Aunt Effie and Mrs Grizzle Read online

  Acknowledgment

  I am grateful for the assistance of Creative New Zealand – the Arts Council of New Zealand. Their grant in 2002 helped me complete work on this book as well as its predecessor, Aunt Effie and the Island that Sank (2004).

  Contents

  Title Page

  Acknowledgment

  Dedication

  Bit One

  This Bit Tells You About the Main Characters in the Story.

  Bit Two

  This Bit Tells You About What Happened at the End of the Last Book, and What Aunt Effie Promised.

  Chapter I

  Where We Hid the Ninety-Nine Chests of Treasure and Gold Dollars, Why We Grinned Knowingly, and How We Made Aunt Effie Say Goodnight Properly.

  Chapter II

  Doing the Bottling, A Little Look at Our Treasure, Why the Bulls Chased Alwyn up the Walnut Tree, and Why We Tore Upstairs.

  Chapter III

  Dying of a Runny Nose, What We Could See Under Aunt Effie’s Enormous Bed, Napoleon’s Head, and Why the Coffin Lid Wouldn’t Close.

  Chapter IV

  The Treaty of Waharoa, How Aunt Effie Beat the Springboks With Her Haka, Why the Dental Nurse Wears a Red Cardie, and You’re Going to School on Monday and That’s That.

  Chapter V

  Why We Licked Dust off the Floor, Caught by Masked Body Snatchers, Shrivelled Brains and Shrunken Heads, and Why Mr Jones Said Aunt Effie’s Great-Nephews and Nieces Were a Delight to Teach.

  Chapter VI

  Saying Pies in Proper Waharoa English; the Bogeyman, the Boggle, and the Boggart; What the Williewaw Did; and Why Aunt Effie Said Not to Let the Eels Drag Us Into the Ditch.

  Chapter VII

  Silver-Bellies, Yellow-Bellies, and “Tarnation!”; Why We All Felt Maori for Waharoa Day; the Pong Under the Woolshed; What the Moko Man Does; and a Groan From Jazz.

  Chapter VIII

  A Bunch of Cannibals, the Gigantic China Chamber Pot, Why the Painted Ladies Danced in the Nuddy, a Paddockful of Sweet Corn, and Lilliput and Brobdingnag.

  Chapter IX

  What Happened When We Chewed the Corn Seed; Why the Armoured Body Snatcher Sang, “Ladybird, Ladybird, Fly Away Home”; and What a Lady Does Not Show in Public.

  Chapter X

  Licking the Spoon and the Bowl, What Our Lovely Tomato Sandwiches Tasted Like, Why Aunt Effie Met Us With the Gig Umbrella, and Why Our Fingertips Went All Wrinkly.

  Chapter XI

  How We All Listened to The Phantom Drummer and Wet Our Beds, Aunt Effie Begins the Story of Mrs Grizzle, Why a Caul is a Sign of Good Luck, and How Aunt Effie Was Christened Brunnhilde.

  Chapter XII

  Global Warming and the Great Waharoa Swamp, Crocodiles and Monster Pukekos, the Prime Minister and the School Inspector, and Why Aunt Effie Kept Her Eyes Skinned.

  Chapter XIII

  Why Aunt Effie Shod the Horses Herself, the School Inspector, What My Father Said About Red-Haired Double-Jointed Women, and How the Bugaboo Ate One of the Little Ones.

  Chapter XIV

  Why Peter Got Up and Made Cocoa, Twenty-Six Short Fat White European Slaves Bearing Breakfast on Their Heads, and Why My Father Warned Me Against Red-Haired Double-Jointed Women.

  Chapter XV

  Why My Mother Kept Her Eyes Wide Open, How a Well-Run Farm Works, Who Aunt Effie Found in Her Mother’s Bed, and Why We Hung Over the Stern of Our Scow.

  Chapter XVI

  How Jared Blew Up, Why Aunt Effie Fired Her Cannon, How My Little Mother Grew Down as I Grew Up, and Why the School Inspector Lassoed Euphemia and Shouted, “Gotcha!”

  Chapter XVII

  Locked in the Dark Spidery Dunny, the Indian Deathlock and the Octopus Clamp, Kraw-Poocka-Kacko, the Anvil and the Cannon, Whack-a Pukeko, and a Tiny Forlorn Cry.

  Chapter XVIII

  Why Euphemia Stood On Tiptoe, Clutched by the Monster’s Talons, Why the Lewd Boys Laughed, Aunt Effie’s Newest Weapon of Mass Destruction, and Why the Wicked Pook Jeered.

