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How The Whale Got His Throat
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$\"Whale\"$ This is one of the wonderful Just So Stories by Rudyard Kipling. It explains why a huge mammal – the whale – can only eat the smallest things. The story is full of Kipling’s love of words and sounds, and it’s read with gusto by Richard. In case you missed last week’s story, we had better mention that Natasha is away.

If you enjoy this story, you might also like The Elephant’s Child, also from the Just So Stories.

This story is kindly sponsored by Sweetpea3 who are also giving away prizes for our writing competition.

Fancy yourself as an author? Here?s your chance to win a Sweetpea3 player and HEAR your story on Storynory. And even if you don?t win, we plan to publish the texts of all entries that we deem fit to publish. Please read the rules here.

Read by Richard Scott. Duration 12.55

ON the sea, once upon a time, O my Best Beloved, there was a Whale, and he ate fishes. He ate the starfish and the garfish, and the crab and the dab, and the plaice and the dace, and the skate and his mate, and the mackereel and the pickereel, and the really truly twirly-whirly eel. All the fishes he could find in all the sea he ate with his mouth–so! Till at last there was only one small fish left in all the sea, and he was a small ‘Stute Fish, and he swam a little behind the Whale’s right ear, so as to be out of harm’s way. Then the Whale stood up on his tail and said, ‘I’m hungry.’ And the small ‘Stute Fish said in a small ’stute voice, ‘Noble and generous Cetacean, have you ever tasted Man?’

‘No,’ said the Whale. ‘What is it like?’

‘Nice,’ said the small ‘Stute Fish. ‘Nice but nubbly.’

‘Then fetch me some,’ said the Whale, and he made the sea froth up with his tail.

‘One at a time is enough,’ said the ‘Stute Fish. ‘If you swim to latitude Fifty North, longitude Forty West (that is magic), you will find, sittingon a raft, in the middle of the sea, with nothing on but a pair of blue canvas breeches, a pair of suspenders (you must not forget the suspenders, Best Beloved), and a jack-knife, one ship-wrecked Mariner, who, it is only fair to tell you, is a man of infinite-resource-and-sagacity.’

So the Whale swam and swam to latitude Fifty North, longitude Forty West, as fast as he could swim, and on a raft, in the middle of the sea, with nothing to wear except a pair of blue canvas breeches, a pair of suspenders (you must particularly remember the suspenders, Best Beloved), and a jack-knife, he found one single, solitary shipwrecked Mariner, trailing his toes in the water. (He had his mummy’s leave to paddle, or else he would never have done it, because he was a man of infinite-resource-and-sagacity.)
Then the Whale opened his mouth back and back and back till it nearly touched his tail, and he swallowed the shipwrecked Mariner, and the raft he was sitting on, and his blue canvas breeches, and the suspenders (which you must not forget), and the jack-knife–He swallowed them all down into his warm, dark, inside cup-boards, and then he smacked his lips–so, and turned round three times on his tail.

[Imagine a picture of the Whale swallowing the Mariner with his infinite-resource-and-sagacity, and the raft and the jack-knife and his suspenders, which you must not forget. The buttony-things are the Mariner\'s suspenders, and you can see the knife close by them. He is sitting on the raft, but it has tilted up sideways, so you don\'t see much of it. The whity thing by the Mariner\'s left hand is a piece of wood that he was trying to row the raft with when the Whale came along. The piece of wood is called the jaws-of-a-gaff. The Mariner left it outside when he went in. The Whale\'s name was Smiler, and the Mariner was called Mr. Henry Albert Bivvens, A.B. The little \'Stute Fish is hiding under the Whale\'s tummy, or else I would have drawn him. The reason that the sea looks so ooshy-skooshy is because the Whale is sucking it all into his mouth so as to suck in Mr. Henry Albert Bivvens and the raft and the jack-knife and the suspenders. You must never forget the suspenders.]

But as soon as the Mariner, who was a man of infinite-resource-and-sagacity, found himself truly inside the Whale’s warm, dark, inside cup-boards, he stumped and he jumped and he thumped and he bumped, and he pranced and he danced, and he banged and he clanged, and he hit and he bit, and he leaped and he creeped, and he prowled and he howled, and he hopped and he dropped, and he cried and he sighed, and he crawled and he bawled, and he stepped and he lepped, and he danced hornpipes where he shouldn’t, and the Whale felt most unhappy indeed. (Have you forgotten the suspenders?)

