MR ODDMEDODD
There was once a naughty little girl called Prissie, who wouldn’t do what she was told. She wouldn’t stay quietly in the garden and play like a good girl, but she would slip the latch of the front gate, and run across the road to look in the sweet-shop there. “ One of these days Mr Oddmedodd will get you!” her mother said. “He often walks along the other side of the road, and you’ll be very sorry for yourself if he catches you.” But Prissie wouldn’t listen. The very next time she was alone in the garden she slipped the latch and ran straight across the road to look at the sweetshop. And who should come out of it at that very moment but Mr Oddmedodd himself! He was a very odd-looking fellow with one eye blue and one eye brown, and ho wore a very tall hat. When he saw Prissie he caught her up and put her into his hag. He took her to his home and gave her to his wife.'
“Now, Mrs Oddmedodd,” he said, “get my dinner ready, please. I’ll have this naughty little girl. I’m just going out to get some parsley, so see she doesn’t escape,” With that, off he went and left Prissie alone with Mrs Oddmedodd. “I don’t think Mr Oddmedodd is a very nice man,” said Prissie. “Oh. yes, my dear, he is,” said Mrs Oddmedodd. “Ho never eats good little girls, only bad ones. Just put some more coal on the fire, will you?” Prissie went to the coal-scuttle and looked in. “There isn’t any coal,” she said. “Dear, dear, what a nuisance!” said Mrs Oddmedodd, in a great way about it. “ There’s not a bit left in the cellar either. What in the world shall I do? I must cook Mr Oddraedodd’s dinner for him.” “ Well,” said Prissie, “ our coal man came to-day, so we’ve plenty of coal. Shall I take your big shovel and go and get you some of ours?” “ That would be very sweet and hind of you,” said Mrs Oddmedodd. “ Bun along now and don’t be long.” Prissie tore out of the door and didn’t stop running till she got home. Then she ran indoors and kept close to her mother all day long. She didn’t take any coal back to Mrs Oddmedodd. Not she!
For quite a long time Prissie was good and played in the garden. Then one day a naughty feeling came over her and she slipped the latch again and ran across the road to look into the
sweet shop. At that very moment Mr Oddmedodd came along and whisked her into his bag. In two minutes she was in Mrs Oddmedodd’s kitchen. “My, if it isn’t the naughty little girl that ran off with my shovel last time!” said Mrs Oddmedodd. “ See that you cook her for my dinner,”- said Mr Oddmedodd. “ I’m just going out to dig up a few potatoes.” “ Does Mr Oddmedodd like cabbage?” asked Prissie. “ Yes, that he does,” answered Mrs Oddmedodd. “ But it won’t grow in our garden, I don’t know why, and we can’t afford to buy any.’-’ “ We’ve got lots in our garden, said Prissie. “ Shall Igo and got one? I’m sure Mr Oddmedodd would enjoy it.” “Well, if that isn’t kind and generous of youl” cried Mrs Oddmedodd. “Rim right along now and get it.” Prissie ran out, of the door and puffed and panted all the way home. How glad she was to be safely back again! She made up her mind that she would never, never be naughty again. But she was, you know, there came a day when once more she slipped the latch and ran across the road to look at the sweet shop. And who should come bv at that very moment but Mr Oddmedodd! In a twinkling he had caught up Prissie and stuffed her into his pocket. . . Soon she stood again in Mrs Oddmedodd’s kitchen. ' “ Well, if it isn’t the naughty little girl who didn’t bring me that cabbage.” said Mrs Oddmedodd. “ Now, Mr Oddmedodd, you’d better get a rope and tie her to the table leg this time, or she’s sure to get away some- “ I will,” said Mr Oddmedodd, and he looked about for a rope. But he couldn’t find one. “ There’s one in that drawer,’ said Mrs Oddmedodd. So Mr Oddmedodd opened it and found a length of rope. It was not very strong, and was frayed here and there. " I could easily break through that rope,” said Prissie. “ It’s no use at all. My mother has a fine clothes line. Shall I go and fetch it for you? That is strong and new.” “ Well, that would be a good idea, said Mr and Mrs Oddmedodd together. “Run along now and fetch it, but don’t be long because it’s nearly our dinner time.” Off ran Prissie out of the door, and how she scampered back home! She ran in through her garden gate, and went to find her mother. Then she felt * “ I’ll never, never, never go out of the garden gate alone again until I’m quite eight years old!” she said. And you will bo glad to hear that she never did!
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Bibliographic details
Evening Star, Issue 21090, 30 April 1932, Page 5
Word Count
874MR ODDMEDODD Evening Star, Issue 21090, 30 April 1932, Page 5
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