310: Putting “Pep” In Things

The opening of the new guest-house leads to all sorts of excitement, including visits from old friends, and the biggest, happiest dance ever recorded in the history of bushland!

Blinky Bill and Nutsy was first published in 1937, and as such it contains material that might be outdated, inaccurate or offensive, as well as material that would now be considered quite dark for children’s fiction. Aside from language that Madame Magpie is personally uncomfortable using, the text has been left as it was originally published, except for the final author's note, which has been modified from the original below:

If any little girl or boy should be the proud owner of a koala, please remember the poor wee thing cannot eat sweets, fruit, nuts, or all the nice things you like so much. His digestive organs are very primitive and all he needs is his own food—gum-tips; but remember not every gum-leaf is good for him, only those from the York, Flooded, Manna, and White gun-leaves are suitable.

These little animals need a great deal of petting and attention when in captivity, as petting is very necessary for them. They fret and grieve and finally die, if they are left alone, just as a baby would. The kindest action of all would be to leave the koala baby in his own bushland, among his own playmates, with the sun, the sky, the birds, and the gum-trees, where he will grow to manhood and live for many years—happy as he should be. 

Dorothy Wall

The audio of John W Bratton's The Teddy Bear's Picnic is from a 1908 recording of a performance by Arthur Pryor's Band, originally from the US Library of Congress (https://www.loc.gov/item/jukebox-126673/).

Madame Magpie will be taking a short break, as she decides what story to do next. Thank you for listening! 

Madame Magpie’s Bedtime Stories will always be available to stream for free, but if you’d like to support the podcast, you can do so via Patreon at patreon.com/MadameMagpie. For $3/month, Patreon members can download episodes for offline listening. 

Blinky Bill was written and illustrated by Dorothy Wall, first published by Angus & Robertson in 1933. Sound effects are from Zapsplat, Epidemic Sound, Pixabay, Soundly and Dylan Barfield. 

All images are made by Josh Dykgraaf using Dorothy Wall's original illustrations. Madame Magpie is a creation of Alix Roberts. Narration and character voices by Alix Roberts.

Madame Magpie’s Bedtime Stories are recorded and edited by Alix Roberts (aka Madame Magpie) on the lands of the Wurundjeri and Bunarong Peoples of the Kulin nation. Madame Magpie acknowledges the rich and extensive history of storytelling among Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples, and pays her respects to past and present elders of all nations.

