Free The Wombles to the Rescue by Elisabeth Beresford

not oil rigging or anything else for an hour or two. Golf.’
    â€˜Yes, yes, yes. Off you go and play at least three rounds. You deserve it. Thank you, Tomsk.’
    â€˜ Three rounds! Yes, Tobermory. Not at all,’ said Tomsk who hadn’t the least idea what he was being thanked for. First you were in trouble and then you were out of it. It was all most confusing and he’d better disappear fast before his luck changed yet again.
    So Tomsk disappeared with Tobermory’s following words ringing in his ears, ‘And send Shansi here as quickly as you can. She writes a neat hand. Hurry up.’
    â€˜You’re wanted,’ said Tomsk, his golf clubs already over his shoulder, as he put his head round the Playroom door.
    Shansi, who was sitting at a table in the corner with some plastic cups, little dishes of paints and some brushes in front of her, said, ‘Please who wants Shansi, where?’
    â€˜Tobermory. Workshop. Quick,’ said Tomsk and was gone.
    Shansi neatly put her things away and went.
    An hour later, Alderney, quite bursting with curiosity, was called for again on the inter-burrow-phone and asked to bring four snack lunches to the Workshop.
    â€˜What is going on I ask myself,’ muttered Madame Cholet. ‘Why can’t they eat like other decent Wombles at the correct time at the correct place. What do they think this burrow is, a hotel?’
    Alderney thought it best not to answer and Madame Cholet continued to grumble as she dished up four absolutely delicious helpings of dandelion and bark pie (with a touch of moss garlic) followed by oak-apple jelly with daisy cream. It was just as well she didn’t see how this tasty meal was eaten, because for once the four Wombles concerned were actually thinking of work more than they were of food. All the food went, of course, but it was eaten in gulps, with forks and spoons being waved around as they all, or at least three of them, talked with their mouths full. Madame Cholet would have been horrified, but luckily she was busy dishing out lunch for all the other Wombles, so she never had a moment to look round the Workshop door at what was going on.
    A great deal was going on too. There were papers everywhere and bits of cardboard were pinned up on the shelves and being drawn over. In fact, paper was being used up at a rate which would have really distressed Miss Adelaide. But fortunately she was clearing up the Womblegarten and getting it ready for the afternoon’s paw-craft lesson, and so was much too busy to put her head round the door.
    In one corner Shansi, with her little pink tongue stuck out of one corner of her mouth, was writing in a notebook as fast as she could go. Flip, flip, flip went the pages as Tobermory told her what to write. She was too busy to wonder what was going on until later in the afternoon when Tobermory gave her quite a different sort of job to do.
    And part of the result of all this activity was that just before supper time two beautifully written notices were pinned up on the corridor side of the Workshop door. The first one was headed:
    .
    S PECIAL P ROJECT :
    U NDERWATER F ARMING :
    A LL THOSE WOMBLES INTERESTED IN JOINING THIS PROJECT SHOULD SEE C OUSIN B OTANY AT 8 P.M. IN THE P LAYROOM THIS EVENING .
    .
    And the second one was headed:
    .
    E MERGENCY !
    S PECIAL AND EXTRA WOMBLE TIDY GROUPS NEEDED . A LL THOSE INTERESTED IN SPECIAL DUTIES SHOULD SEE T OBERMORY AT 8 P.M. IN THE W ORKSHOP THIS EVENING .
    .
    â€˜There,’ said Tobermory. ‘That should get the ball rolling, I think.’

.

    Chapter 8
    Miss Adelaide Puts Her Foot Down
    The burrow was soon absolutely buzzing with activity, with Wombles scurrying about in all directions. Tobermory had been quite right, twice over. The ball was definitely rolling and all the quarrelling and fighting had stopped as if by magic. Of course, Orinoco volunteered to help Cousin Botany, and he was so relieved that he wasn’t going to be