So he said to the ‘Stute Fish, ‘This man is very nubbly, and besides he is making me hiccough. What shall I do?’

‘Tell him to come out,’ said the ‘Stute Fish.

So the Whale called down his own throat to the shipwrecked Mariner, ‘Come out and behave yourself. I’ve got the hiccoughs.’

‘Nay, nay!’ said the Mariner. ‘Not so, but far otherwise. Take me to my natal-shore and the white-cliffs-of-Albion, and I’ll think about it.’ And he began to dance more than ever.

‘You had better take him home,’ said the ‘Stute Fish to the Whale. ‘I ought to have warned you that he is a man of infinite-resource-and-sagacity.’

So the Whale swam and swam and swam, with both flippers and his tail, as hard as he could for the hiccoughs; and at last he saw the Mariner’s natal-shore and the white-cliffs-of-Albion, and he rushed half-way up the beach, and opened his mouth wide and wide and wide, and said, ‘Change here for Winchester, Ashuelot, Nashua, Keene, and stations on the Fitchburg Road;’ and just as he said ‘Fitch’ the Mariner walked out of his mouth. But while the Whale had been swimming, the Mariner, who was indeed a person of infinite-resource-and-sagacity, had taken his jack-knife and cut up the raft into a little square grating all running criss-cross, and he had tied it firm with his suspenders (now, you know why you were not to forget the suspenders!), and he dragged that grating good and tight into the Whale’s throat, and there it stuck! Then he recited the following Sloka, which, as you have not heard it, I will now proceed to relate–

By means of a grating
I have stopped your ating.

For the Mariner he was also an Hi-ber-ni-an. And he stepped out on the shingle, and went home to his mother, who had given him leave to trail his toes in the water; and he married and lived happily ever afterward. So did the Whale. But from that day on, the grating in his throat, which he could neither cough up nor swallow down, prevented him eating anything except very, very small fish; and that is the reason why whales nowadays never eat men or boys or little girls.

The small ‘Stute Fish went and hid himself in the mud under the Door-sills of the Equator. He was afraid that the Whale might be angry with him.

HERE is the Whale looking for the little ‘Stute Fish, who is hiding under the Door-sills of the Equator. The little ‘Stute Fish’s name was Pingle. He is hiding among the roots of the big seaweed that grows in front of the Doors of the Equator. I have drawn the Doors of the Equator. They are shut. They are always kept shut, because a door aught always to be kept shut. The ropy-thing right across it is the Equator itself; and the things that look like rocks are the two giants Moar and Koar, that keep the Equator in order. They drew the shadow-pictures on the doors of the Equator, and they carved all those twisty fishes under the Doors. The beaky-fish are called beaked Dolphins, and the other fish with the queer heads are called Hammer-headed Sharks. The Whale never found the little ‘Stute Fish till he got over his temper, and then they became good friends again.

The Sailor took the jack-knife home. He was wearing the blue canvas breeches when he walked out on the shingle. The suspenders were left behind, you see, to tie the grating with; and that is the end of that tale.

Kipling added this short rhyme about a sea voyage to the story:

WHEN the cabin port-holes are dark and green
Because of the seas outside;
When the ship goes wop (with a wiggle between)
And the steward falls into the soup-tureen,
And the trunks begin to slide;
When Nursey lies on the floor in a heap,
And Mummy tells you to let her sleep,
And you aren’t waked or washed or dressed,
Why, then you will know (if you haven’t guessed)
You’re ‘Fifty North and Forty West!

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Astropup Returns
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$\"Astropup$ Quite a while ago, we heard from a dog called Astropup who told us about his adventures in space with clever parrot and a treasonous cat. The years have gone by, and Astropup has been continuing to have adventures. Now he returns to recount some of them.

Natasha is taking a break for a few weeks. We know that you will miss her. We are already – and she’s hardly been away yet ! But we do think that you will enjoy the voice of Richard Scott who is standing in for her.

That’s not the only news. We have a new sponsor Sweatpea3 who make an MP3 player that is specially designed for kids. It’s durable and easy to use, and it’s also cute. We think you will love it. Audible continue to back us too and we are grateful to both our sponsors.

Read by Richard. Story by Bertie. Duration 16.38.

