The Clumsies Make a Mess of the Zoo. Sorrel Anderson

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      Dedication

      For Carol, Freda and Jane

      img also make a mess in:

      The Clumsies Make a Mess

      The Clumsies Make a Mess of the Seaside

      The Clumsies Make a Mess of the Big Show

      Contents

       Cover

       Title Page

       Dedication

      Nervous Exhaustion

      Welcome to the Zoo

      Raspberry Recovery Part 1

      Raspberry Recovery Part 2

      Copyright

       About the Publisher

      Nervous Exhaustion

      It was a Tuesday morning and everyone in the office was feeling cheerful. Howard was humming a tune and reading a magazine. Purvis and Mickey Thompson were playing a game and eating crisps. And Ortrud the very small elephant was frolicking, knocking things over.

      ‘LOOK OUT,

       HOWARD,’

       shouted Purvis, as Ortrud crashed into the coat-stand.

      ‘Oof,’ said Howard, as the coat-stand narrowly missed him.

      ‘That was close,’ said Mickey Thompson.

      ‘It’s ever so nice when Mr Bullerton’s away, isn’t it, Howard?’

      ‘Yes,’ said Howard. ‘Ever so.’

      ‘How long do you think he’ll be gone?’ asked Purvis.

      ‘Who can tell?’ said Howard. ‘I heard he’s been told by his doctor to have a long rest. He’s suffering from Nervous Exhaustion.’

      Purvis gasped and Mickey Thompson dropped his bag of crisps. ‘Quite,’ said Howard.

      ‘Are you sure?’ asked Purvis.

      ‘I have it on good authority,’ said Howard.

      ‘Gosh,’ said Mickey Thompson. ‘Nervous Exhaustion, eh?’

      ‘Bit of a shock, isn’t it?’ said Howard, flicking through his magazine.

      ‘Yes,’ chorused the mice.

      ‘I wouldn’t have thought it, would you?’ said Howard.

      ‘No,’ chorused the mice.

      Howard resumed his humming and the mice exchanged glances. Mickey Thompson raised an eyebrow at Purvis, and Purvis shrugged. Mickey Thompson prodded Purvis, and Purvis coughed.

      ‘Er, Howard?’ said Purvis.

      ‘Mmm?’ said Howard.

      ‘What’s Nervous Exhaustion

      ‘Hazard a wild guess,’ said Howard.

      ‘Feeling nervous?’ hazarded Purvis.

      ‘And?’ said Howard.

      ‘Exhausted,’ said Purvis.

      ‘Exactly,’ said Howard.

      Mickey Thompson selected a crisp and ate it, worriedly.

      ‘So what you’re saying,’ he said, ‘is he’s spooked and pooped.’

      ‘If you must,’ said Howard.

      ‘Poop

       poopedy

       pooped,’

      said Mickey Thompson, loudly, and Ortrud started trumpeting.

      ‘Enough,’ said Howard.

      ‘But it isn’t like him,’ said Purvis. ‘Mr Bullerton’s normally so… so…’

      ‘Bossy,’ said Mickey Thompson.

      ‘Yes,’ said Howard, ‘and…’

      ‘Shouty,’ said Purvis.

      ‘Yes,’ said Howard, ‘and…’

      ‘S t o m p y,’said Mickey Thompson.

      ‘Yes,’ said Howard, ‘and…’

      ‘Angry,’ said Purvis.

      Howard thumped the magazine down on the desk.

      ‘And,’ he said.

      ‘And what, Howard?’ asked Purvis.

      ‘And now I can’t remember what I wanted to say,’ said Howard.

      ‘He’s getting forgetful,’ muttered Mickey Thompson, to Purvis.

      ‘What?’ said Howard.

      ‘It’s a symptom,’ said Mickey Thompson.

      ‘What is?’ said Howard.

      ‘Forgetfulness,’ said Mickey Thompson, cheerfully. ‘You’re growing elderly.’

      ‘WHAT!’ shouted Howard.

      ‘We were discussing Mr Bullerton,’ explained Purvis.

      ‘I know we were,’ said Howard. ‘I am well aware of that, thank

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