  Chapter XIX

  Flaming Arrows, Gunpowder, and Ingratitude; Staying a Baby for Ever With Elastic in the Legs of Her Bloomers; Scalped by Redskins; and Why Witches Are Good at Multi-Tasking.

  Chapter XX

  The Advantage of Having So Many Nephews and Nieces, Putting Paper on the Dunny Seat, What the Monster Pukekos Called Mrs Grizzle, and the Sort of Language That Brutes Understand.

  Chapter XXI

  Why Australians Look Funny, Why Learning To Read is Like Seeing an Elephant Riding a Bicycle, and What Happened to the Naughty Primer Kids at Matamata Primary School.

  Chapter XXII

  What DNA, AI, and GM Really Mean, the Pookackodiles’ Achilles’ Heel, and Why Bonny Swept Up the Teeth.

  Chapter XXIII

  Cream Collectors and Contumacious Reptiles, What Mrs Grizzle Used to Make a False Red Nose, and Why the Cannibal Krockapook Tasted of Ballpoint Pens and Chalk.

  Chapter XXIV

  Why the Little Ones and the Six Enormous Pig Dogs Wept and Rocked and Held Each Other; Why I Felt Like Giving My Dear Little Mother a Good Smack; and What Brought the Earthquake.

  Chapter XXV

  What Happened When Aunt Effie Cleaned the Stove, Why She Sounded Like a Kettledrum, Why Her Pinny Was Wet Through, and Why We Hurried to Get Everything Done Before She Came Home.

  Chapter XXVI

  Why We All Nodded and Whacked Our Tails On the Floor, What We Bought for Lunch, Why We Were All Crook, and Why the Little Ones Were Revolting.

  Chapter XXVII

  Why We Started Eating Fish and Chips for Lunch, Teaching Your Grandmother to Suck Eggs, and Why Alwyn Said, “Kst! Kst! Kst!”

  Glossary

  A Bit About Me and My Wise Old Dog

  Other Aunt Effie titles by Jack Lasenby

  Copyright

  To Cathie and Lizzi

  Bit One

  This Bit Tells You About the

  Main Characters in the Story.

  Aunt Effie’s got a secret name, The Name We Dare Not Say. She isn’t sure whether she’s our great-aunt, our great-uncle, or our great-grandmother. She isn’t sure whether we’re Hindu, Chinese, English, Maori, Eskimo, or Red Indian. “You’re a bunch of mongrels,” she tells us, and we love her.

  At one time or another, Aunt Effie’s been married to someone from just about every country in the world. She mightn’t be sure what we are, which she is, and which of us is which, but Aunt Effie is all we have.

  Captain Flash of the Royal Navy, Chief Rangi, and the Reverend Samuel Missionary are three of Aunt Effie’s old husbands. They follow Aunt Effie around, trying to call her The Name We Dare Not Say, and crying that they love her.

  Captain Flash has a pointed head because of an accident with a speaking trumpet. Chief Rangi is tattooed – all over. And the Reverend Samuel wears a white collar backwards.

  Caligula, Nero, Brutus, Kaiser, Genghis, and Boris are Aunt Effie’s six enormous pig dogs. She calls them all by all their names because it’s easier than remembering which is which.

  Us: Daisy, Mabel, Johnny, Flossie, Lynda, Stan, Howard, Marge, Stuart, Peter, Marie, Colleen, Alwyn, Bryce, Jack, Ann, Jazz, Beck, Jane, Isaac, David, Victor, Casey, Lizzie, Jared, and Jessie: Aunt Effie calls all of us by all our names because she says she can’t be bothered remembering which of us is which – like the dogs.

  The Bugaboo lives under Aunt Effie’s enormous bed and tries to catch us round the ankles with his bony fingers when we’re jumping off.

  Bit Two

  This Bit Tells You About What Happened at the End of the Last Book, and What Aunt Effie Promised.

  In the book before this one – Aunt Effie and the Island That Sank – we saved the Prime Minister from going to pri
son for gambling away all the country’s money at the Auckland Casino. In front of everyone in Queen Street, the Prime Minister renamed Rangitoto Island after Aunt Effie and said we were her very dearest friends.

  “If ever you want anything, just ask.” She smiled with all her terrible teeth, waved her handbag at us, jumped into her Zeppelin, and flew back to Wellington to give her husband a hiding for letting her gamble.

  We caught the Rotorua Express and went home to Aunt Effie’s farm near Hopuruahine. In ninety chests we had Wicked Nancy’s treasure that we brought up after Rangitoto Island sank under its enormous weight. In another nine chests we had the six billion gold dollars that Aunt Effie won off the Auckland Casino, playing double or quits with the manager. What’s more, we’d played the wag from school for over a year. We felt pretty pleased with ourselves.

