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Elphinstone Kist   Stories for Bairns

The Tale o the Bobbydazzler     by: Blackhall, Sheena

Johnny Cassidy zippit up his bag, redd up his desk, an ruggit on his jaiket tae gyang hame. Mrs Scott his teacher wis leavin the morn, an aabody wis giein her gifties. Geordie Bruce telt them aa aboot his present at brakk time.
‘I'm giein her a boxie o sweeties wi traicily intimmers,'he braggit.
‘It'll nae be as guid's mine,’ quo Maisie Higgins. ‘I'm giein her a pyock o
talcum pooder an soap.'
'Div ye think Mrs Scott needs a wash?’ speired Geordie Bruce. He didna
like Maisie. She bett her nails an pickit the bogies frae her snoot, an dichtit
them on the legs o the cheer she wis sittin on.

'I's warrant Mrs Scott's on a diet,' Maisie snappit. 'She'll nae be sikkin yer
fooshty chocolates. Aabody kens yer granny wun them in last year's Xmas
raffle. Fit are YOU giein Mrs Scott, Johnny?’
Jolinny gaed reid. Afore he cud spikk, the bussie arrived.
Fit the sorra WIS he gaun tae gie Mrs Scott? It wis vexxin, richt eneuch.
Fin he wun hame, he tuik doon his bankie an cowped it upside doon. Ten
pence an a drawin preen fell oot. Yon widna even buy a caird, let alane a
present. Syne he turned oot his brikk pooches. Ane hid a teir in it, bit the
ither hid a puckle interestin ferlies. There wis a manglit beetle, bit thon wis
nae eese. Maisie Higgins hid skirled at yon, an sae wad Mrs Scott. Johnny
sighed an owerluikit the lave o his trock. It wisna verra promisin ... an auld
rubber, a daud o towe, a caimb wi hauf its teeth tint. He wippit it roon wi
paper an bummed a tune on't like his granny hid shown him.

Syne Johnny kent fit he'd gie Mrs Scott! Mrs Scott wis awfa fond o music.
Fin she wis in a guid humour, she aften played them a tune on her pianie. Her fingers flew up n' doon the keyboord like a hail o explodin orange peel. Her
nails war the same colour's her lipstick, affa bricht n' skyrie. John wad makk
her a Junk Jangle!

Granny gied him a coat hinger, a speen, an some towe, an he wannert inno
the gairden shed tae gaither thinggies fur it. First, he wippit on a wee tinnie.
It made a sherp ting. Neist, he addit an auld cat's bell–it made a heich jinglin
soun. Yon wis wippit on anna. He strung on a speen, a stick, an the tap o
granny's tea caddy, an syne as it wis growin wechty, he stoppit. Last ava he
peintit it aa reid tae makk it bonnie.

Neist foreneen, aabody breenged inno the class fur Mrs Scott's last day. ‘Mrs Scott,' quo Geordie Bruce, 'Here's a giftie frae me." An he haundit ower a boxie o sweeties.
''Mrs Scott',quo Maisie, "Here's mine.' An she gaed Mrs Scott the talc an
soap.
A boorich o ither bairns haundit ower a mixter–maxter o ferlies.
'Thon's richt kind o ye,’ quo Mrs Scott, 'Bit we mauna devaul. We've a heeze
o sums tae win throw this foreneen.'

Aabody groaned as Mrs Scott pit up a kirn o sums on the blackboard. On her
last day, tee! Johnny lowpit tae his feet an ran oot tae gie her HIS giftie, the
reid junk-jangle. Efter yon, there wis nae mair wird o sums. Mrs Scott wis
delichtit wi the junk jangle.
'It's a bobbydazzler,' quo she. She rubbit out the sums frae the boord an
screived up a pucklie sangs.

'Johnny,' fuspered Maisie Higgins, affa impressed, ''Mrs Scott's richt. Yon
giftie is a bobbydazzler.'
An tho he didna say so oot lood, Johnny hid tae agree she wis richt!



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