that?”
“Why?” said Von Barlow. “Well, you will get a nice plaque on the wall at the zoo!”
“We get our names on a
plaque
?!” said Ellen. “Let me get this straight—we give you our animals for free, and you get famous and get your name in journals and get a
building
dedicated to you, and all we get is a measly
plaque
?”
“Well, yes!” said the zoologist. “You should seethem. They’re really quite lovely. Very nicely engraved!”
Dr. Von Barlow picked up the Fuddleflinger and reaffixed its muzzle. While Edgar’s pasty complexion was turning an angry red at the prospect of another lost sale, Ellen grabbed a mallet from the depths of her brother’s satchel and raised it up over her head.
The twins faced each other, Ellen swinging the mallet madly and both hopping from foot to foot. Slightly beyond earshot of Von Barlow, in hushed voices they chanted:
“Von Barlow thinks he knows his stuff
We two are here to call his bluff
These animals are rare enough
To make his reputation.
But we won’t give these beasts away
If he wants fame he’ll have to pay
We’re through with cheapskates for today
Here comes some compensation!”
The zoologist was lucky, because as Ellen readied her swing, a flashy red fire truck with a big gold “7” painted on the door pulled up in front of their wagon.
22. Lucky Engine Number 7
“What’s all this?” shouted one of the firefighters hanging on the back of the truck.
“Oh, it’s a fantastic collection of rare and exotic animals,” said Dr. Von Barlow, looking up, “Absolutely inspiring…”
“Well now, Doctor, have you found the python?” called out the driver.
“Oh, yes, the python,” the zoologist said. “I’d rather forgotten about
that
….”
The firefighters climbed off the truck. One of them tilted her helmet back and said, “We haven’t had much luck on the snake hunt, either. Lucky Engine Number 7 isn’t too lucky today.”
“Dreadful,” muttered Von Barlow.
“Yeah, Doc, we’re starting to get worried. Having that snake on the loose, well, that’s
bad
. All those poor kids, you really feel for ’em, you know? Their little pets, stuffed down in some huge, slimy reptile’s belly.”
Edgar and Ellen listened with interest.
“Things could get
real
sticky. Word has leaked to the press about this snake situation, and you know those reporters when it comes to something like this! It’ll be all over the headlines by tonight. We could have a full-scale panic on our hands!”
The twins whispered to each other.
“Did you hear that, Brother? A panic! That means everyone will be running and screaming in the streets, right?”
“The whole town, Sister! The whole town will be in a snit! I think that might be a record for us!”
Just then Sparkplug, the dalmatian mascot for Lucky Engine Number 7, leapt down from the truck and bounded toward the cart. Edgar and Ellen watched with horror as the firehouse dog nosed around the animals, sniffing and grunting and slobbering. Disturbed, the beasts began to strain against their leashes.
“NO!” yelled the twins, leaping at Sparkplug.
Ellen grabbed the dog’s collar, trying to pull her head back. Edgar wrapped his arms around the dog’s body to drag her away from the cart. But Sparkplug was big and strong, and the twins didn’t have much success. Fortunately, the dog got a noseful of glitter, which made her sneeze loudly and uncontrollably.
“Sparkplug!”
A firefighter called the dog, who dropped her head and slunk back to the truck, letting loose a few glittery sneezes as she went.
Edgar sighed in relief, but just as Ellen was launching into a sales pitch to convince the fire department to purchase a more exotic mascot, a fleet of bicycles appeared, speeding down Florence Boulevard.
23. The Search Party
Suddenly, the area around the ExoticAnimal Emporium became very crowded as a pack of neighborhood children pulled up.
With eyes red and puffy from hours of crying,
“Why?” said Von Barlow. “Well, you will get a nice plaque on the wall at the zoo!”
“We get our names on a
plaque
?!” said Ellen. “Let me get this straight—we give you our animals for free, and you get famous and get your name in journals and get a
building
dedicated to you, and all we get is a measly
plaque
?”
“Well, yes!” said the zoologist. “You should seethem. They’re really quite lovely. Very nicely engraved!”
Dr. Von Barlow picked up the Fuddleflinger and reaffixed its muzzle. While Edgar’s pasty complexion was turning an angry red at the prospect of another lost sale, Ellen grabbed a mallet from the depths of her brother’s satchel and raised it up over her head.
The twins faced each other, Ellen swinging the mallet madly and both hopping from foot to foot. Slightly beyond earshot of Von Barlow, in hushed voices they chanted:
“Von Barlow thinks he knows his stuff
We two are here to call his bluff
These animals are rare enough
To make his reputation.
But we won’t give these beasts away
If he wants fame he’ll have to pay
We’re through with cheapskates for today
Here comes some compensation!”
The zoologist was lucky, because as Ellen readied her swing, a flashy red fire truck with a big gold “7” painted on the door pulled up in front of their wagon.
22. Lucky Engine Number 7
“What’s all this?” shouted one of the firefighters hanging on the back of the truck.
“Oh, it’s a fantastic collection of rare and exotic animals,” said Dr. Von Barlow, looking up, “Absolutely inspiring…”
“Well now, Doctor, have you found the python?” called out the driver.
“Oh, yes, the python,” the zoologist said. “I’d rather forgotten about
that
….”
The firefighters climbed off the truck. One of them tilted her helmet back and said, “We haven’t had much luck on the snake hunt, either. Lucky Engine Number 7 isn’t too lucky today.”
“Dreadful,” muttered Von Barlow.
“Yeah, Doc, we’re starting to get worried. Having that snake on the loose, well, that’s
bad
. All those poor kids, you really feel for ’em, you know? Their little pets, stuffed down in some huge, slimy reptile’s belly.”
Edgar and Ellen listened with interest.
“Things could get
real
sticky. Word has leaked to the press about this snake situation, and you know those reporters when it comes to something like this! It’ll be all over the headlines by tonight. We could have a full-scale panic on our hands!”
The twins whispered to each other.
“Did you hear that, Brother? A panic! That means everyone will be running and screaming in the streets, right?”
“The whole town, Sister! The whole town will be in a snit! I think that might be a record for us!”
Just then Sparkplug, the dalmatian mascot for Lucky Engine Number 7, leapt down from the truck and bounded toward the cart. Edgar and Ellen watched with horror as the firehouse dog nosed around the animals, sniffing and grunting and slobbering. Disturbed, the beasts began to strain against their leashes.
“NO!” yelled the twins, leaping at Sparkplug.
Ellen grabbed the dog’s collar, trying to pull her head back. Edgar wrapped his arms around the dog’s body to drag her away from the cart. But Sparkplug was big and strong, and the twins didn’t have much success. Fortunately, the dog got a noseful of glitter, which made her sneeze loudly and uncontrollably.
“Sparkplug!”
A firefighter called the dog, who dropped her head and slunk back to the truck, letting loose a few glittery sneezes as she went.
Edgar sighed in relief, but just as Ellen was launching into a sales pitch to convince the fire department to purchase a more exotic mascot, a fleet of bicycles appeared, speeding down Florence Boulevard.
23. The Search Party
Suddenly, the area around the ExoticAnimal Emporium became very crowded as a pack of neighborhood children pulled up.
With eyes red and puffy from hours of crying,
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