Hello My name?s Astropup, which fitted me quite well way back when I was a young scalawag, but these days I?m more of an old space dog. If you?ve got a good memory, you might recall my first yarn on Storynory.com quite a while ago. That was when I travelled with a brainy parrot and a treasonous cat to a distant planet where cat people were the top dogs, so to speak. I?ve zoomed around the galaxy quite a bit since then, been there, done that, and thought you might like hear about some of my adventures. Well here goes.

After I got back from the abysmal Planet of the Cats, the people at the space centre hung a medal from my collar. For a short happy while, I returned to Jenny, the little girl who cares for me, but it wasn?t long before my other master – duty – was calling me again. As I had so successfully completed one mission, the humans wanted me for the next one. Better the dog you know, so to speak. They had picked up a signal from outer space. The voice sounded like a bark, and the scientists took it as evidence of an intelligent canine species from another world – one perhaps even smarter than sheep dogs.

Once again my traveling companion was the Parrot, who was a Major in the Space Force. His real name is a top secret, and although I do in fact know it, I can?t tell it to you. In any case, I always called him The Major. The Major wasn?t very talkative, or even very squarkative, for a parrot, but when he did speak, he always made good sense, like the time when he told me:

?Cats aren?t clever, you know, they?re cunning, and there?s a big difference.?

I won?t tell you all about lift off, and what a scary horrid feeling it is when you leave this world. I described all that terrible clattering and juddering in my first story. It was more bearable this time because we knew what to expect, and because we didn?t have to endure that cowardly cat screeching ?We?re all going to die? every five seconds.

I?m sure that if our spacecraft had been made for humans, there would have been every convenience, like sofas to lie on, carpets to chew on, and gourmet meals out of the freezer. But we animals and birds are second class citizens, even when we are saving the world. You?ve seen the boot of an estate car. Well that?s what our living quarters were like. You couldn?t even open the window. The parrot had a perch. I had a rubber bone. That was our lot for luxuries.

The Major is a brainy bird, and he understood a lot more scientific stuff than I ever will. He said the humans had found a way to bend space, so that we hurtled along at four times the the speed of light without actually going forward in time. Look, if you don?t understand that last sentence, neither do I, so don?t let it bother you. All you have to know is that this form of travel was too new, too untried, and too dicy for humans.

Once we had said goodbye to Earth, it was basically just us and the universe. I can?t tell you how quiet it is out there. And of course there?s no gravity to drag you down. As for that floating around business, it was alright for the bird, he was used to it, but us dogs prefer to keep our paws on the ground. If I wanted to sleep, which was most of the time, I had a kennel, and the walls and roof stopped me drifting off too far.

The parrot had brought along plenty to keep his clever feather brain occupied. He spent his time learning German, to add to his other languages, and solving cryptic crosswords on his computer.

After we had been bending space for about four weeks, we finally picked up a signal. I could clearly hear it through the speakers. It was three long woofs, followed by three short ones: Like this:

Woof woof woof
Wuf wuf wuf.

Intelligent life ! This is what we had come all this way to find. We had been trained in the procedure. The Major started to peck on some buttons on the wall. Our course locked onto the signal and we headed straight for its source. In the meantime, I returned some friendly barks into the microphone, but the major said that we would get there before the sound of my barks – figure that one out if you can.

Before too long, we sighted the distressed space craft through the big window. You could see it was in a bad way, because panels were missing off the roof, and bits and pieces of debris were trailing behind it.

?Best be careful,? said the Major, ?We don?t know if these aliens have friendly intentions.?

I couldn?t agree enough, but our orders were to make contact and, if possible, to bring any evidence of their life back to earth. I gruffed into the microphone,

?Hello canine friends. We come in peace. Would you like a tow to anywhere in the Universe?? But they just repeated the woofing exactly as before. It was just like a blooming recording.

?They don?t seem all that smart to me,? I said. The Major looked like he was about to say something clever, but he didn?t have a chance because seconds later there was a loud crash and we were both juddered and thrown all over the place. Fortunately the walls of our quarters were padded with cushions, or one of us might have broken a paw or a wing.

When we had recovered our senses, we saw that the idiots in the other craft had crashed into us. I mean, you?d think with all infinity to drive through, they could have found their own space. But at least our window was now next to there?s. We could see in – and just as I had suspected – their ship was crewed by three fellow pouches.

I can?t tell you what this moment meant to me. You travel millions of miles, you meet beings from another world, and it turns out that they are dogs who are smart enough to build and fly their own space craft, all be it badly.

