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This is a story for all you old soldiers to read to your Great Grandchildren.
Picture by Francess Richardson
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Once upon a time, right at the end of the Wibbly Wobbly Woods in Ogopolo Land, there was a simply enormous tree. As a matter of fact, and for all I know, it may be there still, my dears.
This story is not about that tree though; no, it is about the four comical dwarfs who lived under it. The people who lived round about there, called them ‘The Squabbly Dwarfs’.
At the bottom of that tree, right between the two biggest roots, was a very small door. This door led to a big room inside, though the door was so small that you would never have noticed it, unless someone had showed you where it was. If you wanted to see it, you would have had to lie on your tummy, and poke your head right in there between those roots.
But although you probably would not have noticed the door, you would almost certainly have heard some very queer noises, if you happened to be in that part of the woods at the right moment.
I don’t suppose you have ever heard dwarfs squabbling, my love, but when they do, they make a terrible din. And those four dwarfs were as bad tempered and squabbly as they could possibly be; the result was they hardly ever stopped quarrelling, from the time they woke up in the morning, until it was time for them to go to sleep again.
The Squabbly Dwarfs’ names were Mic, Nic, Dic, and Ric, and it’s no good asking me which one of them was the best, nor which was the worst, because they all seemed to be as bad as each other. You know how horrible it sounds when human children keep squabbling all the time, don’t you? Well, these particular dwarfs sounded ten times as bad as they do, because, you see, they had such loud squeaky voices.
The truth is, I cannot understand how those dwarfs put up with each other, day after day, for hundreds of years, all together under that enormous old tree, right at the end of the Wibbly Wobbly Woods in Ogopogo Land.
Take Mondays, for instance; it was nearly always the same. Mic would wake up first, and, as usual, he would be feeling extra grumpy, because it was Monday. First he would cough as loudly as he could; he did not see why any of the others should have any more sleep, not now that he was awake.
Then Nic would wake up feeling extra cross, because Mic had upset him by making such a noise. He would usually look down at his bedclothes and complain,
‘Bah! my bed’s filthy;
‘It’s your turn to do the washing this week;
‘Just you make sure you get it cleaner than you did last time!’ (None of them ever spoke politely to the others, no, never.)
Then Mic would scream;
‘Oh no it’s not my turn, I distinctly remember doing it three weeks ago, because there was a big hole in your pillow case that I had to mend!
‘So it must be Dic’s turn.’
Then Dic would jump out of bed, shake his fist, and cry;
‘Don’t you try your dirty tricks on me, just because you’re too lazy.
‘I did it the week before last, and I can prove it because it rained all day and I had to dry it all inside the tree. . . ‘
That squabble would probably have lasted all day, but they would all be awake by now, and very hungry. So then they would all try to be the quickest one to get dressed, so that they could scoff more than their fair share of the breakfast before anyone else saw how much they had taken.
Ric would usually be first there, because he was the greediest of them all. Mic was generally the last, because he was the laziest one. Then he would look in the corn-flakes box, and yell,
‘You nasty greedy lot, there’s hardly any left!
‘Now you’ll each have to give me some off your plates!’
Then the others would all wrap their arms round their plates looking sulky and grumpy, and they’d say together;
‘You’ll get none of mine, I didn’t take much!’ But then none of them would be able to eat anything at all now, because Mic would keep standing near them, ready to jump in and grab a handful of corn-flakes, should any of them remove their arms. And they would all three be shouting nasty things at Mic, while he waited to pounce on their plates.
But after about an hour, they would get too hungry to squabble any longer, so in the end they would each have to give up a portion to Mic, before they could eat their own. The surprising thing is that they never seemed to learn how stupid all this quarrelling was.
Then, after breakfast, they would of course have to quarrel over whose turn it was to wash up the breakfast things, and whose turn it was to dry them. But that squabble could only last for a quarter of an hour, because it was nearly time for them to gather up their tools, and start out for the liquorice allsorts factory on Heely Hooly Hill, where they all worked. But even then one could hear;
‘Who’s pinched my hatchet?’
‘Who’s it that’s blunted my knife?
‘I’m sure it’s you!’
‘That’s not true, it was Dic!’ and so on. Then they would be sure to kick up a din like that, all the way into the factory.
