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Flora carried the picnic
basket over her arm. It was filled with all kinds of goodies. She was glad
that she’d soon be at Mrs. MacBroonie’s house.
When she had woken up that
morning and had gone into the kitchen for breakfast, her mum had told her
that she had an errand she wanted her to run. Flora loved doing errands
for her mum and happily asked what it was. "Mrs. MacBroonie is not feeling
well. She’s very tired. Since she’s not got anyone to help her, I thought
she’d like a basket of her favorite goodies taken to her. You know how
Mrs. MacBroonie loves marmalade and oatcakes," her mum smiled.
"I’ll take them to her Mum.
Will you put them in a picnic basket so I can carry them easily?" Flora
requested.
"Certainly, hen. Now eat
your porridge and I’ll get the basket ready."
Mum looked out the window.
The sky was deep azure blue and there were only a few clouds in the sky.
"Don’t worry about wearing your wellies today, Flora. It doesn’t look like
rain."
Flora was glad. She would
rather wear her leather shoes. It was much easier to run through the
fields of heather than when she wore her rubber wellies. She finished her
porridge and put on her cardigan. It was made from dark purple wool and
had pretty lavender flowers and green stems embroidered on it. "I’m ready,
Mum. I’ll be home in time for tea," Flora said. She picked up the basket
and headed for Mrs. MacBroonie’s house.
She was about halfway there
when she saw a small lamb frolicking through the lavender heather bells.
"Hello there, wee lamb," she said, moving towards it.
The lamb stopped and looked
at her. It went "BAA" and ran over the hill. Flora chased it for a while
but it was just too fast for her. She watched the white wooly lamb until
it was gone out of sight.
She turned and headed back
towards Mrs. MacBroonie’s house. She started to skip, careful not to tip
the basket over. She stopped at a patch of bright lemony-yellow
buttercups. "Oh, they do look like butter," she laughed and picked a few
for Mrs. MacBroonie. "I’ll put them in the basket with the goodies. She’ll
like them.
" When she opened the lid
to put them in, she smelled the aroma of shortbread. "Yummy, shortbread,"
she said, opening the bag. "Maybe I can take just a wee bite." She broke a
piece off and ate it. "That was delicious. I must have another bite." She
broke some more off, and before she knew it, she’d eaten all of the sweet,
buttery shortbread.
"Mrs. MacBroonie won’t miss
it," she whispered. She’s got so many other goodies in here. She brushed
the crumbs off her cardigan and headed towards Mrs. MacBroonie’s house,
forgetting to put the buttercups she’d picked into the basket. The sun was
warm and felt good.
Just then she spotted a
hare. It had long ears and was gray and fluffy. "Oh look! A hare! Come
here, hare. Come and let me pet you," she called to it, but it hopped
away. She reached into the basket and pulled out an oatcake. She held it
in her hand. "Come here, wee hare. Come and have an oatcake." She broke a
piece off and tossed it towards the hare. It hopped closer, then nibbled
it down. She broke off another, and another, until the hare was right in
front of her. It wanted more oatcakes. She fed it every oatcake in the
picnic basket and then it hopped away. Flora looked inside. There was no
more shortbread and no more oatcakes. "Oh well. Mrs. MacBroonie won’t miss
them," she convinced herself, and then headed towards her house.
She could see Mrs.
MacBroonie’s house in the distance. It had smoke rising from the chimney.
Flora knew that she must have been burning peat in the fire. She could
smell the sweet odor. Flora looked down at her feet. One of her shoes was
untied. She stopped and sat on a rock to tie it. She noticed a mouse in
the grass. It was brown and had a wiggly nose and long tail. "Hello there,
wee mouse. You look hungry. Would you like some ginger biscuits?" she
asked.
The mouse stood still,
staring at Flora. She reached into the basket and took out a few ginger
biscuits. She crumbled them up and tossed them on the ground near the
mouse. It ate them up quickly and wanted more. "Hmmm, there are no more
ginger biscuits, wee mouse. Let’s see what else there is." She moved the
marmalade jar and saw an onion and cheese bridie. "Och, aye, wee mouse,
would you like a bridie? You like cheese, but do you like onion?" she
asked as she broke the flaky crust open and threw it to the ground. The
mouse ate it. She threw some more, including the bits of onion and cheese.
The mouse seemed to love it. "Oh, so you do like onion," she giggled. Soon
the mouse had eaten the whole bridie and then it ran away.
Flora finished tying her
shoe. She looked in the basket. There was no shortbread, no oatcakes, no
ginger biscuits and no bridie. All that was in the basket was a jar of
orange marmalade and some treacle toffee. "Oh my. There’s not much left
for Mrs. MacBroonie. I had better hurry there before there’s nothing
left."
Flora ran to Mrs.
MacBroonie’s house and opened the door. "Mrs. MacBroonie. It’s me Flora.
I’ve brought you some goodies."
"I’m in the living room,
Flora. Come in, bairn," she said. Flora carried the basket into the living
room and set it down by Mrs. MacBroonie.
"Here’s some marmalade and
some treacle toffee for you, Mrs. MacBroonie. I’m so sorry. Mum made you
some shortbread and it tasted so good that I ate it all myself. I fed the
oatcakes to a gray hare with long ears, and I fed the ginger biscuits, and
a cheese and onion bridie to a wee mouse that looked hungry. Now all
that’s left is the marmalade and the toffee. Oh no! I forgot the
buttercups too." Flora hung her head low.
Mrs. MacBroonie called to
her, "Come here, lassie. Now, don’t you worry. The marmalade and toffees
will be just fine. I won’t tell your mum. Bring me the basket."
Flora opened it. Mrs.
MacBroonie reached in and pulled out two pieces of toffee. "If you’ll sit
by me and sing songs wi’ me for an hour, I’ll give you this piece of
treacle toffee." She smiled.
Flora was excited. "Thank
you, Mrs. MacBroonie. I’d love to stay and sing with you. I’ll stay till
tea time if you’d like," she giggled.
Mrs. MacBroonie was happy.
She’d rather have Flora stay and sing, and talk with her, than to have all
the goodies. They spent the whole afternoon singing happy songs, talking
about the animals Flora had seen on her way, and how pretty her purple
cardigan was. When it was time to leave, Flora said, "I’ll be back
tomorrow, Mrs. MacBroonie. I promise not to eat your goodies."
"We’ll sing again then,
lassie," Mrs. MacBroonie said.
Flora shut the door and ran
through the heather towards home. She saw lambs playing in the flowers.
She saw the hare hopping around the boulders. "Tomorrow I’ll bring extra,
so you can have something too," she called to them, then skipped merrily
home. |