While pride for my species was swelling in my heart, the Major squawked:

?You stay here. I?m going out for a space walk.?

His space suit was suspended from the ceiling. It was a clever design with a self fastening zip. He was dressed in about a minute, and not much later he was waving a wing at me from the other side of the window. I was glad it was him out there, not me. Fortunately he didn?t find much more damage to our ship than a couple of dents. He hooked up a towing rope to the other ship, and popped back inside via the air lock.

We were almost set to go. I said into the microphone: ?Right, where to boys?? and they beamed over a map. The Parrot spent some time studying our own star charts, and comparing theirs to ours. At last he squawked ?Got it !? and pecked some coordinates into our ship?s computer. The star map on the ceiling of our quarters lit up, and ?Zoom? we were on our way.

As we went, I tried to speak to the dogs in the other ship, but their woofs made little or no sense to me, and I gave up trying to communicate. They seemed to prefer snoozing to talking, and I thought to myself, ?Well we will see soon enough what the planet of the dogs is like.?

And sure enough, after only a couple of days we were already in orbit around their world. As I looked down into the swirling seas and sprawling land masses, it all seemed strangely familiar. It was as if I had seen it all before in a dream. I started to think big thoughts, like perhaps the spirits of dogs come from this world when we are born, and return here when we die. Perhaps somewhere else there is a planet of the parrots, and perhaps each and every species has its own home in one corner of the universe, where they are lords and masters and all is perfect for them, just like the humans rule our Earth.

The dogs in the other ship sent over another map with instructions about where to land. If anything, entering a world is worse than leaving it. The ship grows horribly hot with friction against the atmosphere, and you are going so fast you can?t help wondering if you?re going to crash and that will be it, but when the parachute opens and you are drifting down through a clear sky, all is bliss. I wondered what our welcoming party would be like. No doubt they would be as amazed to meet dogs from another planet as we were. My only worry was that they might think me stupid, because it seemed to me that their canine civilisation was as advanced as the humans? on our own planet.

We landed, as you generally do, with a bone shuddering thud, and after weeks of weightlessness, I had trouble standing up. It?s like learning to to walk all over again. The parrot was flying before I was walking. He was fluttering at the window.

?Core !! ? he said, which was his own parrot language and I didn?t understand it. Then he switched into English, which is what Jenny spoke and which I understand perfectly.

?You?re not going to like this,? he said. I staggered over to the window and pressed my nose against it. A cart was coming towards us along a track through the field. It was pulled by a set of four dogs in harnesses. Seated above in the vehicle were two hideous creatures. It wasn?t the first time we had seen such abominations. They were cat people !

It breaks my heart to recount what happened next. The ship that we had towed was lying on its side. I wondered if the poor dogs had suffered broken bones in the landing, but they were unhurt. The hatch flew open, and they climbed out, and jumped down onto the ground. They ran across the field, their tales wagging, towards the cart. They were glad to be home – back to where dogs were slaves – back to the Planet of the Cats !

?I?ve seen enough,? I said. ?Let?s get out of here,? and the Parrot started to apply his beak to the computer. A few pecks fired the rockets and we were lifting off. I hope that our exhaust singed some cat whiskers down below, and if it burned some dog fur, so be it: they were cowards and traitors to their own kind.

For a long while I was silent. I could not take it in. Eventually, when we were well on our way, I said to the Major:

?Why? Why did they want to go back? They were free dogs. We could have taken them back to Earth where they could hold their tails high? Ours might not be the planet of the dogs, but at least, the humans treat us, well, humanely, and not like slaves.?

?Why?? said the parrot. ?Some creatures find freedom frightening.?

And I thought to myself, that however much I loved Jenny and my family life, I also loved the freedom of space travel. Yes it was a scary business, but when you are out there in the universe, nobody can tell you what to do. I made a promise to myself that I would never be afraid of freedom, and one day I would find the corner of the universe which dogs can call their own home.

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The Vigilante Monkey
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$\"monkey$ The adventures of Theo the Monkey take a new turn as he determines to break out of the zoo and take up the fight for what is right in the City.

Mr. Grabber, the keeper of the monkeys cage, has a new scheme which on the face of it seems to be in a good cause. When Theo digs deeper, he finds that Mr. Grabber and his girlfriend are up to their usual criminal tricks.

Read by Natasha. Story by Bertie. Picture by Tania Fernandes . Sponsored byAudible. Duration 13.51.

