Author:
Bumble (Giggling Gang) (Exceedingly Mournful)
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Date Posted: 02:12:34 10/04/06 Wed
My Dear Uncle Bramble,
I write to you in great distress. Indeed, I'm fair wringing out my tail for the grief of it. Here is Bumble, got to be sent away, and what I am to do with her I don't know. But I'd better tell you.
It all came to a head last night. Of course, Bumble really is a good little beast. Really she is. Only she's a mite boisterous from time to time. And cheeky, but only once in a great while.
Well, you know our tribe has the most dreadful cook. (Yes, yes, I know, Bramble. I'm coming to the point.) She was really off her form last night, and she never had much form to begin with. Such trifle as she makes! But never mind that. The stew she made last night was just awful.
"Urgh," said the Mugwump, making himself swallow a mouthful. "That takes the prize! What'd old Barkswallow make it out of this time? Adders' eggs and ditchwater. Here," he says, turning to me. "You cook some soup."
Well, you know how I always love the chance to make dear old mum's Autumn Chestnut Soup. I set to work right away. And, really, I only looked away from the pot once, for just a few minutes, while I gathered some herbs to add.
But I hadn't gotten around to tasting it, more's the pity, when the Mugwump sees me stirring away and comes over to taste it himself.
"That smells more like something good," he says. "Pass me that spoon and let's see how it tastes."
So, I gave it to him, little suspecting. Imagine, my astonishment, Bramble, when the he choked and spluttered and spewed Chestnut soup every which way. I thought I had killed the poor beast, and I had to thump and thump on his back 'til he was able to speak again.
"Oh, what is it?" I cried. "Whatever is the matter?"
"Dreadful brew!" he said. "Just ghastly."
And then I started to cry, for you know, dear Bramble, how much I have always cherished mother's recipe for Autumn Chestnut Soup.
"Here, here," he said, most gently, for he always is a creature is the Mugwump. Or almost always. "Let's see what's here, Briscol, for there may be something come into your soup that ought not to be there." He had a funny look in his eye, and I should have known what was coming.\r
Well, he fished around in the soup and what should he stir up but great ladlefuls of nettles! In my soup! The next thing I knew, he had hauled poor Bumble by the tail, holding her (upside down, no less) just eye to eye with himself.
"Perhaps, missy," he says, real stern, "you can tell me just how those nettles got into the soup?"
"I was only helping Auntie Briscol do what you told her," she wailed.
"Oho," the Mugwump roared. "I said nothing about nettles. All I said was for her to cook some soup."
The little dear answered him, just as innocent as could be, "But I thought you said THE COOK HAD CROUPE. Auntie Briscol always says there's nothing like good warm nettle broth when a beast has the croupe."
And so I always do. Fancy the little dear remembering. Anyway, the Mugwump couldn't do nought but splutter some more, only without the spewing, and finally went off in a huff. Oh, I do hate to see him so upset. And this on top of that pea-shooter incident last week. I've given up taking those away from her -- last time she whittled out another one in ten minutes flat. And there was that nasty accident in climbing practice day before yesterday. Whoever heard of a clumsy squirrel? She does her best I'm sure, but she won't remember to keep her tail up and she is forever tripping over it. Oh, and I suppose she shouldn't have been so cheeky about the apple trifle, but really, Old Barkswallow is a disgrace of a cook.
Anyway, with one thing and another, I think it may be time for poor Bumble to have a change of scenery. Leastaways, until things quiet down here. Do be a good Nuncle Bramble to your little neice and let her visit you for a while at that lovely Abbey. I'm sure a Badger Mother would be so much better for her than a crusty old Mugwump. Though, indeed, he really is the best of beasts. I'd bring her myself, only where should I live if not with the tribe. It's the only life I've known. But perhaps my little Bumble will find another path for herself. Elmbranch has offered to bring her to your Abbey as he has been planning to travel there himself. Only he says he won't be responsible for any damage she does to herself on the way. I can't imagine why he thought he needed to say any such thing.
Do give my love to all our friends at Redwall. And please, please look after my little Bumble.
Your affectionate sister,
Treesap
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