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For Peter and Wendy, Ozinger, Betsy and Ash
First published in Great Britain 1985
by Methuen Children’s Books Ltd
Reissued 2012 by Egmont UK Ltd
The Yellow Building, 1 Nicholas Road, London, W11 4AN
Text copyright © 1985 Jeff Brown
Illustrations copyright © 2012 by the Trust
u/w/o Richard C. Brown a/k/a/Jeff Brown
f/b/o Duncan Brown
First e-book edition 2014
ISBN 978 1 4052 0238 1
eISBN 978 1 7803 1219 4
A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
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CONTENTS
Mrs Lambchop was making breakfast. Mr Lambchop, at the kitchen table, helped by reading bits from the morning paper.
‘Here’s an odd one, Harriet,’ he said. ‘There’s a chicken in Sweden that rides a bike.’
‘So do I, George,’ said Mrs Lambchop, not really listening.
‘Listen to this. “Merker Building now empty. To be collapsed next week.” Imagine! Eight floors!’
‘Poor thing!’ Mrs Lambchop set out plates. ‘My, isn’t this a lovely sunny morning!’ She raised her voice. ‘Boys! Breakfast is ready!’
Her glance fell upon a row of photographs on the wall above the sink. There was a smiling Stanley, only half an inch thick, his big bulletin board having fallen from the bedroom wall to rest upon him overnight. Next came reminders of the many family adventures that had come after Stanley’s younger brother, Arthur, had cleverly blown him round again with a bicycle pump. There were the brothers with Prince Haraz, the young genie who had granted wishes for them all after being accidentally summoned by Stanley from a lamp. There was the entire family with Santa Claus and his daughter, Sarah, taken during a Christmas visit to the North Pole. There was the family again in Washington, DC, in the office of the President of the United States, who had asked them to undertake a secret mission into outer space. The last picture showed Arthur standing beside a balloon on which Mrs Lambchop had painted a picture of Stanley’s face. The balloon, its string in fact held by Stanley, had been a valuable guide to his presence, since he was invisible at the time. ‘Boys!’ she called again. ‘Breakfast!’
In their bedroom, Stanley and Arthur had finished dressing.
While Stanley filled his backpack, Arthur bounced a tennis ball. ‘Let’s go,’ he said. ‘Here! Catch!’
Stanley had just reached for a book on the shelf by his bed. The ball struck his back as he turned, and he banged his shoulder on a corner of the shelf.
‘Ouch!’
‘Sorry,’ Arthur said. ‘But let’s go, okay? You know how long – STANLEY!’
‘Why are you shouting?’ Stanley adjusted his pack. ‘C’mon! I’m so hungry –’ He paused. ‘Oh, boy! Arthur, do you see?’
‘I do, actually.’ Arthur swallowed hard. ‘You’re, you know . . . flat.’
The brothers stared at each other.
‘The pump?’ Stanley said. ‘It might work again.’
Arthur