Hello, This is Natasha, and I?m dropping by with a story about Theo the Monkey. You may remember that Theo?s arch enemy is Mr. Grabber, the zoo keeper who is always up to some criminal schemes. Theo believes in justice and is infuriated that Mr. Grabber always seems to get away with his crimes. In this story, Theo decides that he must take up the fight for what is right.

One evening, after the zoo was closed, Mr. Grabber, the keeper of the monkeys, opened the door to the cage.

?Which of you hairy gang would like some banana ice cream?? he called out.

?Oooh, ah ah aha!? replied the nearest half a dozen monkeys who had heard him.

?Well swing on out of the cage and work for your keep,? said Mr. Grabber.

Theo was among the monkeys who reported for duty in a line outside the cage. He wondered what criminal scheme Mr. Grabber would have up his sleeve this time. But that evening, the keeper?s aim seemed surprisingly public spirited. He ordered them to pick up litter and to put it into black bin bags, and whenever they found an old entrance ticket to the zoo, to put it into a special green bag to be recycled. And he promised that he would exchange banana ice cream for full bags of litter.

The monkeys understood perfectly well what to do, and soon they were hopping around the zoo, trailing litter bags behind them, some black, some green. Sometimes one of them would try to put a crisp packet or a sandwich wrapper inside a green bag, and Mr. Grabber would yell.

?Oy, you, that monkey ! Only tickets go in the green bag.?

And while the monkeys were working, Mr. Grabber tipped full bins of litter onto the ground and told them to sort out the tickets from the rest of the rubbish.

After an hour and a half of litter picking, the monkeys claimed their reward, and Mr. Grabber was as good as his word. He gave each of them a big tub of yellow ice cream.

?And there will be more of that tomorrow evening,? he promised.

After dark, Theo spoke to Fucious, the most respected old monkey in their tribe.

?Oh wise one, ? he said, ?What is the meaning of Mr. Grabber?s tidying and recycling? Is he a reformed man??

The silver haired monkey scratched his head. ?It is indeed very puzzling. Perhaps even a man as selfish and greedy as Mr. Grabber wishes to save the planet from a mountain of rubbish.?

The next day, the Peters family joined the queue of visitors outside the zoo. Little Jack Peters said:

?I want to see the monkeys and feed them chocolate through the bars so that they all go crazy like this,? and he did a little dance while he scratched himself under the arms.

?That?s silly,? said both his sisters, quite unamused.

When they reached the pay kiosk, Mr Peters asked to pay for two adults and three children.

?That will be £125 sir,? said the ticket seller.

?Oh dear,? said Mr. Peters. ?That is rather a lot. I don?t think I have enough money on my payment card.?

?Sorry sir. The prices went up at New Year,? said the ticket seller.

?Sorry kids,? said Mr. Peters, ?The zoo?s too expensive. We?ll have to go to the playground in the park. At least that?s still free.?

As the dejected family started to leave, a lady came up to them and said: ?Would you like some cheap tickets to the zoo? I bought some for my family in advance, but now grandma has been taken ill and we can?t go. I?ll let you have five for 50 quid.?

Mr. Peters knew a bargain when he saw it and gladly paid.

But he didn?t know that the lady was Mr. Grabber?s girlfriend, and she was selling the recycled tickets that the monkeys had picked up. It was Mr. Grabber?s latest criminal scheme to make quick and easy money .

The plot would have gone undetected, if Theo had not been watching from the top of the cage. His sharp eyes spotted what was happening just outside the entrance to the zoo, and he understood everything.

That evening Theo tried to stop the other monkeys from helping Mr. Grabber to recycle old zoo tickets.

?Don?t do it. You are aiding and abetting a criminal scheme,? he told them.

?No we?re not. Recycling is good,? said a monkey called Janice as she hopped out of the cage to join that evening?s ice cream gang.

Once again, Theo climbed up onto the rock of the wise ones in the centre of the cage, and he consulted Fucious.

?Master, what am I to do?? he asked.

?Stay calm, be patient, watch, and wait for inspiration to tell you what to do,? advised the old monkey.

But Theo was not very good at staying calm and being patient. He was bursting with anger and fury :

?I can not stay here and watch Mr. Grabber get away with it once again!,? he said to himself. ? I cannot stand living with this bunch of monkeys who see no evil, hear no evil, and speak no evil even when it is taking place right in front of their noses. I must get out of here. I must escape !?

