hear me?”
Every rat in the cellar turned as one to face the water tank. Brother Brokenbiscuit froze under his paper bag.
“We hear you.”
“You will do as I say!”
“We will do as you say.”
Truda cackled gleefully. “Now, my little ratty friends, listen to me, and listen carefully. I want to be Queen of Wadingburn — and what Truda wants, Truda gets. There’s a party tomorrow, and by the time Bluebell stands to read her declaration, the people of Wadingburn will be begging me to take over, begging on bended knees, ‘Be queen, Truda Hangnail, be queen!’ Crying and weeping and wailing they’ll be, every last king and queen and princess and prince, and why? Because if Bluebell doesn’t declare me rightful queen, then the room, the palace, the kingdom, and the country — will be overrun with rats.” She rubbed her bony hands together. “There’ll be rats in the kitchens, rats in the halls, rats in the bathrooms, rats in the beds. Pick up a saucepan, and what’ll they see?”
“Rats!” The response was unanimous.
“Turn back the bedcovers, and what’ll they see?”
“Rats!”
“Step in the bathtub, and what’ll they find?”
“Rats!”
There was another loud cackle from Truda. “When those pretty princesses go twirling and whirling — what’ll they find hiding under their skirts?”
“RATS!”
“Good, my little scale-tails, good!” Truda’s eyes were gleaming.
Evangeline, overcome with a mixture of terror and horror, could feel the old witch quivering with evil energy. There was a darkness hovering around her that was slowly freezing Evangeline’s heart; when Bodalisk slipped his arm around her, she looked at him gratefully.
“And now, get busy!” Truda leaned forward, and the rats gazed up at her with their strangely blank eyes. “Call your friends and relations, and bring them here. Bring them all, from the highways and byways. Bite and scratch, but make them come. We want every rat in the kingdom sneaking and skulking and hiding in corners, creeping and crawling and lurking in cracks, ready to leap out when I give the signal. And when I’m Queen of Wadingburn, it’ll be parties for you all, each and every one of you — parties and fun every day.” Truda raised her arms in salute. “You will be welcome everywhere. You have the word of Truda Hangnail!”
There was a riot of squeaking and squealing as the rats leaped up and down, cheering and yelling their agreement. Almost before Truda had finished speaking, Brother Bolder and Brother Squint were organizing rats into teams and issuing orders in total harmony with each other. Brother Snirkles hurried to assist them, and even Sister Millifee was seen exhorting her neighbors without so much as a wail.
Truda Hangnail nodded and turned to her companions. “Time to eat and to rest,” she said. “We’ll be busy tomorrow.” And she chuckled unpleasantly before poking a sharp finger into Brother Bodalisk’s back. “I need something to fill my old body.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Bodalisk said obediently. “There’s good pickings to be had in the dairy, ma’am, or you might prefer the kitchen?”
Truda considered the possibilities. “The dairy,” she said. “Kitchens have cooks, and cooks are nasty. Of course, after tomorrow it’ll all be mine, and
I’ll
be telling the cooks what’s what.” She licked her lips in anticipation. “I’ll be ordering cookies and cake and apple pie and cream until their hands drop off with cooking. And I’ll be sitting on my golden throne ordering silks and satins and a diamond crown, and everyone will bow and scrape before they so much as speak to me.” She cracked her knuckles and grinned so terribly that Bodalisk all but jumped off the water tank. “And if they don’t do just as they’re told, then I’ll grow their noses down to their toes. I’ll give them tails with scales and wither their bones. I’ll make them dance to my tune — every minute of every hour of every
Every rat in the cellar turned as one to face the water tank. Brother Brokenbiscuit froze under his paper bag.
“We hear you.”
“You will do as I say!”
“We will do as you say.”
Truda cackled gleefully. “Now, my little ratty friends, listen to me, and listen carefully. I want to be Queen of Wadingburn — and what Truda wants, Truda gets. There’s a party tomorrow, and by the time Bluebell stands to read her declaration, the people of Wadingburn will be begging me to take over, begging on bended knees, ‘Be queen, Truda Hangnail, be queen!’ Crying and weeping and wailing they’ll be, every last king and queen and princess and prince, and why? Because if Bluebell doesn’t declare me rightful queen, then the room, the palace, the kingdom, and the country — will be overrun with rats.” She rubbed her bony hands together. “There’ll be rats in the kitchens, rats in the halls, rats in the bathrooms, rats in the beds. Pick up a saucepan, and what’ll they see?”
“Rats!” The response was unanimous.
“Turn back the bedcovers, and what’ll they see?”
“Rats!”
“Step in the bathtub, and what’ll they find?”
“Rats!”
There was another loud cackle from Truda. “When those pretty princesses go twirling and whirling — what’ll they find hiding under their skirts?”
“RATS!”
“Good, my little scale-tails, good!” Truda’s eyes were gleaming.
Evangeline, overcome with a mixture of terror and horror, could feel the old witch quivering with evil energy. There was a darkness hovering around her that was slowly freezing Evangeline’s heart; when Bodalisk slipped his arm around her, she looked at him gratefully.
“And now, get busy!” Truda leaned forward, and the rats gazed up at her with their strangely blank eyes. “Call your friends and relations, and bring them here. Bring them all, from the highways and byways. Bite and scratch, but make them come. We want every rat in the kingdom sneaking and skulking and hiding in corners, creeping and crawling and lurking in cracks, ready to leap out when I give the signal. And when I’m Queen of Wadingburn, it’ll be parties for you all, each and every one of you — parties and fun every day.” Truda raised her arms in salute. “You will be welcome everywhere. You have the word of Truda Hangnail!”
There was a riot of squeaking and squealing as the rats leaped up and down, cheering and yelling their agreement. Almost before Truda had finished speaking, Brother Bolder and Brother Squint were organizing rats into teams and issuing orders in total harmony with each other. Brother Snirkles hurried to assist them, and even Sister Millifee was seen exhorting her neighbors without so much as a wail.
Truda Hangnail nodded and turned to her companions. “Time to eat and to rest,” she said. “We’ll be busy tomorrow.” And she chuckled unpleasantly before poking a sharp finger into Brother Bodalisk’s back. “I need something to fill my old body.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Bodalisk said obediently. “There’s good pickings to be had in the dairy, ma’am, or you might prefer the kitchen?”
Truda considered the possibilities. “The dairy,” she said. “Kitchens have cooks, and cooks are nasty. Of course, after tomorrow it’ll all be mine, and
I’ll
be telling the cooks what’s what.” She licked her lips in anticipation. “I’ll be ordering cookies and cake and apple pie and cream until their hands drop off with cooking. And I’ll be sitting on my golden throne ordering silks and satins and a diamond crown, and everyone will bow and scrape before they so much as speak to me.” She cracked her knuckles and grinned so terribly that Bodalisk all but jumped off the water tank. “And if they don’t do just as they’re told, then I’ll grow their noses down to their toes. I’ll give them tails with scales and wither their bones. I’ll make them dance to my tune — every minute of every hour of every
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