Glenda the Wendle Chapter 4
By Eric Marsh
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Chapter 4.
Glenda the Wendle and Big Bad Bob the Fenwangler
After lunch, Glenda looked out from her home across Feggy Wood. It was one of those clear, bright days with a lovely blue sky and just the right amount of sun. In the distance, she could see a very tall tree. She turned to her friend, Glen the Wendle, and said, “I have never been to that tree. It looks to be right in the middle of Feggy Wood. I think I will go for a walk and see if I can find it.”
“Be careful then,” said Glen. “The Dampling Fen is somewhere in the middle of Feggy Wood, and I have heard it is a very dangerous place.”
“I will be careful,” said Glenda.
She set off and wended her way through Feggy Wood. She met lots of different creatures and said, “Good afternoon” to them, but did not stop to chat. Soon, she reached a path that was new to her. There was a lovely stream next to it. A fish chaser popped its head out of the water. “Good afternoon,” it said, shaking water drops off its whiskers.
A fish chaser.
“Good afternoon,” said Glenda. “Do you know where this path leads?”
“Oh, yes,” said the Fish Chaser. “It leads to the Dampling Fen. But I would not go there if I were you.”
“Why not?” asked Glenda.
The Fish Chaser shuddered. “It is the home of Big Bad Bob the Fenwangler. I have heard he is huge—twice as tall as you and twice as wide. I would not like to meet him.”
“I will be very careful then,” said Glenda.
She carried on along the path until she met a Bushy-Tailed Rufus. It sat down on the path and yawned. “Good afternoon.”
The Bushy-Tailed Rufus.
“Good afternoon,” said Glenda. “Do you know how far it is to the Dampling Fen?”
“Not far along the path,” replied the Rufus. “But I would not go there if I were you.”
“Why not?” asked Glenda.
“It is where Big Bad Bob the Fenwangler lives, and I have heard he is very, very strong. He could pick you up and throw you all the way out of Feggy Wood.”
“I will be very careful then,” said Glenda.
She carried on down the path until she met a Long-Tailed Grubbler. “Good afternoon,” it said, lifting its muddy nose out of the soil on the side of the path.
The Long-Tailed Grubbler.
“Good afternoon,” said Glenda. “Is it far to the Dampling Fen?”
“Not far at all,” said the Grubbler. “But I would not go there if I were you.”
“Why not?” asked Glenda.
“It is the home of Big Bad Bob the Fenwangler, and I have heard he is very, very bad. They say he pushes people onto the soft parts of the Fen and then sings to them in a very loud voice until they sink out of sight.”
“I will be very careful then,” said Glenda.
She carried on walking, and before long, she heard a rather sad song. Sitting on a log by the side of the path was a strange-looking creature. Its head resembled a ball made of twigs. Its body looked like a thin branch, with even thinner twig-like arms and legs. However, it had huge, flat feet. It was playing a musical instrument and singing a mournful tune.
The Fenwangler
“Good afternoon,” said Glenda.
The creature stopped playing and replied, “Good afternoon to you.”
“Why are you so sad on such a lovely day?” asked Glenda.
The creature sighed. “A few weeks ago, all the creatures in Feggy Wood went to a ball, except me.”
“That was my ball,” said Glenda. “Why didn’t you go?”
“I wasn’t invited,” said the creature. “For some reason, people don’t want to talk to me. And then last week, the Grizzlers had an all-night rave, and I wasn’t invited to that either.”
“I’m very sorry,” said Glenda. “You would have been very welcome at my ball. You could have played your musical instrument.”
“This thing?” said the creature, holding it up. “I made it myself,” he said proudly. “It’s made from yew wood with strings from the Kaylee bush.”
“Perhaps you weren’t invited because no one knows your name,” said Glenda. “I’m Glenda the Wendle.”
“How do you do,” replied the creature. “I’m Bob the Fenwangler.”
“Oh!” said Glenda. “I was told you were twice as big as me and twice as wide.”
Bob looked at Glenda. “I don’t think I’m even half as big as you,” he said.
“I was trying to find the very tall tree in the middle of Feggy Wood,” said Glenda.
Bob nodded. “It is right next to my home. Would you like to visit? I don't get any visitors these days,” he added sadly.
Glenda hesitated. “I was told you push people into the sinking parts of the Dampling Fen and watch them sink.”
“What a horrible thing to say about me,” said Bob. “I try to stop people from walking on the soft bits, but some of them are so silly they still do it. I can walk on the sinking parts because of my big, flat feet, but I'm not strong enough to pull people out. I sing a sad song when they disappear.”
