.

Suddenly the boy grinned, threw his cap in the air, pulled off his red hair and took out a most peculiar looking set of teeth and laughed. "It's me. Romeo Montague from next door. I thought I could smell fresh gingerbread from your side of the wall."

Juliet smiled. "Yes you were right. I've a big picnic tray here on the balcony. Far too much food for one person."

"Super" said Romeo and scrambled down from the high wall. "I've got some apples and tomatoes from my garden and my friend Mercutio gave me some terrifically sticky toffee. If I climb up to your balcony, shall we have a midnight feast?"

"Rather" said Juliet

"Smashing" said Romeo.

© Copyright Laurence Phillips.

The Mystery of the Trendy Togs

"Three weeks into the summer hols and not even a hint of a mystery!" said Pip sulkily, as he tucked into buttery scones and swigged a mug of cocoa.

"It's a pity Larry and Daisy aren't here," said Bets in a woebegone voice. "Fatty, being the Three Find-Outers and Dog doesn't sound half as nice!"

The Find-Outers were meeting in Fatty's shed at the bottom of the garden. Or at least, three of them were -- Fatty, Pip and little Bets -- because Larry and Daisy were away. Buster the scottie was there of course. He was never far from Fatty.

"Oh, I'm sure something will happen soon," said Fatty. "I saw Mr Goon earlier in the day, and he was weaving dangerously down High Street on his motorbike. As if that bobby wasn't enough of a menace on his bicycle!"

"We saw him too, going the other way," said Pip. "He looked as if he had more on his mind than chasing after dogs that were chasing sheep!"

"Here's Larry now," said Fatty suddenly. Buster gave a welcome bark as Laurence Daykin, or Larry as they called him, walked in a moment later.

"How did you know it was me, Fatty?" asked Larry, puzzled. "Daisy and I returned just this evening after a week at our gran's. You weren't expecting me, were you?"

"No," said Fatty with a grin. "But I knew it was you all the same. You see, your trousers entered the shed before you did!"

Larry looked at his flared jeans and frowned, as Bets gave a sudden giggle and Pip grinned from ear to ear.

"What's with the new threads, old chap?" said Fatty. "Thinking of outdoing me in disguises, eh? Pretty darned good if I may say so myself. All you need now are some sideburns and a Frank Zappa moustache, besides---"

Pip gave a hoot of laughter. He was annoyed that his strict parents didn't let him wear anything they didn't approve of, and being more than a little jealous of Larry's new freedom to dress as he wanted, he was glad to get a chance to laugh at him.

"Where's Daisy?" asked Bets. She was tired of all this talk of clothes, which she found too silly for words.

"Daisy? She's grounded at home after Daddy caught her trying to go out in a skirt that he insists is much too short. I left her arguing with him because I knew you would be meeting here, and I didn't want to miss out on the latest mystery. At least, I hope there's a mystery?" He looked hopefully at the others.

"No such luck," grumbled Pip. "Maybe you should try one of your outrageous disguises on Goon, Fatty, just to liven things up!"

"That's just it, Pip," said Fatty, gloomily. "There's no point disguising myself. Did you notice what people are wearing these days? Practically everybody looks as if they're in disguise -- or fancy-dress, at the very least. Feast your eyes on Larry, for instance."

Larry tried to look indignant, but as Buster was having a glorious time worrying his bell-bottoms, he was too preoccupied trying to prevent them from being ripped to shreds.

"That's right, Buster old chap! Cut him and his trousers down to size," said Pip cheerfully.

"Down, Buster! Come here!" yelled Fatty. "We don't want to have Larry go home in what looks like a tasselled skirt, and have *him* grounded for the rest of the hols as well!"

"That'll do," said Larry huffily. He was beginning to tire of all this leg-pulling. "Fatty, guess whom I met at your front gate as I came in?"

"Who was it? Goon?" said Fatty, hoping his old enemy had decided to break the truce that had prevailed for many weeks.

