Let's Make a Trapeze! by Sandra Stoner-Mitchell |
Millie the Mole and Vicky the Vole were walking in the farmyard, heading towards the woods. They had gone straight home after school and done all their homework while it was still fresh in their minds. Now they had the rest of the day to themselves.
"I know where there is a really large hazelnut tree," Millie said, linking arms with her best friend Vicky the Vole, "and it's not far from here." "Have you brought the rope with you?" Vicky asked, looking at Millie the Mole's bulging haversack. "Of course I have. Isn't it going to be fun? Hey! Look, there's the tree. Didn't I tell you it was big?!" When the two girls were standing under the tree, Millie dropped her haversack onto the ground and took out the rope. "Oh dear," she said, looking up at the nearest branch. "It looks ever so high!" "It's too high to climb, and there is nothing to stand on." Vicky said, frowning. "Now what will we do?" As they were standing there trying to think of a way to get their rope up to the lowest branch, things began to fall off the tree. Just as Vicky the Vole looked up, something hit her on the head! "Ouch! What was that?" she yelped, rubbing her head. "It's Cyril the Squirrel...look...up there," answered Millie, pointing up to the highest branch. "He's eating nuts and throwing the shells down." "Cyril!...Come down...NOW," Vicky yelled up at him. "This is not a rubbish bin... come down here and pick these shells up." "You do it," Cyril yelled back. "Can't you see I'm having my tea?" Millie the Mole shook her head. "Cyril...that is not your tea. Now come on down; we need your help." Cyril looked at Millie and Vicky standing on the ground looking up at him. They needed his help--that was different. "Alright. I'm coming." Cyril stood up and swung from branch to branch, swinging away just as if he were flying. "Oh...Cyril is so lucky. He can almost fly like the birds." Millie whispered. "I wish I could do that." "Me too," sighed Vicky. When Cyril finally dropped to the ground, Millie went over to him and said, "We want to fly like that, but we can't. Can you help us, Cyril, please?" "I'll do what I can. But are you sure you want to go to the top of the tree and swing down?" "Oh, no!" Vicky said quickly. "But we can have a swing with this rope. We just need you to help us to get it onto the bottom branch up there." "I can do that," Cyril said, relieved. He didn't think the two girls would like to go up to the top of the tree. They weren't squirrels, or birds, his tail bristled at the thought. Cyril took the rope from Millie, then scampered up to the branch and tied both ends to the tree. "How is that for height?" he yelled down. "Does it need to be lower or higher?" "It's just right as it is." Vicky yelled back. When Cyril was back down again, he looked at the swing and frowned. "Hmmm...We need a seat for you to sit on." He looked all around, then he spotted something by one of the bramble bushes. He went over and picked up a flat piece of wood. "I don't know where this came from," he said, turning it over in his hands, "but it's just what we want." After a few minutes, it was ready. Millie just couldn't believe it...their very own trapeze. "We are going to be just like Miss Tilda the Toad on her flying trapeze!" She laughed and went over to give Cyril the Squirrel a big hug. "Thank you very much, Cyril!" Cyril turned red and looked away; he was really pleased they liked it. "Come on, then, let's see you both fly." Millie and Vicky sat on the seat and it began to swing to and fro. "Can you push us?" Vicky called out to Cyril. "We want to go higher." "Okay, but hold on tight." Cyril the Squirrel pushed and pushed, and the harder he pushed, the higher they wanted to go. Millie and Vicky were squealing with delight; it was just like they thought it would be. They could feel the wind in their faces; it was so exciting. After a while Cyril began puffing and panting until he couldn't push them any more. "I'm...sorry...can't...push...any...more." Cyril wheezed. Then suddenly he flopped to the ground, gasping for breath. He was wheezing so loudly, the two girls jumped off their swing and raced over to him. "Cyril, please don't die! We are so sorry for making you push us higher and higher." Millie the Mole cried out frantically. She and Vicky the Vole were so upset and so worried about their friend. Cyril the Squirrel sat up, panting, "I'm...not...going...to...die." He gasped. He took some more deep breaths, then grinned weakly. "Goodness...me, I'm not fit." He managed to say. "I must stop swinging and start walking." "Was it the swinging that made you poorly?" Millie asked, still very worried. "No...It's not really the swinging, but I should do more walking." He looked down at his feet, and then admitted, "I had too much to eat. I shouldn't have had all those nuts...but they are my favourite." "Oh, Cyril," said Vicky, "We shouldn't have asked you to keep pushing us. That was so unfair." Then Millie the Mole said, "It was really such good fun. But next time we will ask Reggie the Rat to come too, and Timmy and Tommy Mouse, then we can all take it in turns." And Cyril the Squirrel, now feeling so much better, said, "That would be tickety boo!"
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Sandra Stoner-Mitchell
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