Paddington Novels 1-3. Michael Bond

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Paddington Novels 1-3 - Michael  Bond

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cried Mrs Brown as a grubby-looking dog came bounding across the road. Paddington waved his suitcase. “Go away, dog,” he said sternly. The dog licked its lips and Paddington glanced anxiously over his shoulder as he hurried on, keeping close behind Mrs Brown and Judy.

      “Oh dear,” said Mrs Brown. “I have a funny feeling about today. As if things are going to happen. Do you ever have that feeling, Paddington?”

      Paddington considered for a moment. “Sometimes,” he said vaguely as they entered the station.

      At first Paddington was a little bit disappointed in the Underground. He liked the noise and the bustle and the smell of warm air which greeted him as they went inside. But he didn’t think much of the ticket.

      He examined carefully the piece of green cardboard which he held in his paw. “It doesn’t seem much to get for eighty pence,” he said. After all the lovely whirring and clanking noises the ticket machine had made it did seem disappointing. He’d expected much more for his money.

      “But Paddington,” Mrs Brown sighed, “you only have a ticket so that you can ride on the train. They won’t let you on otherwise.” She looked and sounded rather flustered. Secretly she was beginning to wish they had waited until later in the day, when it wasn’t quite so crowded. There was also the peculiar business of the dogs. Not one, but six dogs of various shapes and sizes had followed them right inside. She had a funny feeling it had something to do with Paddington, but the only time she caught his eye it had such an innocent expression she felt quite upset with herself for having such thoughts.

      “I suppose,” she said to Paddington, as they stepped on the escalator, “we ought really to carry you. It says you’re supposed to carry dogs but it doesn’t say anything about bears.”

      Paddington didn’t answer. He was following behind in a dream. Being a very short bear he couldn’t easily see over the side, but when he did his eyes nearly popped out with excitement. There were people everywhere. He’d never seen so many. There were people rushing down one side and there were more people rushing up the other. Everyone seemed in a terrible hurry. As he stepped off the escalator he found himself carried away between a man with an umbrella and a lady with a large shopping bag. By the time he managed to push his way free both Mrs Brown and Judy had completely disappeared.

      It was then that he saw a most surprising notice. He blinked at it several times to make sure but each time he opened his eyes it said the same thing: FOLLOW THE AMBER LIGHT TO PADDINGTON.

      Paddington decided the Underground was quite the most exciting thing that had ever happened to him. He turned and trotted down the corridor, following the amber lights, until he met another crowd of people who were queuing for the ‘up’ escalator.

      “’Ere,” said the man at the top, as he examined Paddington’s ticket. “What’s all this? You haven’t been anywhere yet.”

      “I know,” said Paddington, unhappily. “I think I must have made a mistake at the bottom.”

      The man sniffed suspiciously and called across to an inspector. “There’s a young bear ’ere, smelling of bacon. Says he made a mistake at the bottom.”

      The inspector put his thumbs under his waistcoat. “Escalators is for the benefit and convenience of passengers,” he said sternly. “Not for the likes of young bears to play on. Especially in the rush hour.”

      “Yes, sir,” said Paddington, raising his hat. “But we don’t have esca… esca…”

      “… lators,” said the inspector, helpfully.

      “… lators,” said Paddington, “in Darkest Peru. I’ve never been on one before, so it’s rather difficult.”

      “Darkest Peru?” said the inspector, looking most impressed. “Oh, well in that case” – he lifted up the chain which divided the ‘up’ and ‘down’ escalators – “you’d better get back down. But don’t let me catch you up to any tricks again.”

      “Thank you very much,” said Paddington gratefully, as he ducked under the chain. “It’s very kind of you, I’m sure.” He turned to wave goodbye, but before he could raise his hat he found himself being whisked into the depths of the Underground again.

      Half-way down he was gazing with interest at the brightly coloured posters on the wall when the man standing behind poked him with his umbrella. “There’s someone calling you,” he said.

      Paddington looked round and was just in time to see Mrs Brown and Judy pass by on their way up. They waved frantically at him and Mrs Brown called out “Stop!” several times.

      Paddington turned and tried to run up the escalator, but it was going very fast, and with his short legs it was as much as he could do even to stand still. He had his head down and he didn’t notice a fat man with a briefcase who was running in the opposite direction until it was too late.

      There was a roar of rage from the fat man and he toppled over and grabbed at several other people. Then Paddington felt himself falling. He went bump, bump, bump all the way down before he shot off the end and finally skidded to a stop by the wall.

      When he looked round everything seemed very confused. A number of people were gathered round the fat man, who was sitting on the floor rubbing his head. Away in the distance he could see Mrs Brown and Judy trying to push their way down the ‘up’ escalator. It was while he was watching their efforts that he saw another notice. It was in a brass case at the bottom of the escalator and it said, in big red letters: TO STOP THE ESCALATOR IN CASES OF EMERGENCY PUSH THE BUTTON.

      It also said in much smaller letters, ‘Penalty for Improper Use – £50’. But in his hurry Paddington did not notice this. In any case it seemed to him very much of an emergency. He swung his suitcase through the air and hit the button as hard as he could.

      If there had been confusion while the escalator was moving, there was even more when it stopped. Paddington watched with surprise as everyone started running about in different directions shouting at each other. One man even began calling out “Fire!” and somewhere in the distance a bell began to ring.

      He was just thinking what a lot of excitement pressing one small button could cause when a heavy hand descended on his shoulder.

      “That’s him!” someone shouted, pointing an accusing finger. “Saw him do it with me own eyes. As large as life!”

      “Hit it with his suitcase,” shouted another voice. “Ought not to be allowed!” While from the back of the crowd someone else suggested sending for the police.

      Paddington began to feel frightened. He turned and looked up at the owner of the hand.

      “Oh,” said a stern voice. “It’s you again. I might have known.” The inspector took out a notebook. “Name, please.”

      “Er… Paddington,” said Paddington.

      “I said what’s your name, not where do you want to go,” repeated the inspector.

      “That’s right,” said Paddington. “That is my name.”

      “Paddington!” said the inspector, unbelievingly. “It

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