  “All we want now,” said Peter, whom we trusted, “is to get Aunt Effie to tell us the story of Mrs Grizzle.”

  Marie nodded. “She’s been promising to tell it to us for ages.”

  “I don’t like the sound of Mrs Grizzle,” Daisy said disapprovingly.

  “Who’s Mrs Grizzle?” asked the little ones, Lizzie, Jessie, Casey, and Jared.

  “You’ll be told when you’ve reached a suitable age,” said Daisy, our oldest cousin, who was very proper.

  “It’s not fair!” the little ones wept together. “Nobody tells us anything. Just because we’re the youngest.”

  “The rest of us don’t know anything about Mrs Grizzle either,” Peter said in his kind way, “but we’re going to make Aunt Effie tell us her story.” The Rotorua Express blew its whistle and slowed. “Look,” said Peter, “the Hopuruahine station. We’re almost home!”

  Chapter One

  Where We Hid the Ninety-Nine Chests of Treasure and Gold Dollars, Why We Grinned Knowingly, and How We Made Aunt Effie Say Goodnight Properly.

  Back home at the farm, we counted as Caligula, Nero, Brutus, Kaiser, Genghis, and Boris carried the ninety-nine heavy chests of treasure and gold dollars upstairs and hid them under Aunt Effie’s enormous bed. While the dogs had a stretch and a blow, we knelt and counted the chests again.

  “Ninety-six!” said Aunt Effie. “Ninety-seven!” said Peter. “Ninety-eight!” said Marie. “Ninety-nine!” said the little ones, Casey, Lizzie, Jared, and Jessie, even though they were too young to know how to count. “Ninety-nine!” said the rest of us. It felt funny, being so rich.

  “We want to play with some diamonds,” whined Jessie. And the rest of the little ones whined, “Why can’t we play with some diamonds?”

  “Not now,” Aunt Effie told them. “It’s time we had our tea.”

  The little ones held their noses and whined, “Aw!” They know that Aunt Effie can’t stand the sound.

  “Perhaps you can play with them for a little while before you go to bed,” she said.

  “We want to play with them now,” Jessie whined even louder.

  Aunt Effie stuck her fingers in her ears, and tried to smile, but the little ones whined even louder. “I’ll tell you what,” Aunt Effie said.

  “What?” we all asked.

  “What say we have our tea and, afterwards, I’ll tell you the story of Mrs Grizzle?”

  We turned and stared at Peter, waiting for him to reply. “That would be nice,” he said in his politest voice. “Thank you, Aunt Effie.”

  “Hooray!” The rest of us held our breath and ran downstairs, tripping and elbow-jolting each other. We had Wicked Nancy’s treasure; we had six billion gold dollars; we’d played the wag from school for over a year – and thought we’d got away with it; and at last, Aunt Effie was going to tell us the story of Mrs Grizzle!

  We looked around and grinned knowingly at each other. Perhaps we felt just a bit smug, the way our oldest cousin, Daisy, feels most of the time.

  “Over a year, I reckon that must be a record!” Jazz said, and the rest of us yelled, “I reckon!”

  Only Daisy shook her head and said, “‘Pride goeth before destruction and an haughty spirit before a fall.’ Proverbs, Chapter 16, Verse 18.”

  “Why do you always have to spoil things?” Casey asked, but Daisy just shook her head as if she knew something and repeated, “‘Pride goeth before destruction.’”

  “Destruction before goeth pride,” said Alwyn who always has to spoil things for Daisy.

  We had our tea, did the dishes, put them away, turned down our blankets and, suddenly, we were all so tired, we forgot Aunt Effie had promised to tell us the story of Mrs Grizzle. We yawned and got into our pyjamas, helped the little ones into theirs, and climbed up the ladders into our bunks that were built into the walls either side of the enormous fireplace at the other end of Aunt Effie’s kitchen.

  Through heavy eyes, we watched Aunt Effie light her candle and count us to make sure we were all there. “… twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six!” she said. “Good night.”

  “You’ve got to kiss us and say goodnight properly,” we held our noses and whined. “Or we won’t go to sleep.”

  “Goodnight Daisy-Mabel-Johnny-Flossie-Lynda-Stan-Howard-Marge-Stuart-Peter-Marie-Colleen-Alwyn-Bryce-Jack-Ann-Jazz-Beck-Jane-Isaac-David-Victor-Casey-Lizzie-Jared-Jess!”

  “And the dogs,” we whined. “You’ve got to kiss them and say goodnight properly.”

