The Story of Gurdel Gurdel

Mother Thippermill started collecting babies quite a long time ago. Before any of you children were ever born, that is for certain. It all began one day when Mother Thippermill heard a baby's shriek while resting in the Town Square. Mother Thippermill had just returned from the farmer's market, which she visited punctually every morning, just as the sun began peeking through the horizon. She was resting near the Founder's statue on a nice, firm wooden bench. She was slightly cross at not having found one item — not even a nice orange or carrot or a sprig of parsley — that was to her liking. Holding her empty basket in her lap, she made clucking noises with her tongue. This was what she did whenever she was cross or worried.

"Imagine! Not being able to find even one sprig of parsley that wasn't already wilted!" She shook her head several times. The sky began to darken, and when Mother Thippermill looked up, she saw a black cloud as big as the sky itself, looming above her very own head. She wrapped her shawl tightly around her plump body.

"It looks like it's about to rain cats and dogs. I'd better dash home before I get soaked to my very bones!"

She got up from the bench, ready to scamper quickly home, when she heard the baby's shriek.

"My heavens! A baby? Here?"

She looked around and saw no one, not even a baby.

"Maybe it wasn't a baby," she thought. "Maybe what I heard was thunder. Oh, my! Rain and thunder! I must get home before lightning strikes me dead!"

She took two steps in the direction of her home when she heard that strange shrieking noise again.

"It is a baby!"

Mother Thippermill cupped her hand to her mouth and shouted out, "I don't have time to play games!" she said. "If you are a baby and not the devil, speak up so I can find you!"

The baby must have understood what old Mother Thippermill was shouting, because, this time, it wailed. Again and again. Mother Thippermill looked around and around. She saw nothing. The baby continued to wail. Mother Thippermill continued to search. At last, Mother Thippermill found the baby. It was underneath the very bench she had been sitting on.

"What are you doing here, you silly thing? And at a time like this? Don't you know there's a storm brewing, right over the top of our heads?"

She picked up the baby which was wrapped only in rags. Mother Thippermill carefully put it in her basket, and took it home with her. No one ever came to claim the baby, so Mother Thippermill decided to raise the baby herself. But this was only the beginning. Before you knew it, two, three, four more babies had been added to Mother Thippermill's household. Word had gotten out that Mother Thippermill was now a collector of babies. If anyone found a chubby-faced baby, the baby could be taken to Mother Thippermill's house, where it would grow up to be a neatly-dressed, well-mannered, happy child. Soon there were so many children that no one could remember all their names. No one that is except for Mother Thippermill. She cared and loved for them all.

And that leads us to how a certain horrible baby found its way to Mother Thippermill. No one, of course, knew that this baby would cause so much horror for Mother Thippermill and the other children. The woodcutter had found it in the middle of the woods, naked in a pile of leaves. He brought it to Mother Thippermill, who wrapped it in a nice woolen blanket and gave it some milk to drink.

"A real ugly thing, that baby," the woodcutter said to Mother Thippermill as she cuddled it in her arms.

"Some babies start out ugly, but grow into beautiful children. I've seen it happen many times."

Mother Thippermill cooed at the baby. The baby burped and spat up some black saliva.

There was something very strange about that baby. For one thing, he did not like milk. And even stranger, he never cried, but made peculiar noises that sounded like gurdel, gurdel. Because of this, all the children called him Gurdel Gurdel.

Unfortunately, Mother Thippermill had been wrong about Gurdel Gurdel's appearance. As Gurdel Gurdel grew up, he became uglier and uglier. He was a short, squat, pig-faced little boy with stubby, thick hair growing out of his ears and nose. His finger nails were pointed and sharp. And he did not smell like a normal child. While other children smelled as sweet as milk and roses, Gurdel Gurdel smelled like salamanders and frogs fresh from slimy waters. He never played with the other children. He liked to sit alone, plucking the wings off of flies and bees. Sometimes he would eat them. The other children were afraid of him.

One day, Little Anthony, who was only four years old, sat near a big cherry tree, eating a freshly-baked gingerbread man. He chewed off each piece very slowly to savor that wonderful sweet, tangy ginger taste. The gingerbread man gave off a heavenly scent.

Not far away was Gurdel Gurdel. He too was smelling something very special. But it was not the gingerbread man he was smelling. He was smelling the aroma of Little Anthony. For the first time in his short life, Gurdel Gurdel realized what he'd really been hungry for!

Gurdel Gurdel crept closer and closer to Little Anthony. Little Anthony saw him and was afraid.

"You can't have any of my gingerbread man," Little Anthony said, close to tears.

"I don't want your stupid gingerbread man," Gurdel Gurdel grunted. "No, that's not what I want. What I want is you!"

And with that he swallowed Little Anthony whole, leaving behind a mere button from Little Anthony's coat.

