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Bumble of Giggling Gang (the Clumsy Squirrel)
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Date Posted: 20:45:55 10/20/06 Fri
Dear Treesap,
Well, well. "Dear Nuncle Bramble," indeed! And here comes my little neice to Redwall looking for all the seasons as if butter wouldn't melt in her dainty mouth. I've never seen a creature look as relieved as Elmbranch when he handed her over.
"Oh, aye," he said, when I asked him if Bumble minded her manners. "She apologized real pretty for that pea what she shot up my nose. Says she was shootin' at a cheeky sparrow that was makin' faces at her. And she always remembered to say,'Beg your pardon,' when she tripped over my tail which was at least three times a day. And she didn't mean to set her own tail on fire the second night we was out, but she was in a hurry to bring back the cookin' pot. But there was plenty of water in the pot, so I was able to put the fire out sharpish. All in all, it was much better than I thought it would be."
And that, dear sister, was Bumble's promising introduction to our Abbey. I promptly handed her over to the Badger Mother, Mellus, who took one look at her filthy smock and had it burned. Well, dear, you can't have expected it to hold up well for travel. Not with Bumble wearing it. It was covered in mudstains, dust stains, berry stains and every other kind of stain our darling neice could get on it. There were even bloodstains from when she walked into a tree and made her nose bleed.
She seems to be adjusting well to life in the dormitory, and she's quick enough at Abbey School. But imagine my chagrin when, at her very first dinner in Cavern Hole, she shot a pea at the Friar that smacked him right between the eyes!
I was horrified, but dear Mellus just leaned over to her and said, "Would you look at that dear! Some dreadful beast has shot the good friar with a pea. Of course, none of my dibbuns would do any such thing because they know that if the friar were hurt, he couldn't make their favorite Woodland Trifle. But they also know what I would do if I caught them. Don't you dears."
"Smack their paws!" cried one little hedgehog.
"Choppa they tails off!" said a baby mouse.
"And stew their ears for pudding," added one appalling leveret.
"Very nice," said Mother Mellus. "So glad you remember." And she gave little Bumble the loveliest smile, then added, "But, of course, a pretty little maid like you would never do such a thing."
Bumble sat there for a moment with her mouth hanging open in the most unbecoming fashion. "No marm. I wouldn't never do such a thing as that!"
That is the last I have seen of the peashooter, but the silly squirrel is as clumsy as ever. Just yesterday, she went barreling down the hall outside the dormitories and tripped and somersaulted tail over ears all the way down the those stone stairs. Now, don't worry, there's no damage done -- just a few bumps and bruises. She's made of sturdy stuff is our neice, but Mother Mellus was clearly concerned. She took Bumble aside for a stern talk.
"I only know one cure for clumsiness," she said. "And that is to SLOW DOWN."
Imagine Friar's surprise when he woke up this morning and found yellowy-brown, sticky paw prints all over the kitchens and Cavern Hole and the Great Hall and out into the orchard. We followed the sticky brown pawprints all the way to a corner by the wall where Bumble was curled up asleep with the most disgusting mess on her paws. The little nuisance had taken Mellus' admonition to heart.
"Bumble, you naughty dibbun," Mellus bellowed. "What have you been into."
Bumble blinked her eyes and looked way up at the irritated Badger Mother. "Please, Mother Mellus, it's a cure for clumsiness. It's peanut butter and honey and jam and lots and lots of sugar, and it's really sticky. I put it on my feet to make me walk slower."
Have you heard anything like it? Mellus and the Abbot have laughed all morning, but they made Bumble help clean up the pawprints all the same. Mellus decided that this and a good bath were punishment enough.
So, there you are. Really, she isn't so very naughty, exactly. She is a pawful. I'm glad it is Mellus who has to watch her and not me! I don't know how you've managed, Treesap. It's a wonder she didn't burn the grove over your head.
That is all for now, dear. Send my regards to the dear old Mugwump and tell him that the Abbot has saved him a barrel of the best October Ale. He can have it any time he cares to come by and visit. He and the rest of the tribe have a standing invitation to Redwall.
Love,
Bramble
Recorder of Redwall Abbey
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