Paddington Helps Out (2 page)

“I’ll put you in charge of all the ropes and things, Paddington,” he called. “That means you can steer.”

“Thank you very much, Mr Brown,” said Paddington, feeling most important. His eyes gleamed with excitement as he climbed into the boat and carefully examined everything with his paws.

“The boatman’s rather busy,” said Mr Brown, as he helped the others in. “So I said we would shove off by ourselves.”

“Paddington!” exclaimed Mrs Brown, as she picked Mrs Bird’s best sun hat off the floor of the boat. “
Do
mind what you’re doing with that fishing net. You’ll have someone’s head off.”

“I’m sorry, Mrs Bird,” said Paddington. “I was only testing it.”

“All right,” said Mr Brown, as he settled himself on his seat and took a firm grip on the oars. “Here we go. Stand by at the helm, Paddington.”

“Do what, Mr Brown?” cried Paddington.

“Pull on the ropes,” shouted Mr Brown. “Come on – left paw down.”

“Oh dear,” said Mrs Bird nervously, as she clutched the side of the boat with one hand and gripped her sunshade with the other. Out of the corner of her eye she could already see a number of people staring in their direction.

In the back of the boat Paddington pulled hard on the two ropes tied to the rudder. He wasn’t quite sure whether Mr Brown had meant
his,
Mr Brown’s, left, or his own left, so he pulled both just to make certain. Everyone waited expectantly while Mr Brown strained on the oars.

“I should have thought, Henry,” said Mrs Brown, after a few moments had gone by, “it would have been much easier if you’d untied the boat from the landing stage first.”

“What!” exclaimed Mr Brown. He mopped his brow and looked crossly over his shoulder. “Hasn’t anyone done that yet?”

“I’ll do it, Mr Brown,” called Paddington importantly, as he clambered along the side of the boat. “I’m in charge of ropes.”

The Browns waited patiently while Paddington examined the rope. He wasn’t
very good at knots because they were rather difficult with paws, but eventually he announced that all was ready.

“Right!” shouted Mr Brown, as he braced himself once more. “Here we go. Cast off, Paddington. Hold on, everyone!”

“Do what, Mr Brown?” cried Paddington, above the splashing of the water. Having a picnic on the river was much more complicated than he had expected. There were so many ropes to pull he was getting a bit confused. First of all Mr Brown told him to untie the rope. Now he had shouted to everyone to hold on.

Paddington closed his eyes and held on to the rope with both paws as tightly as he could.

He wasn’t quite sure what happened next. One moment he was standing on the boat -the next moment it wasn’t there any more.

“Henry!” shouted Mrs Brown, as there was a loud splash. “For goodness’ sake! Paddington’s fallen in the water!”

“Bear overboard!” cried Jonathan, as the boat shot away from the bank.

“Hold on, Paddington!” called Judy. We’re coming.

“But I
did
hold on,” cried Paddington, as
he came up spluttering for air. “That’s how I fell in.”

Mrs Brown lunged into the water with her sunshade. “Do hurry, Henry,” she cried.

“I’m sure Paddington can’t swim,” said Judy.

“What did you say?” called Paddington.

“She said ‘you can’t swim’,” yelled Mr Brown.

When he heard what Mr Brown said Paddington began waving his paws wildly in the air and there was a gurgle as he promptly sank.

“There now, Henry,” exclaimed Mrs Brown. “Now look what you’ve done. He was all right until you spoke.”

“I like that!” said Mr Brown, giving his wife an expressive look.

“It’s all right,” shouted Jonathan. “Someone’s thrown him a lifebelt!”

By the time the Browns reached the landing stage Paddington had already been rescued and he was lying on his back surrounded by a large crowd. Everyone was staring down at him making suggestions while the man in charge of the boats pulled his paws back and forth, giving him artificial respiration.

“Thank goodness he’s safe,” exclaimed Mrs Brown thankfully.

“Don’t see why ’e shouldn’t be,” said the man. “If ’e’d layed ’isself down it’d only ’ve come up to ’is whiskers. The water’s only about nine inches deep just ’ere. Probably a lot less now – judging by the amount ’e’s
swallowed. Kept ’is mouth open when ’e went under, I dare say.”

Judy bent down and looked at Paddington. “I think he’s trying to say something,” she said.

“Grrr,” said Paddington as he sat up.

“Now just you lay still for a moment, young feller-me-bear,” said the boatman, pushing Paddington back down again.

“Grrr,” said Paddington. “ITHINKI’VELOSTMYHAT.”

“ITHINKI’VELOSTMYHAT,” repeated the man, looking at Paddington with renewed interest. “Are you one of them foreign bears? We get a rare lot of overseas visitors at this time of year,” he said, turning to the Browns.

“I
come
from Peru,” spluttered Paddington, as he got his breath back. “But I
live
at number thirty-two Windsor Gardens in London, and I think I’ve lost my hat.”

