a wall with a door in it, and in front of him there was a large window. On the other side of the window there was a large crowd of people pushing one another and pointing in his direction. Paddington decided with pleasure that they must be pointing at him. He stood up with difficulty, because it was hard standing up straight on top of a lot of tins, and pulled the pom-pom on his hat as high as it would go. A cheer went up from the crowd. Paddington gave a bow, waved several times, and then started to examine the damage all around him.
For a moment he wasn’t quite sure where he was, and then it came to him. Instead of going out into the street he must have opened a door leading to one of the shop windows!
Paddington was an observant bear, and since he had arrived in London he’d noticed lots of these shop windows. They were very interesting. They always had so many things inside them to look at. Once, he’d seen a man working in one, piling tin cans and boxes on top of each other to make a pyramid. He remembered deciding at the time what a nice job it must be.
He looked round thoughtfully. “Oh dear,” he said to the world in general, “I’m in trouble again.” If he’d knocked all these things down, as he supposed he must have done, someone was going to be cross. In fact, lots of people were going to be cross. People weren’t very good at having things explained to them and it was going to be difficult explaining how his duffel coat hood had fallen over his head.
He bent down and began to pick up the things. There were some glass shelves lying on the floor where they had fallen. It was getting warm inside the window so he took off his duffel coat and hung it carefully on a nail. Then he picked up a glass shelf and tried balancing it on top of some tins. It seemed to work so he put some more tins and a washing-up bowl on top of that. It was rather wobbly but… he stood back and examined it… yes, it looked quite nice. There was an encouraging round of applause from outside. Paddington waved a paw at the crowd and picked up another shelf.
Inside the shop, Mrs Brown was having an earnest conversation with the store detective.
“You say you left him here, Madam?” the detective was saying.
“That’s right,” said Mrs Brown. “He was feeling ill and I told him not to go away. His name’s Paddington.”
“Paddington.” The detective wrote it carefully in his notebook. “What sort of bear is he?”
“Oh, he’s sort of golden,” said Mrs Brown. “He was wearing a blue duffel coat and carrying a suitcase.”
“And he has black ears,” said Judy. “You can’t mistake him.”
“Black ears,” the detective repeated, licking his pencil.
“I don’t expect that’ll help much,” said Mrs Brown. “He was wearing his beret.”
The detective cupped his hand over his ear. “His what?” he shouted. There really was a terrible noise coming from somewhere. It seemed to be getting worse every minute. Every now and then there was a round of applause and several times he distinctly heard the sound of people cheering.
“His beret,” shouted Mrs Brown in return. “A green woollen one that came down over his ears. With a pom-pom.”
The detective shut his notebook with a snap. The noise outside was definitely getting worse. “Pardon me,” he said, sternly. “There’s something strange going on that needs investigating.”
Mrs Brown and Judy exchanged glances. The same thought was running through both their minds. They both said “Paddington!” and rushed after the detective. Mrs Brown clung to the detective’s coat and Judy clung to Mrs Brown’s as they forced their way through the crowd on the pavement. Just as they reached the window a tremendous cheer went up.
“I might have known,” said Mrs Brown.
“Paddington!” exclaimed Judy.
Paddington had just reached the top of his pyramid. At least, it had started off to be a pyramid, but it wasn’t really. It wasn’t any particular shape at all and it was very rickety. Having placed the last tin on the top Paddington was in trouble. He wanted to get down but he couldn’t. He reached out a paw and the mountain began to wobble. Paddington clung helplessly to the tins, swaying to and fro, watched by a fascinated audience. And then, without any warning, the whole lot collapsed again, only this time Paddington was on top and not underneath. A groan of disappointment went up from the crowd.
“Best thing I’ve seen in years,” said a man in the crowd to Mrs Brown. “Blessed if I know how they think these things up.”
“Will he do it again, Mummy?” asked a small boy.
“I don’t think so, dear,” said his mother. “I think he’s finished for the day.” She pointed to the window where the detective was removing a sorry-looking Paddington. Mrs Brown hurried back to the entrance followed by Judy.
Inside the shop the detective looked at Paddington and then at his notebook. “Blue duffel coat,” he said. “Green woollen beret!” He pulled the beret off. “Black ears! I know who you are,” he said grimly; “you’re Paddington!”
Paddington nearly fell backwards with astonishment.
“However did you know that?” he said.
“I’m a detective,” said the man. “It’s my job to know these things. We’re always on the look-out for criminals.”
“But I’m not a criminal,” said Paddington hotly. “I’m a bear! Besides, I was only tidying up the window…”
“Tidying up the window,” the detective spluttered. “I don’t know what Mr Perkins will have to say. He only dressed it this morning.”
Paddington looked round uneasily. He could see Mrs Brown and Judy hurrying towards him. In fact, there were several people coming his way, including an important-looking man in a black coat and striped trousers. They all reached him at the same time and all began talking together.
Paddington sat down on his case and watched them. There were times when it was much better to keep quiet, and this was one of them. In the end it was the important-looking man who won, because he had the loudest voice and kept on talking when everyone else had finished.
To Paddington’s surprise he reached down, took hold of his paw, and started to shake it so hard he thought it was going to drop off.
“Delighted to know you, bear,” he boomed. “Delighted to know you. And congratulations.”
“That’s all right,” said Paddington, doubtfully. He didn’t know why, but the man seemed very pleased.
The man turned to Mrs Brown. “You say his name’s Paddington?”
“That’s right,” said Mrs Brown. “And I’m sure he didn’t mean any harm.”
“Harm?” The man looked at Mrs Brown in amazement. “Did you say harm? My dear lady, through the action of this bear we’ve had the biggest crowd in years. Our telephone hasn’t stopped ringing.” He waved towards the entrance to the store. “And still they come!”
He placed his hand on Paddington’s head. “Barkridges,” he said, “Barkridges is grateful!” He waved his other hand for silence. “We would like to