Transcript

SPEAKER_01 0:00

Hello everyone. My name is Madame Magpie, and I'm here to tell you a story. This story is called Blinky Bill and Nutsy by Dorothy Wall. Chapter 6. Putting Pep in Things. All through the night, Splodge, Mrs. Koala, Blinky, and Nutsy worked at top speed. The whole place was transformed. From a stout limb of the gum tree dangled a rope, on the end of which Mrs. Scratchit's basket swayed to and fro, not far above the ground. At the foot of the tree, neatly arrayed in rows, lay the carrots, cabbages, and potatoes, interspersed with watercress and gum leaves. A large notice bravely planted in the heart of the largest cabbage, bore the following words for all the bushfolk to read. Mrs. Koala feeds her guests on these things. Take a good look. Have a good sniff. No tasting allowed. Then order your meals and beds from the manager. PS under no cirques need snakes apply. Ants may apply for employment as garbage removers. Signed Splodge, manager of this concern. Either the smell of the good things to eat or that strange thing called bush telegraphy had the effect of bringing animals of all descriptions from all corners of the bush. They peered and sniffed with their noses against the vegetables, dangerously close to their mouths. But Splodge had his weather eye open. When he found an animal a little too interested in the cabbages or carrots, he smartly rapped the offender on the back with the order, sniff and move on, please. Guests were booked in bunches. The climax came when Farmer Scratchit's old plough horse wandered upon the scene. How much for dinner? he asked Splodge. Sorry, sir, we're full up, Splodge replied, thinking very quickly. One dinner for Mr Ploughhorse would mean no dinner for anyone else. Fine cabbages you have there, Mr Ploughhorse remarked, nodding in the cabbage's direction. They're mighty like farmer Scratchets, the ones I helped to plough in. They're first cousins, Spludge replied, without twinking a whisker. Look here, my boy, Mr. Ploughhorse said under his breath, thrusting his nose right into Splodge's face. You give me a couple of carrots, or I'll let Farmer Scratchit know about this. Cousins or no cousins. I don't usually bribe people, Spludge said haughtily. But business is business, and I hate the way you snoop around. So take a couple of carrots and go. Mind you, if I catch you holding private conversations with Farmer Scratchit, it will be a bad day for you. Mr. Ploughhorse gave a loud nay and grabbed the carrots between his teeth. I hope they get stuck in his windpipe, Splodge said to Mrs. Koala, who had been standing by, nervously watching the whole business. He's a thief, Blinky shouted. We should all chase him off our premises. Amid an uproar of growling, screeching, and howling, Mr. Ploughhorse was sent about his business. After that, everything proceeded quietly. From a branch of the gum tree, Nutsi, at a given signal from Mrs. Koala, rang the dinner bells. That is to say, she waved a pawful of Christmas bells backwards and forwards, making the sweetest tinkle imaginable. Hooray! The guests shouted. Hooray for a gobble! All the eatables had been carefully hoisted up in the basket, on to the biggest limb of the tree, and there they were in full view of the guests below. As the dinner bell sounded, a wild scramble up the tree commenced by those who were able to climb, while the birds flew like darts up onto the bow. What'll we do? Mr. and Mrs. Wombat wailed. And me too, Mr. Wallaby echoed. You'll go up in the basket, Blinky exclaimed triumphantly as he proceeded to grab the rope. Get in, one at a time, and no pushing and shoving, he ordered. Ladies first! Mrs. Wombat simpered shyly as she waddled towards the basket. Hurry up and get in! Blinky shouted. Very clumsily, Mrs. Wombat fell into the basket with a shrill little scream. Oh! Let her go! Splodge said, beckoning to Blinky to haul at the rope. He hauled and hauled, pulled and tugged. But the basket didn't budge an inch. You're the fattest wombat I've ever met, Blinkie said crossly, the perspiration running down his nose. He's insulting me, Mrs. Wombat complained in a whining tone. I'll soon fix it, Splodge remarked, bounding over to the basket. Let me there, Blinky, and when I say go, pull with all your might. Get ready, he shouted. Now go! With a rush, Splodge sprang away in the opposite direction, the rope well around his shoulders. Up shot Mrs. Wombat in the basket, while Blinky was tumbled over and over in the rush. Away the basket went, right up to the dining room in the tree. Mrs. Wombat gave a nervous shriek, then, grabbing the limb of the tree with all her might, she pulled herself out of the basket and sprawled all over the cabbages. A most awkward landing, Mrs. Koala remarked, as she rushed forward to grab her guest, while the basket went whizzing to the ground again, ready for the next passenger. All were hoisted up in time, not without great excitement and many howls of dismay as the basket swung perilously near to going over the limb on occasions. But no accident happened, and everyone was elated when the sign to start dinner was given. It was a strange sight. Never before in the history of bushland had wombats, wallabies, kangaroos, rabbits, and such like ground animals had the pleasure of dining up in a tree. The chatter and grunting was deafening. Shrill calls from the birds only accentuated the din. The whole bush rang with mirth. Just when the fun was at its height, for Mrs. Wombat had suddenly swayed backward, and finding no branch to support her, had nearly fallen head over heels out of the tree, had it not been for Mr. Wallaby grabbing her around the leg and saving her from certain death. Mrs. Grunty and her son Snubby came padding through the bush. Mrs. Grunty had a scowl on her face. She was clearly annoyed. Hurrying along to the foot of the tree, she demanded in a loud voice to know the reason of such goings on in the bush. Splodge hurried out of his office. Anything I can do for you, Mrs. Grunty? He politely asked. All this noise and cackle what's the meaning of it? Mrs. Grunty asked, spluttering with indignation. That's our guest house, Splodge explained, pointing to the multitude up in the tree. I wish I had a chopper. I'd give them all a bump if I had. Mrs. Grunty snarled. How about going up and having some dinner? Splodge said soothingly. You don't know what you're missing. Me? Go up there, Mrs. Grunty gasped. Take my snubby up there where that bold cub of a blinky is. Shame on you all, she shouted. Go up and have some dinner, Splodge repeated. We're all going to have a hop in the moonlight afterwards. Oh! How scandalous! Mrs. Grunty could hardly speak with horror. You'll have the time of your life, Splodge said, laughing at the top of his voice, and gradually edging Mrs. Grunty and Snubby over towards the basket without her noticing what was happening. Still arguing loudly and protesting strongly about everything, Splodge managed to get her right up to the edge of the basket. Then, without a beg pardon or gentle argument, he gave her and Snubby a quick push, and head over heels the pair of them lay flat in the basket. Ahoy, Splodge yelled as he rushed out with the rope. Up shot the basket, yells and screams coming from its occupants, while those in the tree all leaned out to see what the noise was about. She's stuck, Blinky called at the top of his voice. And stuck she was. In mid-air, the basket was rocking violently, while Mrs. Grunty walloped about inside, only making the basket swing more dangerously as she clawed at one side and then the other. Blinky shouted, amid cheers and yells from the onlookers. One cookaburra had the impudence to fly down and perch on the handle of the basket, laughing loudly as it almost tumbled upside down. Mrs. Grunty made a wild lunge at the bird, and out she fell, but not altogether. Her wild grabbing at the side of the basket saved her from the final plunge to earth.

