Glenda the Wendle Chapter 2

Chapter 2.

 

THE Wendle ball.

Glenda the Wendle wended her way through Feggy Wood. She was feeling very sad and sorry for herself. Try as she might, she could not find another Wendle to play with. She had found Brenda the Wendle a few days before, but when they played their favourite game of Hide and Go Seek, Brenda had hidden so well that Glenda could not find her

You may be wondering why Glenda could not find Brenda. As you probably know, any Wendle can stand next to a tree in Feggy Wood and disappear. Even another Wendle could not see a Wendle stood by a tree.

That is probably why you have never seen one. Next time you see a thick tree trunk covered in twigs, leaves, moss, and mud, look more closely—it just may well be a Wendle.

Wendles have a very good sense of smell, but Wendles smell the same as the trees and plants in Feggy Wood so, a Wendle would not be able to smell another Wendle.

Wendles have very good hearing, but Wendles can stand so still that they make no noise so another Wendles could not hear them.

Glenda gave a great big sigh. It was such a sad sound that the trees, which heard it, thought it was autumn and dropped some leaves.

A squarrel jumped down from a tree onto a stump next to Glenda. “Hello,” it snuffled.

“Hello yourself,” said Glenda.

 

 

 

The Squarrel.

 “I don't suppose you have seen any other squarrels around, have you?” asked the squarrel. “Only I have woven a lovely nest of twigs up in the tree, and I need someone to share it with.”

“Sorry,” said Glenda. “I don't suppose you have seen any other Wendles around, have you?”

“Sorry,” said the squarrel.

“We had better keep on looking then,” said Glenda sadly.

The two of them wended their way through Feggy Wood.

The next creature they met was a tummycrawler. It was sat on a log. “Hello,” it hissed.

 

 

 

 

The tummycrawler.

“Hello yourself,” said Glenda and the squarrel.

“I don't suppose you have seen any other tummycrawlers around, have you?” asked the tummycrawler.

. “Only I have made a nest of grass in this hollow log, and I need someone to share it with.”

“Sorry,” said Glenda and the squarrel. “We are looking for another Wendle and a squarrel.”

“Sorry,” hissed the tummycrawler.

 

Glenda gave a great big sigh. It was such a sad sigh that the petals on a briar rose flower turned brown and fell off. “We had better keep on looking then,” she said.

The three of them wended their way through Feggy Wood.

The next animal they met was a budger.

 

They met a budger.

 

“Hello,” it snuffled.

“Hello yourself,” said Glenda, the squarrel, and the tummycrawler.

“I don't suppose you have seen any other budgers around, have you?” asked the budger. “Only I have dug a lovely hole in the ground, and I need someone to share it with.”

“Sorry,” said Glenda, the squarrel, and the tummycrawler. “We are looking for a Wendle, a squarrel, and a tummycrawler.”

“Sorry,” snuffled the budger.

Glenda gave a great big sigh. It was such a sad sigh that a spadger bird flew home to make sure its nest was still there. “We had better keep on looking then,” she said.

The four of them wended their way through Feggy Wood.

The next person they met was a longsleeper.

“Hello,” it squeaked.

“Hello yourself,” said Glenda, the squarrel, the tummycrawler, and the budger.

 

 

The Longsleeper.

“I don't suppose you have seen any other longsleepers around, have you?” asked the longsleeper. “Only I have made a lovely nest from dried grass, and I need someone to share it with.”

“Sorry,” said Glenda, the squarrel, the tummycrawler, and the budger. “We are looking for a squarrel, a tummycrawler, a budger, and a Wendle.”

“Sorry,” said the longsleeper.

Glenda gave a great big sigh. It was such a sad sigh that the grass around her feet turned yellow.

“We had better keep on looking then,” she said.

The five of them wended their way through Feggy Wood until they came to a big clearing. In the clearing was a short-eared hippity, a minitrumpetefant, and a wapsdoodle.

 

 

 

The Short-eared Hippity, Minitrumpetefant, and Wapsdoodle.

 

“Hello,” they called. “We have been looking for friends,” they said.

“So have we,” said Glenda. “I don't know what to do next.”

She gave a great big sigh. It was such a sad sigh that a treebanger bird missed its aim and almost bent its beak.

The wapsdoodle hummed. “When wapsdoodles need to find friends, we send out invitations to a party.”

“That sounds nice,” said Glenda. “We could have one here tonight. How do we do it?”

“Easy,” hummed the wapsdoodle. “We tell everyone we know about it, and they tell everyone they know, and so on.”

Glenda clapped her hands. “That is what we shall do then.” She turned to the others, “Tell everyone to meet here tonight when the sun goes down.”

“Tell everyone to bring party food,” said the short-eared hippity.

“And party drinks,” added the budger.

A burnyflitter came down from the tree and  said, “I will get all my friends to come and dangle their nightlights from the trees.”

“We need music too,” said the squarrel. “I will bring my flootle.”

“We can hum,” said the wapsdoodle.

“We can snurgle a tune,” said the minitrumpetefant.

“And we can drum,” said a passing treebanger bird.

 

 

 

 

 

The Treebanger bird.

“I will go home and make some spondue cakes with freezy glittering,” said Glenda happily.

That evening, as the sun went down, Glenda wended her way through Feggy Wood to the clearing. As promised, the burnyflitters were sat in the trees dangling their nightlights.

 

The burnyflitters dangled their lights.

The wapsdoodles hummed a merry tune, the squarrel tootled on its flootle, the trumpetefants snurgled away, and the treebanger bird drummed on a hollow tree.

The budgers brought barrels of wurrum beer. The tinysqueakers brought plates of callapitter bread. The squarrels made lots of nut roast, and everyone else brought things they had made too.

Soon the clearing was filled with the happy sounds of Feggy Wood animals getting together. Almost everyone was there. Only one person was alone. Not another Wendle was to be seen.

Glenda gave a great big sigh. It was such a sad sigh that the music stopped and the burnyflitters put out their nightlights for a minute.

Glenda stopped serving her spondue cake with the freezy glittering and walked to the middle of the clearing. The music started up again. She danced the sad Wendle dance all on her own. When she had finished, the music stopped again and the clapping began. She looked round—it was not Feggy Wood animals who were clapping. From out of the trees came a whole hide of Wendles.

Brenda the Wendle waved to Glenda. “Hello,” she said. “Sorry we are late.” She pointed to the Wendle next to her. “This is Bren, isn't he handsome?”

Glenda did not know what to say. Then the most handsome Wendle that Glenda had ever seen came and stood next to her.

He smiled shyly. “Hello, my name is Glen. Would you teach me how to do that dance?”

Glenda nodded. She showed him the steps and then took his hand. The music began again and they danced. Two people cannot do a sad dance. When there are two, it becomes a happy dance.

 

 

 

 

Glenda and Glen danced.

 

The ball went on until the moon went down and the sun began to come up. The burnyflitters turned off their nightlights, and lots of happy couples made their way to their holes, nests, or hollow logs.

Hand in hand, Glenda and Glen walked back to her home. Glenda kept a tight hold. She was not going to lose him.

All that was left in the clearing was a female silk spinner. She had danced and spun silk all night with a male silk spinner. Then, as is the way of silk spinners, she had eaten him. As the sun began to shine, she scuttled to a nearby log and spun a nest of silk in which to lay her eggs.