Jasper and the Green Marvel by Deirdre Madden Page A

up with the sheets of the newspaper.
    ‘Professor Orchid, this is outrageous! What on earth is happening? My nose, my poor nose.’
    ‘The bat did it!’ Jasper screamed. ‘It’s all the bat’s fault!’
    ‘I’m sure Mummy’s little darling wasn’t to blame at all.’
    And in the mad confusion that followed, Jasper didn’t notice that the rats had slipped quietly out of his pocket and scampered off.

17 How Do We Get There?
    They ran and ran as fast as they could, off down the gravel path and round the side of the house, where they stopped for a moment.
    ‘Do you think he saw us?’ Rags said, gasping for breath.
    ‘No, but he’ll soon notice that we’re gone. Let’s get to that folly thing.’
    Nelly and Georgiana had given them directions: at the back of the house turn right, away from the kitchen garden. Go straight along until you come to the greenhouse, and then turn left. Go straight on, turn left again at the big oak and after a short while they wouldsee the folly before them. They were good clear directions, and before long the two rats saw in the distance a small building of grey stone. It was circular, with pillars all around it and a domed roof. It was exactly as it had been described to them.
    ‘That’s it! That’s the folly!’ Bags said excitedly. But as they got closer they realised to their dismay that Nelly and Georgiana had left out one significant detail.
    The folly stood on an island in the middle of a small lake.
    ‘Oh no! Now what are we to do?’ They stared across the water in silence for a few moments and then Rags said stoutly, ‘Well, I’m not giving up. We’re just going to have to find a way of getting there.’
    They talked for quite some time about making a little boat or a raft. They looked around and found a few pieces of wood, but they were all too small.
    ‘There’s nothing else for it. We’re going tohave to swim.’
    ‘Do we know how to?’ Rags asked. ‘I don’t know if I can. I’ve never tried.’
    ‘Swim? Of course we can swim. We’re rats, after all. Have you forgotten about Great-Great-Great-Uncle Dinny?’
    Although Rags and Bags were prison rats, as were their mum and dad and grannies and grandads, there had been lots of stories in the family about other rats, cousins and aunties and great-uncles, who had led quite different lives. There was cousin Joey, whose home had been in a flour mill, and who had lived the kind of life the prison rats could only dream about. All the grain he could eat! Great shiny golden heaps of wheat! He would eat his bellyful as often as he wanted, and then sleep it off in the sun beside the mill-race, as the water tumbled over the mill-wheel.
    But more legendary still had been Great-Great-Great-Uncle Dinny, who had lived many years ago on a trade-ship. He wore asmall gold ear-ring, they had been told, and he had tattoos on both forepaws, one of an anchor and one of a heart with the word MUM in it. He ate oranges and spices every day, and at night he slept curled up in bales of coloured silk.
    Then the day came when his ship was attacked by pirates. A cannon ball blew a hole in the side of the ship and the sea poured in. So what did Great-Great-Great-Uncle Dinny do? He immediately became the Rat Who Deserted the Sinking Ship. Amidst all the shouting of the crew, the smoke and the gushing of the water, he hopped over the side without so much as a backward glance, and started swimming. He swam and he swam for days, until he came to a tropical island. ‘I was getting tired of life at sea anyway,’ he said to himself, as he plodded up the hot white sand. There were coconut groves on the island, and banana trees and pineapples, and Dinny had lived there happily ever after. Rags and Bags’mum had told them this story so many times when they were small rats. They thought of it now as they stared at the grey water of the lake.
    ‘He swam for days,’ Bags said. ‘Days and days.’
    ‘Maybe it wasn’t true.’
    ‘Rags! How can