My Friend Walter: Part 2

By MICHAEL MORPURGO

We haven't got much in common, Will and me.

When he's not shooting or fishing, he's down in the cellar making horrible smells in the chemistry laboratory he's set up down there. I'd like to like him more I know I ought to.

There there's Little Jim. Little Jim was born about eight months ago.

He always needs feeding or changing or picking up or mopping up. I spend a lot of time looking after Little Jim, but he doesn't seem to appreciate it.

He loves to pull my hair out by the roots or to tear my ears off whenever he can. He never does that to Gran.

Gran has been living with us in the house for as long as I can remember. She's nearly eighty now.

I know she means well, but she does go on a bit sometimes.I suppose you could say that it was an ordinary sort of a morning in our house the day the postcard came.

The toast burnt and Father shouted and spluttered with his mouth full of cornflakes. I was giving Little Jim his breakfast. Mother was trying to rescue the toast and to see to Gran's boiled egg, all at the same time.

Publisher: Egmont/Mammoth

Price: $14.95

Age group: 10-plus years

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