“Oh dear,” said Mrs Brown, clutching her husband’s arm. “Did you hear that, Henry? Paddington’s lost his hat!”

The Brown family stared at each other in dismay. They often grumbled about Paddington’s hat – usually when he wasn’t listening – because it was so old. People had a habit of pointing at it when they were out and
it made them feel embarrassed. But all the same, they couldn’t even begin to picture Paddington without it.

“I had it on when I fell in the water,” cried Paddington, feeling on top of his head. “And now it isn’t there any more.”

“Gosh,” said Jonathan. “It had so many holes in it too! Perhaps it’s sunk.”

“Sunk!” cried Paddington in dismay. He ran to the edge of the landing stage and peered at the muddy water. “But it can’t have
sunk!
”

“He’s always worn it,” explained Mrs Brown to the boatman. “Ever since we’ve known him. It was given to him by his uncle in Peru.”

“
Darkest
Peru,” said Paddington.

“Darkest Peru,” repeated the boatman, looking most impressed. He turned to Paddington and touched his forelock. “You’ll be wanting the Thames Conservancy, sir.”

“No, I don’t,” said Paddington firmly. “I want my hat.”

“He means they look after the river, dear,” explained Mrs Brown. “They may have found it for you.”

“It’s the current, sir,” explained the boatman. “Once you get away from the bank
it’s very strong and it may have got swep’ over the weir.” He pointed along the river towards a row of buildings in the distance.

“Got swep’ over the weir?” repeated Paddington slowly.

The boatman nodded. “If it ain’t already been sucked into a whirlpool.”

Paddington gave the man a hard stare. “My hat!” he exclaimed, hardly able to believe his ears. “Got sucked into a whirlpool?”

“Come along,” said Mr Brown hastily. “If we hurry we may be just in time to see it go over.”

Closely followed by Mr and Mrs Brown, Mrs Bird, Jonathan and Judy, the boatman and a crowd of interested sightseers, Paddington hurried along the towpath with a grim expression on his face, leaving a trail of water behind him.

By the time they reached the weir the news had already spread and several men in peaked caps were peering anxiously into the water.

“I hear you’ve lost a very valuable Persian cat,” said the lock-keeper to Mr Brown.

“Not a
cat
,” said Mr Brown. “A
hat.
And it’s from Peru.”

“It belongs to this young bear gentleman, Fred,” explained the boatman as he joined them. “It’s a family heirloom.”

“A family heirloom?” repeated the lock-keeper, scratching his head as he looked at Paddington. “I’ve never heard of a hat being a family heirloom before. Especially a bear’s heirloom.”

“Mine is,” said Paddington firmly. “It’s a very rare sort of hat and it’s got a marmalade sandwich inside. I put it in there in case of an
emergency.”

“A marmalade sandwich?” said the lock-keeper, looking more and more surprised. “Wait a minute – it wouldn’t be that thing we fished out just now would it? All sort of shapeless… like a… like a…” He tried hard to think of words to describe it.

“That
sounds
like it,” said Mrs Bird.

“Herbert!” called the man to a boy who was standing nearby watching the proceedings with an open mouth. “See if we’ve still got that wassname in the shed.

“It might well be an heirloom,” he continued, turning to the Browns. “It looks as if it’s been handed down a lot.”

Everyone waited anxiously while Herbert disappeared into a small hut by the side of the lock. He returned after a few moments carrying a bucket.

“We put it in here,” said the lock-keeper apologetically, “because we’d never seen anything like it before. We were going to send it to the museum.”

Paddington peered into the bucket. “That’s not a wassname,” he exclaimed thankfully. “That’s my hat.”

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank goodness,” said Mrs Bird, echoing all
their thoughts.

“There’s a fish inside it as well,” said the lock-keeper.

“What!” exclaimed Paddington. “A fish? Inside my hat?”

“That’s right,” said the man. “It must have been after your marmalade sandwich. Probably got in through one of the holes.”

“Crikey,” exclaimed Jonathan admiringly, as the Browns gathered round the bucket. “So there is!”

“That means Paddington’s won the prize for catching the first fish,” said Judy. “Congratulations!”

“Well, if it’s some kind of competition,” said the lock-keeper, “I’d better get you a jam-jar to put it in, sir.

“I suppose,” he said, looking rather doubtfully at the hat, “you’ll be wanting to wear it again?”

As Paddington gave him a hard stare he backed away and hurried off in search of a jam-jar. “There you are,” he said when he returned. “With the compliments of the Thames Conservancy.”

“Thank you very much,” said Paddington gratefully, offering the man his paw.

“Not at all,” said the man, as he stood on
the side of the lock to wave them goodbye. “It’s a pleasure. After all, it’s not every day we have the opportunity of saving a bear’s heirloom from going over the weir. I shall remember today for a long time to come.”