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Dopey David, Part 2

David picked up his roast, laid it on the table and said, "Now, I'll go and fetch the wine!" He went back to the cellar . which was flooded with the wine that had poured out of the barrel. "Good gracious!" gasped David. "What am I to do now?" He didn't dare go in, for before him stretched a lake of red wine. "I'll have to mop it all up," muttered David to himself, "but how? I could go into the yard and get some sacks of sand, bring them into the cellar and scatter the sand over the floor . But that's much too hard work. I'd better think of something else, now then . ." Seated on the bottom step, his elbows on his knees, holding his head in his hands, the lad tried to think of a good idea. It really was an alarming situation: there were nearly six inches of wine all over the floor and in it floated corks, bottles and bits of wood.

"I've got it!" David suddenly exclaimed. He picked up one of the bags lying on a table, opened it, and started to scatter all the flour it contained. "Splendid! The flour will absorb the wine and I can walk about the cellar without wetting my feet," he cried. In no time at all, he had spread not one but five bags of good flour on the floor. In the end, the floor was covered with a wine-coloured, soft, sticky paste, and as he walked on it, it stuck to his shoes. David went to get the jug he had filled and carried it in great delight back to the table, leaving red footprints everywhere.

"Mum's going to be really pleased," he said. Nevertheless, when he thought of all the mess he had made, he began to fear a scolding and maybe punishment too. "Never mind," he said, "I'll drink the poison and die!" So he went to the cupboard and picked up the jar. He thought the poison would be a black liquid, but the jar contained a red cream. He picked up a spoon and said, "I'll eat it then instead of drinking it." Just as he was about to take his first spoonful, he realized how silly he was. Nobody should ever eat poison, not even when your name is Dopey David. Instead, he decided to hide from his mother so that she would not be able to punish him.

A quarter of an hour later, his mother returned. When she saw the overturned furniture, the broken plates and the red footprints, she got a fright and cried, "David! What has happened? Where are you? Answer me!" There was no reply, but she suddenly noticed a pair of legs sticking out of the oven. "I'm not surprised you are hiding from me, David, after causing all this mess," she said. "Well, while I am clearing up after you, you can take this roll of cloth to the market and try and sell it for a good price." And she handed the boy a roll of cloth as she spoke.

"Oh, I will," said David. "Leave it to me!" When he got to market, David began to shout, "Cloth! Who'll buy this lovely cloth?" Several women came over and asked him, "What kind of cloth is it? Is it soft? Is it hard-wearing? Is it dear? How long is it? How much does it cost?" David exclaimed: "You talk too much, and I don't sell things to chatterboxes," and off he went.

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David picked up his roast, laid it on the table and said, "Now, I'll go and fetch the wine!" He went back to the cellar . . . which was flooded with the wine that had poured out of the barrel. "Good gracious!" gasped David. "What am I to do now?" He didn't dare go in, for before him stretched a lake of red wine.

"I'll have to mop it all up," muttered David to himself, "but how? I could go into the yard and get some sacks of sand, bring them into the cellar and scatter the sand over the floor . . . But that's much too hard work. I'd better think of something else, now then . . ." Seated on the bottom step, his elbows on his knees, holding his head in his hands, the lad tried to think of a good idea. It really was an alarming situation: there were nearly six inches of wine all over the floor and in it floated corks, bottles and bits of wood.

"I've got it!" David suddenly exclaimed. He picked up one of the bags lying on a table, opened it, and started to scatter all the flour it contained. "Splendid! The flour will absorb the wine and I can walk about the cellar without wetting my feet," he cried.

In no time at all, he had spread not one but five bags of good flour on the floor. In the end, the floor was covered with a wine-coloured, soft, sticky paste, and as he walked on it, it stuck to his shoes. David went to get the jug he had filled and carried it in great delight back to the table, leaving red footprints everywhere.

"Mum's going to be really pleased," he said. Nevertheless, when he thought of all the mess he had made, he began to fear a scolding and maybe punishment too. "Never mind," he said, "I'll drink the poison and die!" So he went to the cupboard and picked up the jar. He thought the poison would be a black liquid, but the jar contained a red cream. He picked up a spoon and said, "I'll eat it then instead of drinking it."

Just as he was about to take his first spoonful, he realized how silly he was. Nobody should ever eat poison, not even when your name is Dopey David. Instead, he decided to hide from his mother so that she would not be able to punish him.

A quarter of an hour later, his mother returned. When she saw the overturned furniture, the broken plates and the red footprints, she got a fright and cried, "David! What has happened? Where are you? Answer me!"

There was no reply, but she suddenly noticed a pair of legs sticking out of the oven. "I'm not surprised you are hiding from me, David, after causing all this mess," she said. "Well, while I am clearing up after you, you can take this roll of cloth to the market and try and sell it for a good price." And she handed the boy a roll of cloth as she spoke.

"Oh, I will," said David. "Leave it to me!"

When he got to market, David began to shout, "Cloth! Who'll buy this lovely cloth?" Several women came over and asked him, "What kind of cloth is it? Is it soft? Is it hard-wearing? Is it dear? How long is it? How much does it cost?" David exclaimed: "You talk too much, and I don't sell things to chatterboxes," and off he went.