"Where's my walking stick gone?" shouted Mr Stamp-About, coming into the kitchen in a great rage. "It's gone again. It's not in the hall-stand where it should be. What have you done with it? What have you done with it?"
Mrs Stamp-About blinked at her angry husband. "don't you lend your stick to Mr Flap the day before yesterday?"
"Well if I did, why hasn't he brought it back?" yelled Mr Stamp-About. "Why isn't it in the hall-stand?"
"Oh, go and ask him, dear," said his wife. So off went Mr Stamp-About, stalking down the street to Mr Flap's house. He banged at the door.
"Oh, it's you, Stamp-About," said Mr Flap. "Don't my knocker please! What do you want?"
"My stick that I lent you," said Stamp-About.
"Oh, your stick. Well I gave it to old Dame Shuffle yesterday," said Mr Flap. "She was limping badly. She said she would leave it at your house."
"Well she didn't. It isn't in the hall-stand'" said Mr Stamp-About, his face getting red again. "It never is in the hall-stand. Why isn't it there?"
"Go and ask Dame Shuffle," said Mr Flap, getting tired of Stamp-About, and he shut his door. Mr Stamp-About stamped off down the road, round the corner, and up the hill to Dame Shuffle's cottage. She was in her garden. Mr Stamp-About shouted to her.
"Where's my stick that Mr Flap lent you and told you to bring back to me? It's not in my hall-stand"
"Oh, your stick? Well I found I couldn't walk all the way to your house with it after all," said Dame Shuffle, "so I gave it to father Frown, and he said he'd drop it in for you when he passed by your house."
"Well he didn't. And it isn't in my hall-stand," said Mr Stamp-About. "I'd like to know why!"
"Go and ask Father Frown," said Dame Shuffle, "and don't shout so. It goes right through my head"
She went indoors. Mr Stamp-About went off, fuming, to find Father Frown. He lived at the other end of the village. He was leaning on his front gate, smoking a pipe.
"Hey, Father Frown!" yelled Mr Stamp-About, almost defending him.
"Where's my stick? It's not in my hall stand, and that's where it should be. Dame Shuffle gave it to you to drop in at my house when you passed by."
"so she did," said Father Frown.
"But I found I wasn't going your way after all, so I asked the butcher if he would mind giving it to you when he brought the meat today."
"Well he didn't bring it and I'd like to know why," said Mr Stamp-About, beginning to rage again.
"You'll burst one day if you go on like this," said Father Frown, frowning hard. "If you want to know why he didn't bring your stick, go and ask him. he lives in the village. It's on your way home.
Stamp-About stalked down the village to Mr Joint, the butcher. Mr Joint was cutting up some meat. He didn't like Mr Stamp-About at all.
"Where's that stick of mine?" said Mr Stamp-About.
"How should I know? said the butcher. "In your hall-stand, I expect."
"Then you expect wrong," shouted Stamp-About. "It's not. Father Frown gave it to you to deliver with the meat, and you didn't. Why not?"
"Because I didn't deliver any meat today," said Mr Joint. "You had fish from the fish-shop as you very well now. As for your stick, I gave it to your friend Mr Hallo, when he came for sausages this morning. He said he would take it to you at once."
Mr Stamp-About went out of the shop. he was thinking hard. Yes Hallo had come to see him. Had he given him back his stick? No, no, Hallo hadn't given him his stick. He had kept it himself.
He went off to Mr Hallo's house. Hallo lived next door but one to Stamp-About. He was in the garden, weeding.
"Hallo, Hallo!" said Mr Stamp-About, in rather a cross voice. "Why didn't you give my stick this morning when you came to see me?"
"I did," said Hallo, at once. "But you were so excited because you'd noticed a whole lot of ripe plums on your palm tree that you hardly thanked me."
"Well, my stick isn't in hall-stand," said Mr Stamp-About. "Where is it?'
"How should I know?" said Hallo, crossly "Your are always in such an excitement about something or other that I wonder you ever remember where anything is! Go and look for it yourself."
Mr Stamp-About went home< thinking hard. Hallo had come to see him. Yes, he certainly had been pleased about the ripe plums on that tree- but they had been high up and he couldn't reach them. But he had taken in a nice dishful for dinner. How had he got them? Of course - he had knocked them down WITH HIS STICK!
And when Stamp-About went into his garden, there was his stick, hanging meekly on a branch of the plum tree, exactly where he had left it. Oh dear, oh dear. Mr Stamp-About took it down, tiptoed in the house and put it into the hall-stand. His wife called him.
"Did you find your stick, dear? "Where is it?"
"In the hall-stand," said MR Stamp-About in such a meek voice that Mrs Stamp-About was really astonished. She went out into the hall to ask him more questions about his stick. But he had vanished. Yes - he had slipped out to the bottom of the garden, where he was very, very busy. But I have a feeling it wont be in that hall-stand tomorrow, because he'll lend it to somebody else and then the trouble will start again!
************THE END**********************
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