Paddington Novels 1-3

Mrs Bird,” he explained.
    Nevertheless, he hurried upstairs to the bathroom. There were several important things to be done before he went out for the day. First of all there was his suitcase to be packed, and then he had to consult his atlas. Paddington was very keen on geography and he was interested in the thought of having a picnic on the river. It sounded most unusual.
     
    “I don’t know why it is,” said Mrs Bird, as she adjusted her hat for what seemed like the fortieth time, “but whenever this family goes anywhere it always takes enough to keep a regiment for a month.”
    The Browns were packed into the car, jogging along the road towards the river. Besides the Browns, Mrs Bird and Paddington, there was the hamper, a gramophone, a pile of records, a number of parcels and some fishing nets – not to mention several sunshades, a tent and a pile of cushions.
    Mrs Brown shifted uncomfortably as sheagreed with Mrs Bird. Paddington’s leather suitcase was sticking in her back and his old hat, which he insisted on wearing in case of sunstroke, kept tickling the side of her face.
    “Is it much farther?” she asked.
    Paddington, who was sitting beside her on the front seat, consulted his map. “I think it’s the next turning on the right,” he announced, following the route with his paw.
    “I do hope so,” said Mrs Brown. They had already taken one wrong turning that morning when Paddington had followed a piece of dried marmalade peel on his map by mistake.
    “Fancy turning right at a piece of dried marmalade peel,” grumbled Mr Brown. “That policeman didn’t like it at all.”
    Anxious to make amends, Paddington stuck his head out of the window and sniffed.
    “I think we must be getting near, Mr Brown,” he called. “I can smell something unusual.”
    “That’s the gas works,” said Mr Brown, following the direction of Paddington’s paw. “The river’s on this side.”
    Just as he spoke they swept round a corner and there, straight in front of them, was a broad expanse of water.
    Paddington’s eyes lit up as they all clambered out of the car and while the others were unloading the supplies he stood on the water’s edge and surveyed the scene. He was most impressed.
    The towpath was crowded with people and there were boats everywhere. Rowing boats, canoes, punts and sailing boats with their white sails billowing in the wind. As he watched, a steamer packed with more people swept by, sending a large wave shooting across the water and causing all the smaller boats to rock. Everyone on board seemed very cheerful and happy and several of them pointed towards Paddington and waved.
    Paddington raised his hat in reply and then turned to the others. “I think I’m going to like the river,” he announced.
    “I do hope so, dear,” said Mrs Brown uneasily. “It is your treat.”
    She looked at the row of boats moored by the landing stage. The day before it had seemed a very good idea of Mr Brown’s to have a picnic on the river. But now they were actually here she had a nasty feeling in the back of her mind and she knew Mrs Bird was feeling the same way. Close to, the boats looked awfully small.
    “Are you sure they’re safe, Henry?” she asked, looking at them nervously.
    “Safe?” echoed Mr Brown, as he led the way on to the landing stage. “Of course they’re safe, Mary. You just leave everything to me.
    “I’ll put you in charge of all the ropes and things, Paddington,” he called. “That means you can steer.”
    “Thank you very much, Mr Brown,” said Paddington, feeling most important. His eyes gleamed with excitement as he climbed into the boat and carefully examined everything with his paws.
    “The boatman’s rather busy,” said Mr Brown, as he helped the others in. “So I said we would shove off by ourselves.”
    “Paddington!” exclaimed Mrs Brown, as she picked Mrs Bird’s best sun hat off the floor of the boat. “ Do mind what you’re doing with that fishing net. You’ll have someone’s head off.”
    “I’m sorry, Mrs Bird,” said Paddington. “I was only testing it.”
    “All right,” said Mr Brown, as he settled himself on his seat and took a firm grip on the oars. “Here we go. Stand by at the helm, Paddington.”
    “Do what, Mr Brown?” cried Paddington.
    “Pull on the ropes,” shouted Mr Brown. “Come on – left paw down.”
    “Oh dear,” said Mrs Bird nervously, as she clutched the side of the boat with one hand and gripped her