Paddington At Large

Paddington At Large
Michael Bond

Peggy Fortnum

“Even Paddington can’t come to much harm in half an hour,” said Mrs Brown optimistically. But he can manage a lot of other things in even less time – like hanging Mr Curry’s lawnmower from a tree-top, or coming up through the bandstand floor during the ‘Surprise Symphony’.Then Paddington has a sticky time of it making toffee in Mrs Bird’s kitchen, and an even stickier time explaining what went wrong.And who else but Paddington could set Father Christmas’s beard on fire?

Copyright (#ulink_54cf4b85-dcf8-57e3-8af1-fd08ad009e29)

First published in Great Britain

by William Collins Sons and Co. Ltd. in 1962

This edition first published by HarperCollins Children’s Books in 1998 This edition published in 2018

HarperCollins Children’s Books is a division of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd, 1 London Bridge Street, London SE1 9GF

Visit our HarperCollins Children’s Books website at: www.harpercollinschildrensbooks.co.uk

Text copyright © Michael Bond 1962

Illustrations copyright © Peggy Fortnum

and William Collins Sons and Co. Ltd. 1962

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

The author and illustrator assert the moral right to be identified as the author and illustrator of this work.

Cover illustration adapted and coloured by Mark Burgess from the original by Peggy Fortnum

Source ISBN: 9780006753636

EPub Edition © JANUARY 2012 ISBN: 9780007461486

Version: 2018-05-23

Contents

Cover (#u5fa6cab1-4190-5016-ae9c-e80f24e1db58)

Title Page (#uba6f4150-a72c-5969-a0e8-5ef1b9b4cedd)

Copyright (#u8e8f7054-5903-5d8d-990a-f8b608aa283b)

1. Paddington Breaks the Peace (#uea028b24-5c8f-5f19-8c0e-66e01376ecf4)

2. Mr Gruber’s Outing (#uc50702f4-eb4f-52ad-b022-470d75d31428)

3. Goings on at Number Thirty-Two (#litres_trial_promo)

4. Paddington Hits the Jackpot (#litres_trial_promo)

5. A Sticky Time (#litres_trial_promo)

6. Trouble in the Bargain Basement (#litres_trial_promo)

7. Paddington and the Christmas Pantomime (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Author

Other books by Michael Bond (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter One PADDINGTON BREAKS THE PEACE (#ulink_5d9c730a-1ebe-5873-a236-420a69c1412b)

“I know I keep on saying it,” exclaimed Mrs Brown, as she placed an extremely large vegetable marrow on the kitchen scales, “but I’m sure Paddington must have been born with green paws. Have you seen this one? He’s beaten his best by over half a pound.”

“Hmm,” said Mrs Bird. “Well, I’ll grant you one thing, green paws are better than idle ones and at least gardening keeps him busy. We haven’t had an upset for weeks now.”

The Browns’ housekeeper hastily touched wood as her eyes followed the progress of a small brown figure clad in a shapeless hat and an equally disreputable-looking duffle coat as it made its way down the garden path before disappearing into a potting shed behind the raspberry canes.

Mrs Bird was never very happy about any of Paddington’s activities which took him out of her sight for too long a time, and Paddington’s interest in gardening had lasted much too long for her peace of mind.

All the same, even Mrs Bird had to admit that for some time past things had been remarkably peaceful at number thirty-two Windsor Gardens.

It had all started when Paddington arrived home from the market one day carrying a giant packet of assorted seeds which he’d bought for the bargain price of five pence. At the time it had seemed such good value for money that Mr Brown had been only too pleased to let him have a corner of the garden, and for several evenings afterwards Paddington had been kept very busy counting the seeds, making sure none of them were stuck to his paws as he sorted them into separate piles in order of size before he planted them.

Only Mrs Bird had been full of forebodings. “Woe betide the man in the shop if they don’t all come up,” she remarked when she noticed the seed packet had been marked down from fifteen pence. “I can see there’ll be some nasty scenes.”

But despite Mrs Bird’s misgivings, within a week or two the first of the seeds began to sprout and in no time at all ‘Paddington’s Patch’ was such a blaze of colour it soon put the rest of the garden to shame.

From that moment on Paddington spent most of his spare time out of doors, and when he began supplying the household with vegetables as well as flowers everyone had to agree with Mrs Brown that he must have been born with green paws.

“I must say the garden is a picture at the moment,” she continued, as she turned to help Mrs Bird with the washing-up. “Even Mr Curry called out this morning and said how nice it looks.”

“If I know Mr Curry,” said Mrs Bird darkly, “he was probably after something. He doesn’t say things like that without a very good reason.”

“Perhaps he wants some cheap vegetables,” said Mrs Brown. “You know how mean he is.”

“He’ll be lucky with that bear,” replied Mrs Bird. “And quite right too, seeing the state his own garden’s in. It’s a disgrace.”

Mr Curry’s lawn was very overgrown with weeds and Mrs Bird held strong views about the way the seeds blew over the fence whenever there was a strong wind.

“Funnily enough,” said Mrs Brown, “I think he was just getting his lawnmower out when he spoke to me. Perhaps he’s going to make a start.”

“Not before time,” snorted Mrs Bird. “And I shall believe it when I see it. He’s much more likely to give the job to some poor bob-a-job-week scout than do it himself.”

Mrs Bird gave the washing-up several nasty jabs with her mop, but if she had been able to see Mr Curry as she spoke she would probably have snorted even louder, for at that moment the Browns’ neighbour was peering over the fence at Paddington with a very cunning expression on his face.