Quackers

Lucy jumped out of bed. It was a bright sunny summer's morning. She
dressed quickly and threw back her bedroom curtains. She looked down
onto the garden below.

Lucy rubbed her eyes. She couldn't believe it. For there at the bottom
of the garden was her paddling pool. It was filled with water.

Lucy ran downstairs to find her mother. She could hear her vacuuming
the lounge.

"Mum, mum," Lucy shouted as she threw open the lounge door.

"Ooooh, Lucy," gasped her mother, "you did give me a scare then.
Whatever is the matter? Running about like a chicken that's lost it's
head."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you," apologised Lucy. "But why
is my paddling pool at the bottom of the garden?"

"It's for a little visitor," replied Lucy's mother.

"A visitor. What visitor?" asked Lucy.

"Yesterday, as I was tidying the garden, I saw a movement in the
bushes," started Lucy's mother.

"What was it?" interrupted Lucy excitedly.

"It was a duck," answered her mother.

Lucy jumped up and down. "A DUCK. Can I go and see it mum. Please?"
begged Lucy.

Lucy's mother shook her head. "I'm sorry sweetheart, but no. You might
frighten it. It's very shy, I haven't seen it come out yet. I've only
seen its white and brown feathers through the bushes. That's why I've
put your paddling pool out. I'm hoping to coax it from out of the
bushes. You can help me put some bread down for it, if you want to. But
you must promise to be very quiet."

"I will. I will," promised Lucy.

Lucy went into the kitchen and picked up a tray with some bread in it.
She carried it carefully to the back door.

Lucy and her mother crept down the garden path. Lucy watched whilst her
mother put the bread down beside the paddling pool for the duck.

Lucy tried to catch a glimpse of the duck. But
like her mother, all she could see was the brown and white feathers
through the bushes.

After Lucy had had her breakfast she asked her mother if she could sit
and watch for the duck. Lucy's mother told her that she could watch
from her bedroom window.

Lucy went upstairs to watch and wait. Lucy waited all morning, but the
duck didn't come out. Lucy had her dinner but still the duck didn't
come out. Lucy waited all afternoon. The duck still hadn't come out.
Lucy's father came home from work. Lucy had her tea and the still the
duck didn't come out. All too soon it was Lucy's bedtime, and the duck
was still hiding.

Lucy said goodnight to her mother and father and climbed the stairs to
bed. She was tired with the waiting and watching. She didn't close her
bedroom curtains. With one last look she whispered, "I'll wait for you
tomorrow. Goodnight duck."

The following morning Lucy awoke early. She ran to the window. The
bread was gone! She ran downstairs to tell her mother. No one was
awake. Her mother and father were still fast asleep in bed. Lucy was
disappointed. She wanted to feed the duck. Then she had an idea. She
could take some bread to the duck. As long as she was quiet and didn't
frighten it.

Lucy sliced some bread. She put the bread in the basket. Then she
carried the basket carefully down to the bottom of the garden. She was
just about to put the bread down, when there was a gust of wind.
Something moved in the bushes. Lucy stood perfectly still, hardly
daring to breathe. There was another gust of wind. Again something
moved in the bushes. This time Lucy started to walk backwards. Her foot
caught on the side of the paddling pool.

"Ooooh," squealed Lucy, as she landed with large SPLASH in the
paddling pool.

As Lucy pulled herself up, she peeked over the edge of the pool. She
couldn't believe it. Coming towards her from the bushes was a filthy
brown and white FOOTBALL. Lucy started to laugh. She couldn't stop
laughing. A football, not a duck. Her mother had been feeding a
football.

"Oh dear," muttered Lucy to herself, and started laughing all over
again. Suddenly Lucy's laughter was brought to a halt. Her mother was
shouting to her from the kitchen door.

"Lucy, come in here this instant," she shouted angrily.

A soaking wet Lucy ran up the garden path. When she reached the kitchen
door, her mother looked down at her crossly. "What did I tell you about
frightening the duck?" she demanded.

Lucy couldn't help herself. She started laughing all over again.

"Lucy, what do you find so funny?"

Lucy took her mother's hand and said, "come on I'll show you."
Lucy pulled her mother down the garden path and pointed to the
football. Her mother looked down at the football and frowned.

"Where did that come from?" she asked. "And where has the duck
gone?"

"That is the duck, mum. You've been feeding a filthy brown and white
football, not a duck," giggled Lucy.

"Oh dear. I think it's time I got some glasses," sighed Lucy's mother,
who was now smiling herself.

"Mum," said Lucy.

"Yes, sweetheart," replied her mother.

"You're QUACKERS," said Lucy.

THE END