SPEAKER_00 14:03

Oh! How dreadful!

SPEAKER_01 14:05

How ghastly! She moaned as she flopped back into safety, and then, to everyone's surprise, fainted on top of Snubby. Spludge, in the meantime, worked terrifically with the rope. In his lightning-like rush, he had tangled the rope round a short tree, and there it stuck, refusing to move, until he backed and whipped it loose. That was the sign for further excitement, for as the rope freed itself, the basket came with a rush down to earth again. It landed. Snubby gave a little squeal and popped his head over the side, while Mrs. Grunty gave a deep sigh and opened her eyes. The bump had bumped her back into consciousness. Splodge rushed over to the basket and fanned Mrs. Grunty with a bunch of leaves, bringing the colour back to her face. You scoundrel! She snarled. Help me out of this trap at once! Every animal that could climb down the tree came with amazing speed, and all rushed over to Mrs. Grunty. Willing paws helped her to her feet, while Mrs. Koala waved a few of her very best gum tips under her friend's nose. It had the desired effect. Mrs. Grunty grabbed the leaves and ate them immediately. Poor soul, Mrs. Koala said sympathetically. Don't speak. Please don't address me, Mrs. Grunty replied weakly. I'll take her home, Spludge said to Mrs. Koala. But Mrs. Grunty overheard him. You'll do no such thing, she snapped. You're the cause of it all. And where's my Snubby? She suddenly remembered her son. Snubby was enjoying himself at the moment, being made a great fuss of by Nutsy, who offered him as many leaves as he could swallow. Let him stay for the hop, Nutsy pleaded, as Mrs. Grunty ordered him home. Yes, do everyone begged. It'll be the end of him. Mrs. Grunty sighed. The end of my discipline? The end of his childhood.

SPEAKER_00 17:10

Nonsense, Mrs. Koala said softly. Let him play with Natsy. She's the sweetest little thing.

SPEAKER_01 17:20

Oh very well, very well, Mrs. Grunty sighed. I wish I'd brought my knitting. It's a waste of time sitting around and doing nothing.

SPEAKER_00 17:34

But you're going to dance, Mrs.