"It's Eunice," said Larry with a grin. "There -- I knew that would make you sit up."

"Eunice!" said Pip with a groan. "Do you remember the time she came to visit with that beetle-mad father of hers, and---"

"Well, I didn't see Mr Tolling," said Larry. "What are you searching for, Fatty? Not your jogging shorts, surely?" It had been a standing joke that the only way Fatty could escape from Eunice was to pretend to go jogging.

Bets felt sorry to see Fatty look so discomfited, but she knew Eunice wasn't really a bad sort, despite her bossy nature. She wondered what Fatty would say if she offered to take Eunice off his hands for part of the hols -- even if she *was* a bit scared of her!

"I expect mother will be down any minute, to ask me to be the perfect host," said Fatty with a groan. "Blow Eunice -- why did she have to descend on us when we had just a week or so of the hols left? It's just too bad!"

As Daisy and Fatty and rest of the crew
Obey Goon's commands re Orf-Clearing,
Thru turps and a stone, they go it alone
And rescue a Cat Disappearing.

A Room that is Secret, they spied from a tree
Though oftentimes they were forbidden
To meddle or more with the arm of the law
They sought out a House that was Hidden.

No matter how complex or tricky the case
We trust Master Frederick Trotteville
To source the eponymous Letters anonymous
Spiteful containing a lot of ill.

Ever in danger of taking a risk
Or entering ventures quite reckless
Re this and re that, like a Pantomime Cat
Or finding a quaint Missing Necklace.

O spare a thought for Theophilus Goon
Despite his endeavours so risible
To don new disguises, he won't win no prizes
For catching a Thief that's Invisible

When Princes they Vanish and Bundles are Strange
And Clear Orf asks questions in vain
Trust Fatty and Co to be in the know
Likewise when they're in Holly Lane

A whiff or a sniff of a mystery starts
And signs of adventure sure pressages
No matter the clue, they will know what to do
And decipher the Strangest of Messages.

With Buster the dog, four bikes and a shed
Can there be no end to their powers
They'll corner their foe, be it at Tally Ho
Cottage or in Banshee Towers.

So praise where it's due to the Peterswood crew
Raise lemonades and ginger beers
Tuck into a spread of potted meat bread
Five Find-Outers, Bravo, Three Cheers

© Copyright Laurence Phillips.

Five Have a Rollicking Secret Mystery of the Prisoner of Adventure
by JK Blyton

"Go on! 'Ave a good look at 'em 'Arry" Hagrid beamed as he ushered them into the strange looking teashop. "They won't bite yer, yer know! And nobody can see you under that Invisibility cloak"

"That's alright for you to say" muttered Ron "They won't see the three of us under Harry's cloak, But I don't think they will be used to seeing anyone quite like you, Hagrid"

As if in support of this statement, there was a sudden commotion from a table in the corner, where a group of children and a lively spaniel were tucking into a huge pile of buns, jam tarts and Bertie Bott's every flavour fish paste sandwiches.

"I say", said a tall good looking boy, of around 14, "there's something pretty suspicious about that chap who has just walked in.

"Gosh Julian, I think you may be right", said the small red haired boy with freckles, snub nose and irrepressible grin sitting next to him, "Hie Loony, you ass, leave that fellow's shoe laces alone. Loony! LOONY!. Barney, you'd better send Miranda over to rescue that man's shoes from Loony. he is being very crackerdog today".

At that, the little monkey leapt from the shoulders of the tall, tanned, shock-haired circus boy with the cornflower blue eyes, and jumped onto the spaniel's back. She held onto Loony's ears, like reins and proceeded to ride him like a racehorse. Surprised Looney raced round and round the tea room hoping to shake her off his back. But little Miranda held on for all she was worth.

How the children roared with laughter. "Go on, roll over" Snubby urged the spaniel. "You know that always gets rid of her!".

