Today Mrs. Jumble was baking cakes.
‘Jumble dear, where are you? I’m baking cakes today and I just don’t seem to have enough sugar. Will you run to the grocer’s store and buy an ounce of ground sugar for me please?’
Mr. Jumble was fast asleep in his arm chair in front of the fire.
‘Jumble. Jumble?’ Mrs. Jumble cried when she saw that her husband was asleep on the chair.
Mr. Jumble woke up with a jump. ‘Err… what did you say dear? I wasn’t asleep. I just couldn’t hear you. I was meditating you see and…’
‘Who said you weren’t asleep? I don’t mind you going to sleep but you shouldn’t tell me lies. I want you to buy me some sugar from the grocer. One ounce please. And if they don’t have any, walk along to the farm and ask Mrs. Straw if you can take some sugarcane from her field. I can even use the juice of the sugarcane.’
‘Yes dear,’ yawned Mr. Jumble who was almost asleep again with this long speech of Mrs. Jumble. He got out of his chair, looked out of the window and shivered. ‘It seems a windy day out there.’ Mrs. Jumble ignored him and pushed him out of the door, bundling his coat and scarf into his arms for company.
He walked along, whistling cheerily until he saw that the grocer’s store was shut because it was early closing day.
‘Now I have to go to the farm’ grumbled Mr. Jumble. ‘And it is completely in the other direction!’
The farm was not really far away but Mr. Jumble was simply too sleepy. After a fifteen minutes walk, he reached the farm and met Mr. Straw the farmer. ‘Hello there Jumble. How might you be?’
Mr. Jumble replied ‘I’m fine, thank you. Mrs. Jumble just sent me along to fetch some fresh sugarcane. Do you have any?’
‘Of course I do. Go to that big barn over there and you will see a huge heap of it. Help yourself.’
‘Thanks a ton,’ said Mr. Jumble. So he hurried over to the barn and saw huge two piles in the darkness. ‘By golly! Mr. Straw certainly got a fine harvest this time!’ he went over to one pile and carefully felt for the smoothest canes. As soon as he was sure he had enough to please his missus, he walked out his hands full.
The farmer was down in the field and Mr. Jumble yelled out his thanks. Then he went home. He gave his wife the sugarcane and with a contented sigh, went right back to sleep in his comfy arm chair.
Soon there was a delicious smell of cakes and baked goodies wafting down into the living room. An hour later, Mrs. Jumble bustled into the living room and groaned at the sight of her snoring husband.
‘Jumble. JUMBLE! You are sleeping again aren’t you? Mr. and Mrs. Straw have come to tea and I’m serving them my home made cakes. If you want any come at once!!!’
Mr. Jumble leapt out of his chair in fright and meekly ran past his wife into the dining room, saying ‘Of course I want your cakes. I did help after all with getting the sugar!’
Mrs. Jumble sat down at her place after pouring a final cup of tea for Mr. Jumble. Then they all bit into their cakes. Mrs. Straw spat her’s out at once, saying sorry if it seemed rude but the cakes were just too bitter! The Mr. Jumble did the same saying, ‘Didn’t I bring you enough sugar cane?’
‘Bamboo or sugar cane I’d like to know!’ said Mr. Straw pulling some squeezed bamboo out of the kitchen bin.
Before anyone could say anything more Mr. Jumble fled out of the house and into the dark evening.
‘It’ll be some time before I see him again…’ said Mrs. Jumble, gritting her teeth.