  “Goodnight, Caligula-Nero-Brutus-Kaiser-Genghis-Boris!”

  “Goodnight, Aunt Effie!” The six enormous pig dogs growled and whacked their powerful tails on the floor.

  “You’ve forgotten to say, ‘Goodnight, sleep tight!’” whined the little ones.

  Aunt Effie sighed, but she chanted:

  “Goodnight,

  Sleep tight.

  Hope the fleas

  Don’t bite!”

  “Hope the fleas don’t bite!” we said back to Aunt Effie as she took the candle and galloped up the stairs to her bedroom. Halfway up, she hooted like a morepork, and flapped her arms to make its huge shadow float across the roof and dive towards us. We screamed. She gave one last hoot, we all shrieked, and she disappeared with the candle, the light, and the morepork’s shadow.

  “I hope Aunt Effie isn’t going to play with our treasure before she goes to bed,” Jessie murmured.

  “We’ll whine till she tells us the story of Mrs Grizzle tomorrow night,” Lizzie whispered and gave a loud yawn.

  “Playing the wag for over a year,” Jazz said again. “It must be a record!” And we were all asleep. Or we would have been, but for Daisy singing “Pride goeth before destruction and an haughty spirit before a fall” to the tune of “Onward Christian Soldiers”.

  “If I have to come downstairs to stop that singing, you’ll know about it, the lot of you!” the morepork upstairs roared. Daisy sang “Amen” in a whisper, and we were all asleep, properly this time.

  Chapter Two

  Doing the Bottling, A Little Look at Our Treasure, Why the Bulls Chased Alwyn up the Walnut Tree, and Why We Tore Upstairs.

  “There’s all the bottling to do,” said Aunt Effie at breakfast next morning. “The orchard’s full of fruit. And there’s the jam to make. And the cider. All those ripe apples and pears and raspberries and gooseberries and currants and blackberries and strawberries aren’t going to pick themselves.”

  “We want a little look at our treasure,” said Lizzie.

  “We want to count our six billion gold dollars,” said Jessie.

  “Yes, why can’t we have a look at our treasure and count our six billion dollars?” we all asked.

  “We thought you were going to tell us the story of Mrs Grizzle,” the little ones whined together.

  “That was last night, but you were all too tired,” said Aunt Effie. “You haven’t even had a single look at your books and toys since you came home; you haven’t had a look around the farm; you haven’t thought to say hello to any of the animals. And don’t forget: I want all that fruit picked.”

  “We forgot!” We tore around looking at our old books and toys. We tore up the orch
ard and picked the fruit and berries and dumped them in the kitchen for Aunt Effie to bottle. We tore around the farm, talking to the hedges and trees and gates and the creek whom we hadn’t seen for ages.

  We let the bantams perch on our heads and collected their eggs, which weren’t much bigger than marbles. We quacked at the ducks, who quacked back. We tore past the geese because we were scared of them, but Alwyn stopped to honk at the big gander who hissed and bit him fair on the bum.

  “It serves you right,” Daisy told Alwyn who rubbed his behind and said, “Right you serves it,” as the gander bit hers.

  While we scratched the pigs’ backs, we told them how long we’d played the wag from school. We said hello to the donkeys, the cows, the sheep, and the horses, and told them about playing the wag. Alwyn pulled faces at the bulls and bellowed at them till they wrecked their gate and chased him up the walnut tree. We left him there, tore back into the orchard, and gutsed ourselves on the ripest apples and pears we hadn’t picked, and hogged the last of the strawberries – then remembered we hadn’t left any for Aunt Effie.

  We rescued Alwyn from the bulls and tore inside. “Aunt Effie! Do you want us to pick the quinces?” We pulled our lips back and rolled our eyes at each other. Quinces make corker jam but, if you eat them raw, your teeth feel as if they’ve grown fur, like the Parrish’s Chemical Food that Aunt Effie makes us drink when we’re sick.

  “Aunt Effie?” we yelled.

  The kitchen was warm from the stove, the air fragrant with that smell you only get at the end of summer, when somebody’s been doing the bottling. We sniffed and stared and licked our lips.

  Red, gold, blue, yellow, purple, orange, and white: rows and rows of Agee jars: peaches, plums, apricots, pears, apples, nectarines swimming in thick sweet syrup; rows and rows of jars of quince, plum, raspberry, gooseberry, strawberry, black and red currant jam; blackberry, japonica, quince, and crab apple jelly dripping through the straining cloths, transparent red, black, yellow, green, pink, and apricot; jars and jars of green tomato chutney, plum and beetroot chutney. But no Aunt Effie.