Paddington Novels 1-3

snowballs?”
    “Snowballs?” repeated Paddington, hurriedly putting his paw behind his back. “Did you say snowballs, Mr Curry?”
    “Yes,” said Mr Curry. “ Snowballs! A largeone came through my bedroom window a moment ago and landed right in the middle of my bed. Now it’s all melted on my hot-water bottle! If I thought you had done it on purpose, bear…”

    “Oh no, Mr Curry,” said Paddington, earnestly. “I wouldn’t do a thing like that on purpose. I don’t think I could. It’s difficult throwing snowballs by paw – especially big ones like that.”
    “Like what?” asked Mr Curry, suspiciously.
    “Like the one you said landed in your bed,” said Paddington sounding rather confused. He was beginning to wish Mr Curry would hurry up and go. The snowball was making his paw very cold.
    “Mmm,” said Mr Curry. “Well, I’m not standing out here in the snow discussing bears’ pranks. I came downstairs intending to tell you off.” He looked round approvingly at the clean pavement. “But I must admit I’ve been pleasantly surprised. In fact,” he turned to go back indoors, “if you make as good a job of the rest I might even give you ten pence!
    “Between you,” he added, in case they mistook his meaning.
    “Ten pence!” exclaimed Jonathan disgustedly. “One measly ten-penny piece.”
    “Oh well,” said Judy, “at least we’ve done our good deed for the day. It should last for a while – even with Mr Curry.”
    Paddington looked doubtful. “I don’t think it’ll last very long,” he said, listening hard. “In fact, I think it’s nearly over.” Even as he spoke there came a roar of rage from Mr Curry followed by several loud bangs.
    “Whatever’s up now?” exclaimed Judy. “That sounds like Mr Curry banging on hisback door.”
    “I thought I was doing him a good turn,” said Paddington, looking very worried, “so I shut it. I think he must be locked out.”
    “Oh gosh, Paddington,” groaned Judy. “You are an unlucky bear today.”
    “Who shut my door?” roared Mr Curry as he strode round to the front again. “Who locked me out of my house? Bear!” he barked. “Where are you, bear?”
    Mr Curry glared down the road but there was not a soul in sight. If he had been a little less cross, he might have noticed three distinct sets of pawprints and footprints where Paddington, Jonathan, and Judy had beaten a hasty retreat.
    After a distance the three tracks separated. Jonathan’s and Judy’s disappeared into the Browns’ house. Paddington’s went towards the market.
    He had seen quite enough of Mr Curry for one day. Besides, it had gone half past ten and he had promised to meet Mr Gruber for morning cocoa at eleven.
     
    “I really think Mr Curry has gone a bit funny in the head,” said Mrs Brown, later that day. “He was standing outside the house in hispyjamas and dressing gown this morning – in all that snow. Then he started running around in circles waving his fist.”
    “Mmm,” replied Mrs Bird, “I saw Paddington playing snowballs in his back garden just before that happened.”
    “Oh dear,” said Mrs Brown. She looked out of the window. The sky had cleared at last and the garden, with all the trees bowed down under the weight of snow, looked just like a Christmas card. “It seems very still,” she said. “Almost as if something was about to happen.”
    Mrs Bird followed her gaze. “They’ve made a wonderful snowman. I’ve never seen quite such a good one before. It’s only small but it looks most life-like.”
    “Isn’t that Paddington’s old hat they’ve put on top?” asked Mrs Brown. She looked round as the door opened and Jonathan and Judy entered the room. “We were just saying,” she continued, “what a lovely snowman you’ve made.”
    “It isn’t a snowman,” said Jonathan mysteriously. “It’s a snowbear. It’s meant to be a surprise for Dad. He’s coming down the road now.”
    “It looks as if he’ll have more than one surprise coming his way,” said Mrs Bird. “I cansee Mr Curry waiting for him by the fence.”
    “Oh crikey,” groaned Jonathan. “That’s torn it.”
    “Trust Mr Curry to spoil things,” said Judy. “I hope he doesn’t keep Dad talking too long.”
    “Why, dear?” asked Mrs Brown. “Does it matter?”
    “Does it matter?” cried Jonathan, rushing to the window. “I’ll say it does!”
    Mrs Brown didn’t pursue the subject. She had no doubt she would hear all about it in due