He fumed for another 24 hours until Mr. Grabber once again opened the cage and offered banana ice cream to the first six monkeys to report for litter picking duty. Theo made sure that he was first to swing out of the cage. He could smell freedom. But before he made his break for it, he quietly slipped his paw into Mr. Grabber?s coat pocket and pulled out a key. Later, when everyone else was busy picking up litter as fast as they could, he climbed up a tree that reached over the wall of the zoo.

Theo landed in the car park. He made for the red motor cycle which he knew belonged to Mr. Grabber. He hopped on board, and looked around the for the ignition. When he found it, he fumbled to get the keys into the slot.

Just then he heard a cry of

?Oy, Stop that Monkey?

Mr. Grabber was running from the zoo gate. His girl friend opened the door of a van where she was waiting, jumped out, and came running towards him from the other direction. She almost managed to grab hold of Theo just as motor cycle?s engine burst into life. Theo let out the clutch and the bike went shooting forward. He was accelerating like a bullet straight for Mr. Grabber who had to dive out of the way.

?Quick, get the van? called Mr. Grabber, And his girl friend ran back to to where it was parked. Soon they were out on the street – They saw Theo shoot through some red lights, causing cars to serve and hoot madly.

?He won?t get far like that,? said the girlfriend.

?But what about my bike? He?ll smash it up for sure.? said Mr. Grabber sadly. It was no use chasing. Theo was soon out of sight.

Theo seemed to know how to ride the bike instinctively. ?I must have been a motor cyclist in a previous life,? he thought to himself gleefully, as he dodged round an oncoming police car. He could hear the wailing of sirens, but they soon faded far behind him.

As he chugged up a side road more slowly now, he saw something that filled him with anger. A woman was walking along holding the hand of a small boy, who skipped beside her, trying to avoid the cracks in the pavement. Two youths ran up behind her. One pushed her over, and the other grabbed her handbag. The boy scrammed ?Mummy!?. The muggers ran down the street, and they moved even faster when they heard a motor bike revving up behind them. Perhaps you can imagine the terror that one youth felt as a hairy paw grabbed him by the collar and dragged him to the ground. The motor bike skidded round. The monkey jumped off and grabbed the hand bag. A tug of war ensued, the monkey pulling one way, the youths another. A police van pulled up and six officers jumped out and slapped handcuffs on the monkey and the youths.

As the police officer helped the woman to her feet, she said :

?Officer. That monkey helped me. He was rescuing my handbag.?

?Sorry Madam. I?m afraid he?s a notorious criminal, escaped from the zoo. There?s been a call out on all police radios for him. Fits the description exactly he does.?.

?But he?s a good monkey,? cried the boy.

But the police could not hold Theo for long. He was the Harry Houdini of monkeys. Even as the officer spoke, Theo was wiggling his hairy wrists out of the cuffs. Before a policeman could shout ?Stop that Monkey! ? He was on his motor bike and racing down the street.

?Hurray! ? called the small boy. ?He?s escaped!?

By the next day, pictures of Theo?s face were in all the newspapers and on all the television broadcasts. Overnight he had become by far the most notorious monkey in the country, if not the world.

He hid the motor bike in the park, because he knew that if he continued to ride it, he would run into a police road block soon or later. He hopped over the rooftops of the town, wondering what fate lay in store for him. His stomach complained bitterly of hunger. He could see fruit store holder down at street level.

?Oooo ! those bananas and apples look so delicious,? he thought to himself. ?I could just hop down and pick up some. But oh, I don?t have any money. And it?s wrong to steal. I don?t want to be a criminal like Mr. Grabber, even if the police say that?s what I am.?

But he was so hungry, that he found himself somehow drawn down to the ground, and towards the store. He stared with a starving look at the bananas.

?Hey you?re that monkey,? said the store holder.

Theo didn?t run away. He just looked at him, almost ready to give himself up for in return for some food from the prison kitchen.

?You?re the one they call the Vigilante Monkey,? went on the store holder. ?You?re doing a great job. The public?s right behind you. Here, have a banana, take a whole bunch. Take two bunches.?

Theo expected a trick, and as he crept forward he was on the look out for the gleam of handcuffs, and he half thought he could hear the sound of sirens.

But there was no trick. The store holder did give him the bananas, as well as a bag of apples, and a bunch of grapes.

?It?s a pleasure to meet you sir,? he said. ?Now be on your way, and mind you don?t get caught. This city needs you.?

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