Flat Stanley in Space. Jeff Brown
d="u458d5ac3-d0c7-5913-abf0-a46824eb27c0">
For Sidney Urquhart, the godmother
to whom Stanley owes so much.
First published in Great Britain 1990
by Methuen Children’s Books Ltd
Reissued 2012
by Egmont UK Limited
The Yellow Building, 1 Nicholas Road, London, W11 4AN
Text copyright © 1990 Jeff Brown
Illustrations copyright © 2012 by the Trust
u/w/o Richard C. Brown a/k/a/Jeff Brown
f/b/o Duncan Brown
First e-book edition 2014
ISBN 978 1 4052 0419 4
eISBN 978 1 7803 1220 0
A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
Stay safe online. Any website addresses listed in this book are correct at the time of going to print. However, Egmont is not responsible for content hosted by third parties. Please be aware that online content can be subject to change and websites can contain content that is unsuitable for children. We advise that all children are supervised when using the internet.
CONTENTS
‘Will you meet with us?
Does anyone hear?’
From the great farness of space,
from farther than any planet or
star that has ever been mentioned
in books, the questions came.
Again and again.
‘Will you meet with us?
Does anyone hear?’
It was Saturday morning, and Mr and Mrs Lambchop were putting up wallpaper in the kitchen.
‘Isn’t this nice, George?’ said Mrs Lambchop, stirring paste. ‘No excitement. A perfectly usual day.’
Mr Lambchop knew just what she meant. Excitement was often troublesome. The flatness of their son Stanley, for example, after his big bulletin board settled on him overnight. Exciting, but worrying too, till Stanley got round again. And that genie visiting, granting wishes. Oh, very exciting! But all the wishes had to be unwished before the genie returned to the lamp from which he sprung.
‘Yes, dear.’ Mr Lambchop smoothed down wallpaper. ‘Ordinary. The very best sort of day.’
In the living-room, Stanley Lambchop and his younger brother Arthur were watching a Tom Toad cartoon on TV. The sporty Toad was water-skiing and fell off, making a great splash. Arthur laughed so hard he didn’t hear the telephone, but Stanley answered it.
‘Lambchop residence?’ said the caller. ‘The President of the United States speaking. Who’s this?’
Stanley smiled. ‘The King of France.’
‘They don’t have kings in France. Not any more.’
‘Excuse me, but I’m too busy for jokes.’ Stanley kept his eyes on the TV. ‘My brother and I are watching the Tom Toad Show.’
‘Well, you keep watching, young fellow!’ The caller hung up, just as Mr and Mrs Lambchop came in to watch the rest of the show.
‘Hey, guess what?’ Stanley said.
‘Hay is for horses,’ said Mrs Lambchop, mindful always of careful speech. ‘Who called, dear?’
Stanley laughed. ‘The President of the United States!’
Arthur laughed too. ‘Stanley said he was the King of France!’
Tom Toad vanished suddenly from the TV screen, and an American flag appeared. ‘We bring you a special message from the White House in Washington, DC,’ said the deep voice of an announcer. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, the President of the United States!’
The screen showed the President, looking very serious, behind his desk.
‘My fellow Americans,’ the President said. ‘I am sorry to interrupt this programme, but someone out there doesn’t realise that I am a very busy man who can’t waste time joking on the telephone. I hope the particular person I am talking to – and I do not mean the King of France! – will remember that. Thank you. Now here’s The Toad Show again.’