For the first time in his short life, Gurdel Gurdel smiled. To his immense satisfaction, he gave a burp so loud and ominous, it sounded like thunder.

Mother Thippermill looked up from her garden. The sky was calm and the birds were singing in the trees.

"Something is not right," she thought. She began making clucking noises with her tongue. She decided to ring the big bell that hung from the porch. This was the signal for all the children to come quickly inside and assemble in the dining room so Mother Thippermill could count them.

"One, two, three — don't push, dear children! Four, five, six, seven — Tommy, no insects in the house. Eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve — quickly! Oh, my!"

Mother Thippermill counted only twelve children and there were thirteen! "I must have counted wrong. Line up, children! One, two, three, four — stand up straight, Maybelle! Five, six, seven eight — quiet, children, quiet! Nine, ten, eleven — twelve!"

She looked around to make sure all the children were lined up and not hiding underneath a table or behind a chair.

"Who can be missing? Why, where is Little Anthony?"

All the children looked around. Little Anthony was missing.

"Search all over, children. Little Anthony must be found!"

Mother Thippermill and all the children looked inside closets, in the garden, in the attic, all through the playground — wherever Little Anthony could possibly be. But all they found was one little button near the big cherry tree.

All the children began to cry.

"Now, children, no need to worry," Mother Thippermill said, clucking. "Perhaps Little Anthony took a walk somewhere. To the village maybe."

That cheered everyone up.

But one day, two days, three days went by and Little Anthony could not be found. No one knew that Little Anthony had been swallowed up by Gurdel Gurdel.

Mother Thippermill was more than a little perplexed. She decided the only thing left to do was send for the Doctor.

The Doctor came at once. She was dressed in long robes and wore a floppy red hat that looked like a nightcap. She talked for some time with Mother Thippermill. Then she asked the children some questions.

"When did you last see Little Anthony, children?"

"I saw him tying his shoe after breakfast!" Nina said.

"He and I threw stones in the stream after lunch!" Timothy said.

"I told him to stop bugging me. He's always bugging me," complained Harold.

"I saw him eating a gingerbread man," grunted Gurdel Gurdel, licking his lips with his huge black tongue.

"Come here!" the Doctor ordered.

Gurdel Gurdel slowly stepped towards her.

"Why you're not a little boy!" the Doctor said. "You're a Walla Beast!"

"A Walla Beast!" Mother Thippermill cried.

"A Walla Beast!" all the children cried.

At first no one moved. They all looked at Gurdel Gurdel, who was very quiet. And then he snorted gleefully. At last he had discovered that he was not a disgusting, little human child at all, but a Walla Beast! He began to dance around and around.

The children screamed. They ran to hide under beds and inside chests, wherever they could possibly fit.

"A Walla Beast!" Mother Thippermill cried again. She could not believe it. "Oh, my, my, my! And I thought you were a little boy. A bit ugly, but still, a little boy!"

"How dare you disguise yourself as a little boy?" the Doctor demanded. "Did you eat Little Anthony, Walla Beast?"

Gurdel Gurdel did not answer. Instead, he opened his huge mouth. Out poured disgusting, repulsive things: bats with long fangs, hornets fat with venom, worms ten feet long, slimy goo that filled up every crevice of the floor. Oh, the horrible, horrible things that came out of the Walla Beast's mouth!

The Doctor was dripping with goo. Bats clawed at her hair. Hornets were flying around her face. And a big slug-like worm was wrapped around her legs. Eyeball to eyeball, the Doctor and the Walla Beast stood against each other.

"Leave now and save yourself, Walla Beast!" the Doctor commanded.

The Walla Beast gave out a laugh that shook the whole house.

"I am going to eat you!" the Walla Beast said. Again he opened his mouth. Out came a long, black, wart-infested tongue that slithered towards the Doctor.

The Doctor raised her arm and pointed towards the sky. Her eyes grew very large and a rumbling sound came from inside her throat. With her other arm she pointed at the Walla Beast, her whole body shaking.

"Down Walla Beast!" she screamed. "Contend with this!"

And best of all, tiny blue spiders which spun a strong net around the Walla Beast. And from the Doctor's mouth flew out wondrous things: fierce hawks that killed the bats with big fangs and the worms ten feet long. Fragrant water that cleansed the house of the slimy goo and drowned the hornets. And best of all, tiny blue spiders which spun a strong net around the Walla Beast.

The Walla Beast gave out a piercing cry, but could not break the magical web.

The Doctor killed the Walla Beast. She ripped open its stomach and pulled Little Anthony out. All the children came out of their hiding places. Mother Thippermill gave Little Anthony a big hug and kissed him. She gave him a hot bath, dressed him in warm pajamas and put him to bed.

From then on, Mother Thippermill was very careful about children who came naked from forests. And she never, ever again served gingerbread cookies.