Spyro's trolley race
Fisher: Trouble with the trolley, eh?
Damon: The country of the Greedy, well known in history, was ruled by a king who had much trouble.
Cleetus: His subjects were well behaved, but they had one sad fault: they were too fond of pies and tarts.
Lindar: It was as disagreeable to them to swallow a spoonful of soup as if it were so much sea water, and it would take a policeman to make them open their mouths for a bit of meat, either boiled or roasted.
Hunter: This deplorable taste made the fortunes of the pastry cooks, but also of the apothecaries.
Billy: Families ruined themselves in pills and powders; camomile, rhubarb, and peppermint trebled in price, as well as other disagreeable remedies, such as castor — which I will not name.
Hunter: The King of the Greedy sought long for the means of correcting this fatal passion for sweets, but even the faculty were puzzled.
Cleetus: "Your Majesty," said the great court doctor, Olibriers, at his last audience, "your people look like putty! They are incurable; their senseless love for good eating will bring them all to the grave."
Moneybags: This view of things did not suit the King.
Bentley: He was wise, and saw very plainly that a monarch without subjects would be but a sorry king.
Nestor: Happily, after this utter failure of the doctors, there came into the mind of His Majesty a first-class idea: he telegraphed for Mother Sheila, the most celebrated of all pastry cooks.
Damon: Mother Sheila soon arrived, with her black cat, Fanfreluche, who accompanied her everywhere.
Spyro: He was an incomparable cat.
Pogo: He had not his equal as an adviser and a taster of tarts.
Spyro: Mother Sheila having respectfully inquired what she and her cat could do for His Majesty, the King demanded of the astonished pastry cook a tart as big as the capitol—bigger even, if possible, but no smaller! When the King uttered this astounding order, deep emotion was shown by the chamberlains, the pages, and lackeys.
Pogo: Nothing but the respect due to his presence prevented them from crying "Long live Your Majesty!" in his very ears.
Cleetus: But the King had seen enough of the enthusiasm of the populace, and did not allow such sounds in the recesses of his palace.
Nestor: The King gave Mother Sheila one month to carry out his gigantic project. "It is enough," she proudly replied, brandishing her crutch.
Sparx: Then, taking leave of the King, she and her cat set out for their home.
Astor: On the way Mother Sheila arranged in her head the plan of the monument which was to immortalize her, and considered the means of executing it.
Lateef: As to its form and size, it was to be as exact a copy of the capitol as possible, since the King had willed it; but its outside crust should have a beauty all its own.
Nestor: The dome must be adorned with sugarplums of all colours, and surmounted by a splendid crown of macaroons, spun sugar, chocolate, and candied fruits.
Spyro: It was no small affair.
Bubba: Mother Sheila did not like to lose her time.
Magnus: Her plan of battle once formed, she recruited on her way all the little pastry cooks of the country, as well as all the tiny six-year-olds who had a sincere love for the noble callings of scullion and apprentice.
Tomas: There were plenty of these, as you may suppose, in the country of the Greedy; Mother Sheila had her pick of them.
Damon: Mother Sheila, with the help of her crutch and of Fanfreluche, who miaowed loud enough to be heard twenty miles off, called upon all the millers of the land, and commanded them to bring together at a certain time as many sacks of fine flour as they could grind in a week.
Moneybags: There were only windmills in that country; you may easily believe how they all began to go.
Sheila: B-r-r-r-r-r! What a noise they made!
Lateef: The clatter was so great that all the birds flew away to other climes, and even the clouds fled from the sky.
Hunter: At the call of Mother Sheila all the farmers' wives were set to work; they rushed to the hencoops to collect the seven thousand fresh eggs that Mother Sheila wanted for her great edifice.
Professor: Deep was the emotion of the fowls.
Nestor: The hens were inconsolable, and the unhappy creatures mourned upon the palings for the loss of all their hopes.
Damon: The milkmaids were busy from morning till night in milking the cows.
Delbin: Mother Sheila must have twenty thousand pails of milk. All the little calves were put on half rations.
Astor: This great work was nothing to them, and they complained pitifully to their mothers.
Spyro: Many of the cows protested with energy against this unreasonable tax, which made their young families so uncomfortable.
Magnus: There were pails upset, and even some milkmaids went head over heels. But these little accidents did not chill the enthusiasm of the labourers.
Delbin: And now Mother Sheila called for a thousand pounds of the best butter.
Lindar: All the churns for twenty miles around began to work in the most lively manner.
Sheila: Their dashers dashed without ceasing, keeping perfect time.
