"Children's Books - Dopey Dennis" - читать интересную книгу автора (Children's Books)

lying on a table, opened it . . . and started to scatter all the flour it
contained. "Splendid! The flour will absorb the wine and I can walk about the
cellar without wetting my feet," he cried.
In no time at all, he had spread not one but five bags of good flour on the
floor. In the end, the floor was covered with a wine-coloured, soft, sticky
paste, and as he walked on it, it stuck to his shoes. Dennis went to get the
jug he had filled and carried it in great delight back to the table, leaving
red footprints everywhere.
"Mum is going to be really pleased," he said.
Nevertheless, when he thought of all the mess he had made, he began to fear
a scolding and maybe punishment too. "Never mind," he said, "I'll drink the
poison and die." So he went to the cupboard and picked up the jar. He thought
the poison would be a black liquid, but the jar contained a red cream. He
picked up a spoon and said, "I'll eat it then instead of drinking it."
Just as he was about to take his first spoonful, he realised how silly he
was. Nobody should ever eat poison, not even when your name is Dopey Dennis.
Instead, he decided to hide from his mother so that she would not be able to
punish him.
A quarter of an hour later, his mother returned. When she saw the
overturned furniture, the broken plates and the red footprints, she got a
fright and cried, "Dennis! What has happened? Where are you? Answer me!"
There was no reply, but she suddenly noticed a pair of legs sticking out of
the oven.
"I'm not surprised you are hiding from me, Dennis, after causing all this
mess," she said. "Well, while I am clearing up after you, you can take this
roll of cloth to the market and try and sell it for a good price." And she
handed the boy a roll of cloth as she spoke. "Oh, I will," said Dennis. "Leave
it to me."
When he got to market, Dennis began to shout, "Cloth! Who'll buy this
lovely cloth?" Several women came over and asked him,
"What kind of cloth is it? Is it soft? Is it hard-wearing? Is it dear? How
long is it? How much does it cost"? Dennis exclaimed:
"You talk too much, and I don't sell things to chatterboxes," and off he
went. He passed by a statue and mistook it for a fine gentleman, so he asked
it, "Sir, would you like to buy this fine cloth? Yes or no? If you don't say
anything, that means you do. Look here! Do you like it? Yes? Good! Then take
it," and he left the cloth beside the statue and went home.
"Mum! Mum!" he cried. "I've sold the cloth to a very well-dressed
gentleman!" The woman asked:
"How much did he give you for it?" Dennis muttered,
"Oh! I forgot to ask him for the money! Don't worry, I'll go and ask him
for it." He ran back to the statue but the cloth had gone. Someone had clearly
taken it away. Said Dennis to the statue, "I see you've taken the cloth home
already. Fine, now give me the money!" Of course, the statue did not reply.
Dennis repeated his request, then losing his temper, he picked up a stick and
began to beat the statue about the head . . . which broke off and rolled to
the ground. Out of the head poured a handful of gold coins, hidden there by
goodness knows who! Dennis picked up the coins, put the head back in position
and went home.
"Look!" he called. And his mother stared in astonishment at this small