And it would be just the same when at last they did arrive in the factory. There would be screams of,
‘Who’s had the sugar?’ or,
‘Someone’s been at my hundreds and thousands!’ and,
‘Oy, I just saw Ric take a handful of my sweeties when he thought I couldn’t see him.
‘Look! he’s still eating them!
‘Now he can give me two handfuls of his as a punishment!’
So it went on, for hour after hour, day after day and for week after week, every year, and even for hundreds of years. You would have thought they’d have got fed up, wouldn’t you my love? Especially as it’s so much more fun when your friends are nice to you than when they’re nasty, isn’t it? And, after all, we can’t really expect friends or brothers to be nice to us if we’re nasty ourselves. That’s true, isn’t it?
I am really glad that you do not usually squabble with your friends, or brothers and sisters, like those silly Squabbly Dwarfs did.
Well, I must say that things went from bad to worse; indeed, they got so bad, that in the end someone told Fairy Petal all about those Squabbly Dwarfs, who lived in the room in that enormous tree right at the end of The Wibbly Wobbly Woods in Ogopolo Land.
Now you’ll be surprised to hear that Petal felt sorry for them, in spite of the stupid way in which they behaved. We don’t feel sorry for them do we? We think it only served them right. But that’s only because we haven’t got such kind hearts as that Dears little Fairy Petal. And what is more important, is that she knew that it isn’t enough just to feel sorry; it is necessary to do something if you want to help. Otherwise, the fairy knew she would be no better than you or I.
Once Petal had made up her mind to help, she did not think,
‘Perhaps I’ll go tomorrow,
‘Or the next day,
‘Or next week.’ No; she knew that once you’ve decided to do something to help, it’s better to do it straight away, because the fairies have a saying;
Never put off till tomorrow,
What can be done today;
For time you’re not able to borrow,
Today is the time to make hay.
So she got out her magic wand that very moment, and flew to the tree right at the end of The Wibbly Wobbly Woods in Ogopogo Land, to wait for the Squabbly Dwarfs to return from their work.
While she was waiting, she thought to herself,
‘Oh Dears, why is it that my good deeds so often go wrong?
‘Perhaps I had better not try and magic all those dwarfs at once.
‘I think that, for a start, I shall just to try it on one of them, to see if my magic works.’
So she lay down behind a bush, because her magic would not work if the dwarfs saw what she was hoping to do.
At that moment she heard squeaky squabbling voices, which seemed to be coming from the path in the woods, and Petal knew that it must be the dwarfs. They were on their way home to their big room under the tree.
Then she saw the first of the miserable, grumpy faces, and what an ugly sight it was! One after the other they came, all looking alike. Mic was the first, and close behind him was Nic. Then came Dic, and Ric followed, last. They were all shouting at each other, arguing over whose turn it was to get the tea.
Now Petal did not know the names of any of those Squabbly Dwarfs, but that didn’t matter a bit, as she had decided to magic the last one first.
So, as soon as that last one had passed by, she stepped out from behind her bush, waved her magic wand seven times, before saying the magic words.
Then she flew home to get her own tea. She was in rather a hurry to get back, because she was going to have some of her favourites - jelly, cream doughnuts, and pineapple.
Ric did not feel any different at first, after being magicked; that was because this kind of magic only works very slowly until you go to bed, and then it carries on working while you are asleep. So Ric, together with the others, was quarrelling as usual, right up until the time they got into their beds, and fell asleep. And, to tell you the truth, I think they even quarrelled in their dreams!
As usual, the first one to wake up the next morning was Mic. He woke all the others up with his pretend bad cough.
Nic grumbled;
‘Oh bother! there’s no water in my bucket;
'I’m thirsty and I want a wash.
'Go and fetch some at once Dic, you know it’s your turn.’
Dic cried angrily;
‘Oh no it isn’t, you’re lying!’ and he waved his fists like he always did, as he continued to shout,
‘I got it the day before yesterday . . . ‘
But before he was able to finish, Ric quietly interrupted him with;
‘It’s all right brothers, I’ll go and fetch two buckets-full, right away.’
After that, for the first time in a hundred years, their room under the enormous tree in The Wibbly Wobbly Woods in Ogopogo Land was perfectly quiet for a short time.
After Ric had left with the empty buckets, Nic was the first to speak, that is to say, when he had recovered from his surprise;
‘What ever is the matter?’ he asked.
