Uncle And The Treacle Trouble
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A great mural, commissioned by the King of the Badgers after the defeat of the Badfort crowd at Crack House, is to be painted on the wall at Homeward by Waldovenison Smeare. To protect the mural while it is being painted Uncle employs a watchman called Sleepy Sam, who sleeps in a wheelbarrow and is paid two loaves of bread and two quarts of Koolvat. Sleepy Sam is immediately put to work when Beaver Hateman tries to climb in through Uncle's window . . .
into which he had drilled his way. It was a huge room and seemed to be as big as the whole bottom floor of the tower. “What d’you mean by breaking down the wall of my room?” growled the voice. A huge old bear, once sooty black, but now sprinkled with silvery grey, was standing in the corner glaring at Cowgill. “Could you come and deal with this, sir,” said Cowgill, turning to Uncle. “Somebody is living in Grey Tower, after all.” “I was afraid of this,” said Uncle, peering in through the
that evening while they were all sitting round the fire and talking over the events of the day. Holding out his paw for his five shillings fee, he said that he had seen Beaver Hateman sitting at the bottom of his tank of Leper Jack, which on his escape from imprisonment in Badfort, Uncle had once set on fire. There was just a small pool of the liquor still there, and he was drinking some of it, and using the rest to try and get the tar off. Uncle felt it was likely that Beaver Hateman, hampered
said the King of the Badgers, glad that the staff at the palace was large, and that a useful haul of goods could therefore be expected. A notice was put up outside Grey Tower saying: Opening of Distribution Scheme for goods from Lonely Tower will be at 11 a.m. tomorrow. Don’t push! Many hundreds of wolves, foxes and bears had spent the night with piles of cartons and handcarts around them, while the ground looked as if it was carpeted with badgers clutching bags and baskets. There were also
eighty-four. The jacket to the first edition of Uncle notes that “the inspiration for these stories seems to come from the industrial landscape that [Martin] knew as a child….He still likes to take his family and friends on walks through industrial scenes. He also enjoys painting the wild and beautiful landscape where he lives. It is not enough to say he loves children; he is still continually visited by them.” Quentin Blake is one of the most celebrated children’s book illustrators working
had been completely outwitted by Beaver Hateman and had been living a hard life ever since. He sat down in the big red armchair the Old Monkey pulled forward, and sighed heavily. His black hair, usually so neatly parted in the middle, was falling over his sweaty forehead. “I know it’s not very good manners, sir,” he said, “but would you mind if I took my shoes off? My feet are nearly worn out. I had such a walk yesterday that I haven’t got over it yet.” “Where to?” asked Uncle. “A place called