But before Loony could obey, a hand appeared as if from nowhere, waved a wand and a voice cried out in ringing tones "Simianus Ejectus!". At once Miranda flew upwards towards the ceiling and the little monkey found herself clutching the lampshade.

"What happened? How on earth did Miranda suddenly fly so high?" asked Ann in wonderment. All the children shook their heads in disbelief, and even Barney seemed surprised.

From underneath the Invisibility cloak, Ron's voice whispered. "Oh well done Hermione. That won't raise any suspicions now, will it!"

Hagrid lumbered over to Barney, who was trying to coax a gibbering Miranda back to safety underneath his shirt.

"Now that's a mighty magical little creature you have there, I don't mind saying. What do you call it?"

"Oh for heaven's sake" muttered Hermione in disgust. "He is a game keeper. Surely he can recognise a monkey?"

"A Mung Key?" queried Ron, "Is that a sort of Muggle House Elf, in charge of locking things away?"

"Shh" urged Harry. "I want to hear what they are saying. Listen".

Barney was holding out his arms for Miranda to jump into, and telling Hagrid all about the little monkey's tricks. Hagrid looked on with a doe-eyed expression, enchanted by the little wizened face peeking out from behind the lamp-shade.

"May I 'old 'er"? he asked "I'll give you anything you like in return"

"Certainly" said Barney, "But she is sometimes a little wary with strangers..." he stopped in surprise as the little monkey jumped straight onto the giant's shoulders and started whispering into Hagrid's big bushy beard. "Well, I have never known her take to a stranger so quickly".

Hagrid beamed. "Like I said, young feller, if there is enything I can do for you in return".

Barney blushed shyly and lifted his deep blue eyes to the giant. "Well there is one thing. I should really like to take a bath. I have been sleeping under haystacks for the past eleven months and have not been able to change my clothes, and I so like to look smart for my nice new friends Roger, Diana and old Snubby here.."

Hagrid beamed and pulled the cloak from the three young wizards. The other children gasped in amazement as Harry, Ron and Hermione came into view. "Go on, Harry. Here's a nice easy spell for you to try. You got your wand then?"

Harry looked uncertainly at the bemused Barney, pointed his wand at the teapot and cried out "potentus clenlinus". At once the spout of the teapot became a power shower, the sugar bowl grew inside until it had resembled the frosted glass of a shower cubicle, and from inside could be heard the sounds of Barney whistling to himself as he scrubbed his back.

Timmy growled fiercely at the huge and noisy sugar bowl, and George put her hands on his collar. She turned to the others and said "I don't like this one bit. It seems pretty queer to me. And that tall fellow sounds foreign to me. He must be up to no good. I am going to investigate."

Larry and Pip stood up. "You cannot possible go off on your own. You don't know what else these people are capable of," said Larry. "Pip nodded in agreement "Besides this is no place for a girl."

Before George could flare up, Barney emerged from his sugar bowl wrapped in a large fluffy bath towel and looking clean and refreshed. "Thank you, I needed that" he said, "If there is anything we could do for you in return, you just have to ask."

"Well as it happens there is something," came a clear voice from across the room. The children looked and saw a rather skinny boy of around 13 years old. he was wearing spectacles, yet the most noticeable thing about the boy, was the lightening shaped scar on his forehead.

"My name is Harry, and these are my friends Ron, Hermione and Hagrid" the boy began.

Barney shook their hands and introduced the rest of the group. "I am Barney, and Miranda and Loony you have already met. Let me present Snubby, Larry, Pip, Bets, Daisy, Julian, Dick, Ann, George, Timmy, Peter, Janet, Colin, Jack, George (the real boy), Pam, Barbara, Jack's annoying sister Susie, Philip, Lucy-Anne, Dinah, Diana, Roger, another Jack, Mike, Peggy, Norah, another Jack and Ern."

"Pleased to meet you" said Harry

"Coo" said Ern

"Ern" said Ron suddenly, "You aren't Ern Goon the famous poet by any chance are you?"

