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THE TALE OF MR. BUSYBODY |
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To think that they had once belonged to the old bad witch, Oddme-dodd! Dear, dear, dear!
Mister Busybody went back home that night and dreamed all about the shoes. He got up the next morning still thinking about them, and he wondered where Old Man Jog-About kept them when he wasn't showing them to people.
" He ought to keep them somewhere safe," thought Busybody. " He ought to have a big wooden box for them with a fine fat key. I don't expect he has, though! Folk are very stupid. I shouldn't be a bit surprised if he keeps them in an ordinary shoe-bag! Yes, and one day they'll be stolen! "
Busybody sat down to his breakfast, quite worried about where Jog-About kept the magic shoes. He got up from his porridge and treacle halfway through his breakfast and went to peep through the curtains at the field opposite, where the old magician had his tent.
Pipkin, the little servant, was outside the tent, cleaning the buttons on his tunic and whistling loudly.
" Dear dear! ' said Busybody, ' what a way to clean buttons! Doesn't even take his tunic off! Fancy Old Man Jog-About having a servant as lazy as that. And goodness me—what's he doing now ? "
Mister Busybody stared through the curtains and gaped in astonishment—for Pipkin was cleaning a pair of red and yellow shoes with a dirty old duster. |
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Thieves, robbers, wake up.: |
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