Paddington Marches On. Michael Bond

      Mr Brown looked up from his morning paper as a burst of hammering shook the dining-room. “I shall be glad when they’ve finished next door,” he said. “They’ve been at it for days now. What on earth’s going on?”

      “I don’t know,” said Mrs Brown, as she poured out the coffee. “Mr Curry’s got the builders in. I think it’s something to do with his bathroom. He’s been acting strangely all week. He came round specially the other evening to give Paddington ten pence, and several mornings he’s sent the baker round with a bun.”

      “Mr Curry gave Paddington ten pence?” echoed Mr Brown, lowering his paper.

      “I think he had a nasty accident during the cold weather,” said Mrs Bird. “He’s having a complete new bathroom paid for by the insurance company.”

      “Trust Mr Curry to get it done for nothing,” said Mr Brown. “Whenever I try to claim anything from my insurance company there’s always a clause in small print at the bottom telling me I can’t.”

      “Oh,” said Mrs Bird. “I have a feeling this was more of a paws than a clause. It’s what Mr Curry calls an ‘act of bear’.”

      “An act of bear?” repeated Mr Brown.“I’ve never heard of that one before.”

      “It’s very rare,” said Mrs Bird. “Very rare indeed. In fact it’s so rare I don’t think we shall hear of it again, do you, Paddington?”

      The Browns turned towards Paddington, or what little could be seen of him from behind a large jar of his special marmalade from the cut-price grocer in the market. But the only sound to greet them was that of crunching toast as he busied himself with his breakfast.

      Paddington could be very hard of hearing when he chose. All the same, there was a look about him suggesting that Mrs Bird was right and that as far as one member of the household was concerned bathrooms were safe from ‘acts of bear’ for many winters to come.