"Lumme" cried Ern, blushing furiously.

"Then your uncle must be Professor Theophilus Goon," Ron cried triumphantly

"Professor?" said Daisy in surprise, "But I thought your uncle was a policeman."

"He was" agreed Ern sadly. "But ever since Inspector Jenks told him he would have to lose weight to get into his old uniform, and he went on that hip and thigh diet, he has been more concerned about going after rogue calories than catching burglars and kidnappers and the like. My Ma said that he saw an advertisement in the newspaper for a professor to teach child ren about the dangers of fatty foods, so he disappeared. went away. Just cleared orf to teach in that school, Pigswill Academy, I think it was."

"Hogwarts" corrected Hermione. And there was a misprint in that advertisement in the Daily Prophet. It never should have read 'Wanted- Professor to teach Defence against the Dark Tarts'."

Hagrid picked up the story, "You see when Professor Goon arrived at Hogwarts and discovered that the position was actually about Defence against the dark ARTS, he blustered and flustered so much that he ended up fighting with Professor Snape."

Ron butted in "Snape was about to tuck into a big slab of Battenburg Cake, when Goon snatched the plate away from him, warning about the evils of overeating. Snape was so furious that he cast a spell on Goon making him part of the cake itself."

"And we need to track down every slice of Battenburg Cake to find out in which piece of cake Goon is imprisoned?"

"Imprisoned!" gasped Ann and Janet as one.

"Yes" intoned Hagrid sadly, "'E is a prisoner of Mah Zi Pan"

"Well now we are in the biggest tea and cake shop in children's literature all I need to do is summon every slice of cake in the world to appear at this table" interrupted Hermione in a brisk and businesslike manner. She drew out her wand, took a deep breath and called out "Exceedinglus Bona, Kiplingarius Facet!"

The other children looked on amazed as through every window and door hundreds of owls appeared dropping parcels of cake onto the tea table, until the pile of red and yellow slices threatened to reach the ceiling. All the children but one, however. Little Bets was gazing curiously at Hagrid.

"Fatty" squealed the little girl, and grabbed at the giants beard. "What an absolutely smashing disguise".

© Copyright Laurence Phillips.

From Anita Bensoussane:

The pore old horse lay in the field
And croaked instead of neighing.
"I hate to be a nag," he rasped,
"but heed what I am saying.

Eating dinner on the hoof,
Like grass and springy heather,
Is not without its risks, and now
I feel under the weather.

That yellow bush which looked so good
Has left me...well, quite hoarse.
So munch on barley, oats and hay -
But not on prickly gorse!"

From Keith Robinson:

How sad to see thee, pore dead pig,
When all ignore your cries,
The cows graze merrily in the fields,
Unaware of your demise.

How said to see thee, pore dead pig,
Lying there so still,
While hens cluck happily in their sheds,
You just lie there in swill.

How sad to see thee, pore dead pig,
You never hurt a fly.
The sheep baa rudely from afar,
As you stink up your sty.

How sad to see thee, pore dead pig,
Once so full of vigour,
You used to oink at the farmer's dogs,
Despite them being bigger.

How sad to see thee, pore dead pig,
Always a healthy fat sow,
Here comes the farmer to clear you away,
No grunts left in you now.

Visit here for some Blyton cartoons (unfortunately as they are stock cartoons I can't display them here without paying!)

Q: Why have elephants got big ears?

A: Because Noddy wouldn't pay the ransom.

Julian went red. "Maybe," he mumbled. He folded the newspaper he'd been reading and something slipped out on to the floor.

"My Chic Chick Magazine!" exclaimed Anne in surprise. "I was wondering where it had got to. I was sure I had left it on the table in the living-room."

"Oh - er - Uncle Quentin must have picked it up by mistake along with his newspaper," said Julian. "Sorry I didn't notice it, Anne. Still, at least you've found it now." And he laid down the paper and went off upstairs.

