Free Selby Sorcerer by Duncan Ball Page A

your PPR. It was lovely to meet you — and you, too, Selby,’ he said, giving Selby a secret wink.
    Selby looked back and it was all he could do to keep from saying, ‘Thank goodness, I’m home again.’
    This really is
    The End

SELBY’S SIGHT
    ‘Fetch, Selby, fetch!’ Dr Trifle said, throwing a stick as far as he could. ‘Get it, boy!’
    ‘Not on your life,’ Selby thought as he stared at the stick on the other side of the lawn. ‘What do you take me for, a stick-chasing machine?’
    Dr Trifle threw another stick.
    ‘Why do people do this?’ Selby wondered. ‘I reckon if they want the sticks they shouldn’t throw them away in the first place.’
    ‘Go get it, Selby,’ Dr Trifle said, pointing to the stick. ‘Okay, I’ll throw you another one but I won’t throw it so far this time.’
    ‘I don’t think you’ll ever teach him to chase sticks,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘Selby just isn’t into stick-chasing.’
    ‘Have you ever thought of why he doesn’t like to chase sticks?’
    ‘Maybe he just doesn’t want to.’
    ‘Or maybe he can’t see them properly,’ Dr Trifle said. ‘You think I’m just playing a silly game. But I’m actually testing his eyes.’
    ‘I beg your pardon?’
    ‘Think of all the people who need to wear glasses — like me,’ Dr Trifle said, taking his off for a moment. ‘When I take them off, everything’s blurry. You may not need to wear glasses but I certainly do.’
    ‘So?’
    ‘So animals have eyes too. And I’ll bet that lots of them can’t see properly without glasses.’
    ‘You might be right,’ Mrs Trifle said, ‘but how can you test an animal’s eyes? When they test people’s eyes they ask questions like, “Is this clearer?” and things like that. You can ask Selby questions all day long but he’s not going to answer you.’
    ‘That’s for sure,’ Selby thought.
    ‘I found a way around the asking questions thing,’ Dr Trifle said, tipping a box full of glasses out on the lawn.
    ‘Where did you get these from?’ Mrs Trifle said, picking up a pair and putting them on.
    ‘They’re some of my old ones and the rest I picked up at the used clothing shop.’
    ‘Goodness,’ Mrs Trifle said, taking off the glasses and rubbing her eyes. ‘Now I can’t see! The whole world has turned fuzzy!’
    ‘It’s just a touch of TOG fog.’
    ‘Tog fog? I’ve never heard of tog fog.’
    ‘T-O-G fog.
Trying On Glasses
fog. It’s that blurriness you get from trying on the wrong glasses — or trying them on when you don’t need them. It’ll go away in a minute or two.’
    ‘So how will these glasses tell you about Selby’s eyes?’
    ‘Easy. I try out different pairs on him and throw sticks. When he finally chases after one I’ll know I’ve got the right ones. Watch.’
    Dr Trifle picked up a pair of glasses and put them on Selby.
    ‘Oh, great,’ Selby thought. ‘Now I can’t see anything.’
    ‘Okay, boy,’ Dr Trifle said, throwing another stick. ‘Fetch!’
    ‘Yeah, right,’ Selby thought. ‘And if I do I’ll have to wear these silly things for the rest of my life.’
    Half an hour and a dozen pairs of glasses later, Dr Trifle finally stopped.
    ‘I give up,’ he sighed. ‘No more glasses-trying-on. I’ve had it. Finished. Never again. It’s a pity because you probably need glasses, Selby. If you didn’t, you’d chase sticks like normal dogs. But I don’t think I’ll ever find the right ones for you.’
    ‘I wish you could find something for the headache all those glasses gave me,’ Selby thought as he stumbled into the house. ‘I can hardly see because of the TOG fog.’
    Selby lay on the carpet rubbing his eyes as Dr Trifle put away the box of glasses.
    That evening Selby was alone. He was just waiting for
Roxanna the Sorcerer
to come on TV when he looked up at the box of glasses on a shelf above him.
    ‘There is something nice about glasses,’ he thought. ‘They make people look interesting — and smart.’
    Selby climbed