“How do you stop people?” asked Glenda.
“I shout at them. I have a very, very loud voice,” said Bob proudly. Then, in a much sadder tone, he added, “Perhaps I’ve frightened everyone away. No one has come to the Fen for a very long time.”
Glenda said, “Well, I will visit now.”
“Good,” said Bob. “I have made some really nice paths to my house.”
He led Glenda along a wide path, pointing out the flowers that grew on the side and the soft green sinking parts. Soon, they reached the middle of the Fen. It was a large pool of water.
Black Pool.
“I call it Black Lake,” said Bob.
The water in the lake really did look black.
“It’s a bit small to be a lake,” smiled Glenda. “A better name would be Black Pool.”
“Oooh, I like that,” agreed Bob.
At the edge of the pool was the tall tree.
“It is hollow,” said Bob. “I have made steps inside so you can climb to the top and look down on Feggy Wood and Black Pool. I call it my Tower Tree.”
Glenda followed Bob up the steps inside the Tower Tree to the very top. As Bob had said, she could see the whole of Feggy Wood and Black Pool below her.
When they climbed back down, Glenda was rather hot and out of breath.
“Would you like a drink?” asked Bob.
“Yes, please,” said Glenda.
He led her to his home. Outside, there was a bench and a table. Glenda sat down. It didn’t take Bob long to boil some water and bring out a cup of steaming liquid. Glenda sipped it.
“This is nice,” she said. “What is it?”
“I make it from the leaves of the early grey leaf bush,” said Bob. “I baked a Fizzle Cake this afternoon. Would you like a piece?”
The cake was lovely.
“This is a wonderful place,” said Glenda.
Bob smiled. “I made the bench and the table myself,” he said. “I like to sit here and watch the Coloured Jumpers and the Warty Backs. And if you sit very still, the Jewel Wings will fly around your head.”
The Warty Back and the Jewel Wing
He smiled shyly. “I’ve made some other things too. Would you like to see them?”
“Yes, please,” said Glenda.
Bob led her to a small clearing. There, he had crafted some Back-and-Forths, a Go-Rounder, and an Upsydaisy. Glenda tried them all. When she had finished going backwards and forwards, round and round, and up and down, she was ready for another cup of early grey leaf drink. Glenda was beginning to get an idea.
“There’s something else I hope you’ll like,” said Bob. “Deep in the Fen, where only a Fenwangler can go, there are bushes that grow these. I call them Sweet Sticks.” He handed Glenda a piece of pink wood. “Go on,” he said. “Lick it.”
Carefully, Glenda did as she was told. The pink wood tasted minty and sweet.
“Oh!” she cried. “That is wonderful. I know exactly how you can get lots of visitors.”
“That would be lovely,” said Bob. “But how?”
Glenda sounded excited. “You could offer people afternoon tea. I’m sure they would love to drink the early grey leaf drink and eat Fizzle Cake.”
“I make really nice Scream Buns too,” said Bob.
“People could come, climb the Tower Tree, look at Black Pool, and try your Sweet Sticks.”
“But how would they get here?” asked Bob.
“You could put signs on the path, saying, ‘This way to Black Pool and the Tower Tree,’” said Glenda.
Bob nodded. “I have another idea. I want to build a walkway out into the pool so I can sit on the end and peer down into the water.”
“That sounds good,” said Glenda. “And you could sit there and play your yewkaylee instrument. I’m sure people would love to listen to you sing.”
“But how would people get to know about it?” asked Bob.
“I’ll tell everyone I meet about my wonderful time at Black Pool,” said Glenda.
The Tittle-tattle Bird.
A tittle-tattle bird flew down onto the table and pecked at the crumbs from the Fizzle Cake. Rudely, it spoke with its beak full. “And if you keep leaving crumbs like this for us, every tell-tale bird in Feggy Wood will spread the news as well.”
Bob clapped his hands. “I’ll do it! People can come, climb the Tower Tree, peer into Black Pool, drink early grey leaf drink, and eat Fizzle Cake.”
“And nice Scream Buns,” added Glenda happily.
“And nice Scream Buns,” agreed Bob. “They can also have a go on the Back-and-Forths, the Go-Rounder, and the Upsydaisy, and take home a piece of Sweet Stick. It would be a lovely way to spend the day.”
“It would indeed,” said Glenda. “And now I must be getting home myself.”
She waved to Bob and wended her way through Feggy Wood to her own home.
She told everyone she met about her trip to Black Pool. Glen was very pleased that she had such a pleasant afternoon.
“It just shows you should not take what people say about someone as being true,” he said wisely.
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