Half an hour later, he still hadn't reappeared. "Oh Anne, do go and see what Ju's up to," said George, impatiently. "Joan's packed us a super picnic for our hike over the common and Timmy's simply dying to go and chase a few rabbits."

"All right," said Anne. She went upstairs, her rubber-soled shoes making very little noise, and peeped into the boys' room. No-one there. That was odd. Then she heard a sound from her aunt and uncle's bedroom. Pushing open the door, she was surprised to see a girl seated in front of the mirror. A girl of about fourteen, with a flowery cotton frock remarkably like one worn the other day by Aunt Fanny, red ribbons in her hair and a rather unfortunate moustache shadow above her upper lip. And goodness me - was that really lipstick?

"Hello," said Anne, shyly. "Aunt Fanny didn't tell me we had a visitor."

"We don't," replied a voice that Anne recognised at once.

"Julian!" she gasped.

"No," he said. "Not Julian. I shan't answer to that any longer. From now on it's Julie-Ann."

Moonface: Persuaded to have his name changed to avoid hurting the religious sentiments of those who worship the moon, but went back on his word after he found himself named after a minor asteroid with its aphelion between Saturn and Uranus.

The Saucepan Man: Singling out saucepans was deemed detrimental to the psychological well-being of other pots and pans, so the Saucepan Man was forced to answer to the less suggestive name of Mr Utensil, and to wear a hearing aid to avoid any possibility of appearing to be insensitive to the needs of the hearing impaired.

Dame Washalot: Diagnosed with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, the good dame was commanded to stop washing up with immediate effect because it stereotyped "women's work", and ordered to outsource it to India. She tried to find a workaround by pouring the water down the slippery slip, but unfortunately drowned the Red Squirrel in the process and was jailed by animal rights activists.

Mr Whatzisname: The lack of a clear identity began to tell on Mr Whatzisname, who accused others of denying him his distinct native identity, and forcing them to address him by his rightful and legal name of Kollamoolitoomarellipawkyrollo, which essentially kept conversations involving him very short indeed.

Silky: Came to be called "Sulky" after she was embroiled in a bitter legal battle with an search engine over copyright infringement, for continuing to willfully distribute some inappropriately named buns. Her temper became even worse after she got busted for breach of the peace, along with the Angry Pixie (see below).

The Angry Pixie: Arrested by the police for having wild parties with Silky until the wee hours of dawn, and for slamming the door shut on the faces of those who came to complain. Now undergoing counselling for Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, after which he hopes to rejoin the gang as The Amiable Pixie.

"You are old, Uncle Theo," Ern Goon said,
"And your uniform's become very tight;
Yet you had sausages and mash for breakfast in bed
Do you think, at your age, it is right?"

"In my youth," scoffed Theophilus Goon,
"I was quite as lean as they came;
But now that I'm sure it's ages till noon
Why, I'll eat again and again."

"You are old," said Ern, "as I mentioned before,
And have grown most uncommonly fat;
Yet you ran double-quick in at the door--
Pray, what's the reason for that?"

"Gah!" said Mr Goon, as he rubbed his red nose,
"That dratted dog out there spells trouble;
That fat master of his is around too, of course
I wish I could hand 'em a couple."

"Coo, Uncle" said Ern, "You're far too big
To comfortably escape detection;
Yet you cover yourself well -- just look at that wig!
Pray, how do you manage such perfection?"

"In my youth," said Goon, "when I joined the force,
I learned the fine art of disguise;
And put in my best, and attended each course...
Well, promotion would've been nice."

"Lovaduck!" said Ern; "One would hardly suppose
That your brain wasn't as keen as ever;
Yet you keep getting fooled by a load of false clues--
You think you're so awfully clever?"

"Don't be cheeky, Ern -- that's quite enough,"
Frowned the policeman; "don't give yourself airs!
Do you think I can listen all day to such stuff?
Clear orf, or I'll kick you downstairs!"