‘It wasn’t his turn to fetch that water, I’m absolutely sure he fetched it yesterday morning.
‘So he must be up to one of his nasty tricks, once again!’ cried Mic,
‘We shall have to watch him very carefully when he comes back!’ But Dic said;
‘Oh Dears, I think he may have gone wrong in the head.
‘I believe he ought to have a doctor, because if he dies we are sure to have to do all his share of the work!’
It was quite a long way to the nearest well, and while Ric was fetching the water, the others continued to argue and dispute over the question - why had Ric changed? Suddenly they heard him coming back, and they quietened down when he entered with the two buckets of water.
‘What is it you are squabbling about now?’ he asked them. But it was not easy for them to answer, was it my love? They were all still in bed, and they covered their heads with their bed-clothes. That was the first time in their lives that they had ever been ashamed of themselves.
When Ric went to have his breakfast, all alone, Mic suddenly whispered to the others;
‘I know what his game is!
‘He only went to fetch the water because he wanted to be first at the table;
‘Now he’ll be eating up all the corn-flakes!’
With a shout, they all jumped out of bed and ran over to the table. But when they saw what a tiny helping Ric had on his plate, they felt even more ashamed, and skulked back to their beds, to get dressed.
And so it went on all day. When one of them shouted that someone had blunted his axe, Ric offered him his sharp one. When Dic caught Nic stealing his sweeties, Ric gave each of them a handful of his own.
By the end of the day, as Ric had worked all day without squabbling, the others saw that he had made three times as many liquorice allsorts as they had.
Then, next day when Ric offered to fetch the water yet again, Nic cried;
‘Wait on!
‘I’m coming with you!’ and leaving Mic and Dic in bed quarrelling, they took a bucket each and walked to the well together.
‘Tell me your secret!’ said Nic.
‘Why is it, that since yesterday, you never quarrel any more like me and the others?’
‘I don’t know what it was that started me off behaving like this,’ he replied.
‘But I do know this;
‘Now that I’ve tried it, I’ve discovered it’s much more fun without quarrelling;
‘So I have decided to keep on being peaceful in future!’
‘Coo, I’d like to try that too, if you wouldn’t mind!’ Nic told him.
‘Then, with the two of us not squabbling, we shall probably be able to have even more fun!’
‘Join the club my friend!’ laughed Ric. And that was the first laugh a Squabbly Dwarf had given, in over a hundred years.
It will be difficult for you to believe, my Dears, but the next day it was Mic who joined ‘The Club’, and decided to become a good, friendly Dwarf.
And after that, Dic found out that it is impossible to quarrel on your own; so in the end he gradually became a friendly Dwarf as well.
When the neighbours told The Fairy Petal what had happened to all that squabbling, she decided that there was no need to return to perform any more magic, which pleased her, very much. Especially because that was the first bit of magic she had done for such a long time that had not gone wrong.
Now that the Dwarfs had stopped their squabbling, they made so many liquorice allsorts, that by the end of the month, when the time came for them to go into town to sell them, they found they would have enough money to buy themselves new musical instruments (because, you see, a hundred years before, they had broken up each others’ old instruments during one of their fights).
So the next day, when they went back to town to buy their corn-flakes, soap powder, and all the other things they needed, they called in at the music shop as well. In there, Mic bought himself a fiddle, Nic got a flute, Dic a trumpet, and Ric bought a lovely set of shiny blue drums.
And, my Dears, if you should happen to walk by that enormous tree right at the end of The Wibbly Wobbly Woods in Ogopogo Land, these days, I am sure you will not hear any sound of squabbling; but you might just possibly be lucky enough to hear the dwarfs practising their dance music.
Because, once a month, when the moon is full, the Queen of The Fairies brings all her little people to The Wibbly Wobbly Woods, where they dance all night to the joyous sound of the Dwarf’s music. And you would see that the elves were all queuing up for their turn to dance with that Dears little Fairy Petal.
And now, if you asked one of the neighbours where The Squabbly Dwarfs live, they will no longer know who you are talking about; because these days, they call them ‘The Friendly Dwarfs’.
There now, that is the happy ending to that little story, my love. I know there will be no need for me to ask you to wake up good in the morning, and without quarrelling, is there? Good night!

The End

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