Only on Sundays
By
Dorothy Cormack
Smashwords Edition
Published by Dorothy Cormack on Smashwords
Copyright 2011 Dorothy Cormack
This ebook is a work of fiction. All names characters and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or have been used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales or events is entirely coincidental.
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Only on Sundays
Once upon a time there was a little girl and a little woman, who lived in a little house; in a little street, in a little town. Now one would suppose that as they were little people, they would be called: the ‘Littles.’ But they weren’t, they were called the, ‘Puddens.’ There was Rosie Puddens and Mrs Puddens and Nana Puddens and Teddy Puddens. And then the littlest Puddens of all but the most important one was, Timothy the baby of the Puddens family.
Now one would think that as they were little people; living in a little house, on a little street, in a little town, that they would have a little cat. But they didn’t. They had a great, big, black cat called Barney. And the main reason that Barney was a great big cat was that he loved his food.
Mrs Puddens would take a great big container of cat mince out of the fridge every morning and Barney would purr and rub himself round her little legs, nearly knocking her over.
One night after tea Mrs Puddens said to Nana Puddens: ‘we can’t afford to buy all this cat mince. We won’t have money to buy ice-cream for the children this fortnight because the price of cat mince has gone up.’
‘Oh no,’ said Rosie Puddens.
‘Oh no,’ echoed Teddy Puddens.
‘We will go without our ice-cream,’ blurted Rosie, her little fist clamped over her little mouth.
Timothy Puddens started to cry because as every one knows babies don’t fully understand what’s going on, but they still know when something is terribly wrong in the family.
‘Barney has to have his cat mince because he’s a big cat not like us, who are only little Mummy,’ said Rosie. Her little face was contorted in horror at the thought of Barney crying because he didn’t get any cat mince.
So that week-end after their Sunday lunch which was a very special lunch for Puddens because they always had ice-cream after Sunday lunch. Timothy Puddens wouldn’t eat his peas because there was no promise of ice-cream to follow. Rosie and Teddy Puddens argued after lunch and got sent to their rooms. And Barney the big, black cat, lay on the lounge at the back of the house − asleep.
‘This won’t do at all,’ said Mrs Puddens to Nana Puddens. So they decided that only on Sundays would Barney have his cat mince and then the Puddens could have their ice-cream. That way every one in the Puddens household would be happy.
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