more surprised. “Wait a minute – it wouldn’t be that thing we fished out just now would it? All sort of shapeless… like a… like a…” He tried hard to think of words to describe it.
“That sounds like it,” said Mrs Bird.
“Herbert!” called the man to a boy who was standing nearby watching the proceedings with an open mouth. “See if we’ve still got that wassname in the shed.
“It might well be an heirloom,” he continued, turning to the Browns. “It looks as if it’s been handed down a lot.”
Everyone waited anxiously while Herbert disappeared into a small hut by the side of the lock. He returned after a few moments carrying a bucket.
“We put it in here,” said the lock-keeper apologetically, “because we’d never seen anything like it before. We were going to send it to the museum.”
Paddington peered into the bucket. “That’s not a wassname,” he exclaimed thankfully. “That’s my hat.”
Everyone breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank goodness,” said Mrs Bird, echoing all their thoughts.
“There’s a fish inside it as well,” said the lock-keeper.
“What!” exclaimed Paddington. “A fish? Inside my hat?”
“That’s right,” said the man. “It must have been after your marmalade sandwich. Probably got in through one of the holes.”
“Crikey,” exclaimed Jonathan admiringly, as the Browns gathered round the bucket. “So there is!”
“That means Paddington’s won the prize for catching the first fish,” said Judy. “Congratulations!”
“Well, if it’s some kind of competition,” said the lock-keeper, “I’d better get you a jam-jar to put it in, sir.
“I suppose,” he said, looking rather doubtfully at the hat, “you’ll be wanting to wear it again?”
As Paddington gave him a hard stare he backed away and hurried off in search of a jam-jar. “There you are,” he said when he returned. “With the compliments of the Thames Conservancy.”
“Thank you very much,” said Paddington gratefully, offering the man his paw.
“Not at all,” said the man, as he stood on the side of the lock to wave them goodbye. “It’s a pleasure. After all, it’s not every day we have the opportunity of saving a bear’s heirloom from going over the weir. I shall remember today for a long time to come.”
“And so shall I remember it,” said Mr Brown as he stopped rowing somewhile later and let the boat drift lazily downstream in the current. “It may not have been the quietest day we’ve ever spent on the river, but it’s certainly the nicest.”
And the Brown family, as they lay back in the boat watching the shimmering water and listening to the music from the gramophone, had to agree.
Paddington, as he held on tightly to his hat with one paw while he dipped the other into a jar of his favourite marmalade, agreed most of all. Now that he had got his hat back and everything had been restored to normal he felt it was quite the nicest day he’d had for a long time.
Chapter Two PADDINGTON MAKES A BID
Paddington’s friend, Mr Gruber, laughed no end when he heard all about the trip on the river.
“Oh dear, Mr Brown,” he said, wiping the tears from his eyes, “things do happen to you. I wish I could have been there to see it all.”
It was the morning after the picnic and Paddington had hurried round as soon as possible to tell Mr Gruber about it.
Mr Gruber kept an antique shop in the Portobello Road. It was near the Browns’ house and Paddington usually called in when he was doing the morning shopping so that they could share a bun and a cup of cocoa for their ‘elevenses’. In his younger days Mr Gruber had been to South America and so they were able to have long chats together about Darkest Peru while sitting in their deck-chairs on the pavement. Paddington always looked forward to seeing Mr Gruber and he often lent a paw around the shop.
Most of the shops in the Portobello Road were interesting, but Mr Gruber’s was the best of all. It was like going into Aladdin’s cave. There were swords and old suits of armour hanging on the walls, gleaming copper and brass pots and pans stacked on the floor, pictures, china ornaments, pieces of furniture and pottery piled up to the ceiling; in fact, there was very little one way and another that Mr Gruber didn’t sell, and people came from far and wide to seek his advice.
Mr Gruber also kept a huge library of second-hand books in the back of his shop which he let Paddington consult whenever any problems cropped up. Paddington found this most useful as the Public Library didn’t have a bear’s department and the assistants usually looked at him suspiciously when he peered through the window at them.
After Paddington had explained to Mr Gruber all about his trip on the river they fell silent for a moment while they ate their buns and drank their cocoa.
It was while he was sitting back in his deck-chair admiring the view and watching the passers-by that Paddington noticed Mr Gruber’s shop window for the first time that morning. To his surprise it looked unusually empty.
“Ah,” said Mr Gruber, following his glance. “I had a very busy day yesterday, Mr Brown. While you were having high jinks on the river a big party of American visitors came round and they bought all kinds of things.
“As a matter of fact,” he continued, “I did so well I have to go to an auction sale this afternoon to pick up some more antiques.”
“An auction sale?” said Paddington, looking most interested, “What does it look like, Mr Gruber?”
Mr Gruber thought for a moment. “Well,” he began, “it’s a place where they sell things to the highest bidder, Mr Brown. All kinds of things. But it’s very difficult to explain without actually showing you.”
Mr Gruber rubbed his glasses and coughed. “Er… I suppose, Mr Brown, it wouldn’t be possible for you to come along with me this afternoon, would it? Then you could see for yourself.”
“Oooh, yes, please, Mr Gruber,” exclaimed Paddington, his eyes gleaming with excitement at the thought. “I should like that very much indeed.”
Although they met most days, Mr Gruber was usually busy in his shop and they seldom had the opportunity of actually going out together.
At that moment a customer entered the shop and so, having arranged to meet Mr Gruber after lunch, Paddington raised his hat and hurried back home to