SPEAKER_01 17:37

Koala replied, with a cheerful smile. Nonsense, Mrs. Grunty remarked shortly. The very idea. Already the frog quartet were tuning up their drums and croakers, while Walter Wombat, who was generally considered the finest band conductor in the bush, was sitting in a corner all by himself, working up his deep gump gump gumps. Piping crickets sounded their notes, and then, without further notice, a butcher bird started to carol. That was the signal for all to commence. Walter Wombat sprang to his feet. Gump! Gump gump he grunted, waving a stick in his front paws. Down it came with a crash on a rock, splitting it to smithereens. Pests and bothers! he exclaimed, hastily grabbing another stick that lay at his feet. Wacko! Let her rip! He shouted, and once more raised his baton above his head. Look out for the splinters! Blinky shouted, but Mr. Walter Wombat was too much of a gentleman to even pretend he heard this rude remark. The band started. Everyone jumped to his feet, grabbing the partner who happened to be nearest. Then, as the music suddenly changed into the teddy bear's picnic, laughs and shouts started the greatest and happiest dance ever seen in the bush. Round and round the foot of the old gum tree, the animals danced, hopped, and flew. Old Mr. Bombat grabbed Mrs. Grunty before she had time to protest, and Spludge rubbed his eyes to make sure he was seeing correctly when he spied these two frogs trotting, if you please. Mrs. Koala waltzed with Mr. Kangaroo, or tried to. His big feet would get in the way, until he ended up by seizing her around the waist and whirling around with her in mid-air. Splodge danced with Mrs. Wallaby and caused quite a sensation when both of them exhibited new steps to the audience. Splodge explained that the new dance was called the Zoom Rush. Nutsy danced with Snubby until Blinky buttered in. And then all three decided to have a dance on their own. On the outskirts of the other dances, these three little koalas tumbled and hopped, laughed and pranced, until Mrs. Koala and Mrs. Grunty joined in. Alone, the little koala started. And if ever you've tried to imagine a teddy bear's picnic, just close your eyes for a moment at present. Turn on the music of that famous melody. And you just can't help seeing them as plain as daylight. The dear little cuddly koas. This happy Dance was the means of many bush friendships being made. And more important still, it was the cause of Mrs. Grunty becoming quite happy and hospitable. Ever after, she and Snubby paid regular visits to Mrs. Koala, while Blinky and Nutsy were overjoyed to have another playmate. The last peep I had of Blinky before I left the bush was to see him instructing Snubby how to use a catapult and Nutsy how to make frogs hop when they didn't want to. If any little child should wish to be the proud owner of a koala, please remember, the kindest action of all would be to leave the koala in their own bushland, among their own playmates, with the sun, the sky, the birds, and the gum trees, where they will grow to adulthood and live for many years, happy as they should be. Dorothy Wall. The End That's the end of Blinky Bill. Thank you for listening to Madame Magpie's bedtime stories. Madame Magpie will be taking a short break while she decides what story she should do next. If you have any ideas, please feel free to get in contact using the link in the episode notes. Patreon billing will be paused while new episodes are not being released. But existing episodes will remain available wherever you get your podcasts. Madam Magpie's bedtime stories will always be available to stream for free. But if you'd like to support the podcast, you can do so via Patreon at patreon.com slash Madam Magpie. That's M-A-D-A-M-E M-A-G-P-I-E. For$3 a month, Patreon members have the option of downloading episodes for offline listening. Blinky Bill was written and illustrated by Dorothy Wall. First published by Angus and Robertson in 1933. Sound effects are from Zapsplat, Epidemic Sound, Pixabay, Soundly, and Dylan Barfield. All images are made by Josh Dyke Graaff using Dorothy Wall's original illustrations. Madame Magpie is a creation of Alex Roberts. Narration and character voices by Alex Roberts. Madame Magpie's bedtime stories are recorded and edited by Alex Roberts, aka Madame Magpie, on the lands of the Wurundjeri and Bunerong peoples of the Kulin Nation. Madame Magpie acknowledges the rich and extensive history of storytelling among Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples and pays her respects to past and present elders of all nations.