quite sure he would have some more adventures – even if he didn’t know what they were going to be as yet.
Paddington lay back and pulled the blankets up round his whiskers. It was warm and comfortable and he sighed contentedly as he closed his eyes. It was nice being a bear. Especially a bear called Paddington.
* See A Bear Called Paddington
Contents
Paddington sat up in bed with a puzzled expression on his face. Happenings at number thirty-two Windsor Gardens, particularly breakfast, always followed a strict timetable and it was most unusual for anything to waken him quite so early.
He took a careful look around his room, but everything seemed to be in its place.
The photograph of his Aunt Lucy, taken shortly before she entered the home for retired bears in Lima, was on the table beside the bed, along with his jar of special marmalade and several other items.
His old hat and duffle coat were both hanging on the door peg, and his Peruvian centavos were under the pillow.
Most important of all, when he lifted the bedclothes and peered underneath, his small leather suitcase with its secret compartment containing his scrapbook and a number of important papers was still at the bottom of the bed.
Paddington heaved a sigh of relief. Although he had lived with the Browns for over a year he had never quite got used to having a room of his own and he wasn’t the sort of bear who believed in taking chances.
It was at that point, just as he was absentmindedly dipping his paw into the marmalade jar before going back to sleep, that Paddington pricked up his ears and listened.
There were voices – quite a number of voices – coming from the garden. Several times he heard a door bang, and then, in the distance, he heard a noise remarkably like that of clinking plates followed by the sound of Mr Brown shouting orders.
Paddington scrambled out of bed and hurried across the room to the window. It sounded most interesting and he didn’t like to think he might be missing anything. As he peered through the glass he nearly fell over backwards with astonishment at the sight which met his eyes. He breathed heavily on the window-pane and rubbed it with his paw to make sure he wasn’t dreaming the whole thing.
For there, on the lawn outside, all the Brown family – Mr and Mrs Brown and Jonathan and Judy – were gathered round a large wicker basket. Not only that, but as he watched, Mrs Bird, their housekeeper, came out of the kitchen carrying a huge plate piled high with sandwiches.
Paddington climbed off the window-sill and hurried downstairs. It was all very mysterious and it definitely needed investigating.
“Trust Paddington!” said everyone as he came through the kitchen door just as they were shutting the lid of the hamper.
“That bear can smell out a marmalade sandwich a mile away,” grumbled Mrs Bird.
“Honestly,” said Judy, waving her finger at him. “It was meant to be a surprise. We got up specially early.”
Paddington looked from one to the other with growing surprise.
“It’s all right, Paddington,” laughed Mrs Brown. “There’s no need to be alarmed. We’re only going for a picnic on the river.”
“And we’re having a competition,” cried Jonathan, waving a fishing net in the air. “Dad’s promised a prize to whoever makes the first catch.”
Paddington’s eyes grew rounder and rounder. “A picnic?” he exclaimed. “I don’t think I’ve ever been for a picnic on the river before.”
“That’s good,” said Mr Brown, twirling his moustache briskly. “Because you’re going on one now. So hurry up and eat your breakfast. It’s a lovely day and we may as well make the most of it.”
Paddington needed no second bidding, and while the Browns were busy packing the rest of the picnic gear into the car he hurried back indoors where his breakfast was waiting. He liked doing new things and he was looking forward to the day’s outing. One of the nicest things about living with the Browns was the number of surprises he had.
“I hope I’ve never ever done everything, Mrs Bird,” he said as she came into the dining-room to see if he’d finished his toast and marmalade. “I shouldn’t have any surprises left then!”
“Hmm,” replied Mrs Bird sternly, as she bundled him out of the room. “You’ll be getting a surprise if you don’t wash those bacon-and-egg stains off your whiskers before we go out. I’ve never known such a bear for getting in a mess.”
Paddington put on his injured expression as he disappeared into the hall. “I was only trying to be quick, Mrs Bird,” he explained.
Nevertheless, he hurried upstairs to the bathroom. There were several important things to be done before he went out for the day. First of all there was his suitcase to be packed, and then he had to consult his atlas. Paddington was very keen on geography and he was interested in the thought of having a picnic on the river. It sounded most unusual.
“I don’t know why it is,” said Mrs Bird, as she adjusted her hat for what seemed like the fortieth time, “but whenever this family goes anywhere it always takes enough to keep a regiment for a month.”
The Browns were packed into the car, jogging along the road towards the river. Besides the Browns, Mrs Bird and Paddington, there was the hamper, a gramophone, a pile of records, a number of parcels and some fishing nets – not to mention several sunshades, a tent and a pile of cushions.
Mrs