Nestor: The butter was tasted, rolled into pats, wrapped up, and put into baskets. Such energy had never been known before.
Sheila: Mother me passed for a sorceress. It was all because of her cat, Fanfreluche, with whom she had mysterious doings and pantomimes, and with whom she talked in her inspired moments, as if he were a real person.
Bentley: Certainly, since the famous "Puss in Boots," there had never been an animal so extraordinary; and credulous folks suspected him of being a magician.
Tomas: Some curious people had the courage to ask Fanfreluche if this were true; but he had replied by bristling, and showing his teeth and claws so fiercely, that the conversation had ended there.
Sgt. Byrd: Sorceress or not, Mother Sheila was always obeyed.
Bartholomew: No one else was ever served so punctually.
Moneybags: On the appointed day all the millers arrived with their asses trotting in single file, each laden with a great sack of flour.
Spyro: Mother Sheila, after having examined the quality of the flour, had every sack accurately weighed.
Tomas: This was head work and hard work, and took time; but Mother Sheila was untiring, and her cat, also, for while the operation lasted he sat on the roof watching.
Sgt. Byrd: It is only just to say that the millers of the Greedy Kingdom brought flour not only faultless but of full weight.
Professor: They knew that Mother Sheila was not joking when she said that others must be as exact with her as she was with them.
Sheila: Perhaps also they were a little afraid of the cat, whose great green eyes were always shining upon them like two round lamps, and never lost sight of them for one moment.
Moneybags: All the farmers' wives arrived in turn, with baskets of eggs upon their heads.
Pogo: They did not load their donkeys with them, for fear that in jogging along they would become omelettes on the way.
Bubba: Mother Sheila received them with her usual gravity.
Astor: She had the patience to look through every egg to see if it were fresh.
Bartholomew: She did not wish to run the risk of having young chickens in a tart that was destined for those who could not bear the taste of any meat however tender and delicate.
Bentley: The number of eggs was complete, and again Mother Sheila and her cat had nothing to complain of.
Sheila: This Greedy nation, though carried away by love of good eating, was strictly honest.
Spyro: It must be said that where nations are patriotic, desire for the common good makes them unselfish.
Nestor: Mother Sheila's tart was to be the glory of the country, and each one was proud to contribute to such a great work.
Damon: And now the milkmaids with their pots and pails of milk, and the buttermakers with their baskets filled with the rich yellow pats of butter, filed in long procession to the right and left of the cabin of Mother Sheila.
Sgt. Byrd: There was no need for her to examine so carefully the butter and the milk.
Spyro: She had such a delicate nose that if there had been a single pat of ancient butter or a pail of sour milk she would have pounced upon it instantly.
Fisher: But all was perfectly fresh. In that golden age they did not understand the art, now so well known, of making milk out of flour and water.
Sparx: Real milk was necessary to make cheesecakes and ice cream and other delicious confections much adored in the Greedy Kingdom.
Lateef: If any one had made such a despicable discovery, he would have been chased from the country as a public nuisance.
Bartholomew: Then came the grocers, with their aprons of coffee bags, and with the jolly, mischievous faces the rogues always have.
Pogo: Each one clasped to his heart a sugar loaf nearly as large as himself, whose summit, without its paper cap, looked like new-fallen snow upon a pyramid.
Tomas: Mother Sheila, with her crutch for a baton, saw them all placed in her storerooms upon shelves put up for the purpose.
Bartholomew: She had to be very strict, for some of the little fellows could hardly part from their merchandise, and many were indiscreet, with their tongues behind their great mountains of sugar.
Lindar: If they had been let alone, they would never have stopped till the sugar was all gone.
Professor: But they had not thought of the implacable eye of old Fanfreluche, who, posted upon a water spout, took note of all their misdeeds.
Spyro: From another quarter came a whole army of country people, rolling wheelbarrows and carrying huge baskets, all filled with cherries, plums, peaches, apples, and pears.
Magnus: All these fruits were so fresh, in such perfect condition, with their fair shining skins, that they looked like wax or painted marble, but their delicious perfume proved that they were real.
Cleetus: Some little people, hidden in the corners, took pains to find this out. Between ourselves, Mother Sheila made believe not to see them, and took the precaution of holding Fanfreluche in her arms so that he could not spring upon them.
Delbin: The fruits were all put into bins, each kind by itself.
Bartholomew: And now the preparations were finished.
Astor: There was no time to lose before setting to work.
Spyro's trolley race
Spyro get hurt
Fisher: Trouble with trolley, eh?
To be continued