The Magic Finger by Roald Dahl. Part 3.
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They flew off to a tall tree, and right at the top of it Mr Gregg chose the place for the nest.
‘Now we want sticks, he said. ‘Lots and lots of little sticks. Off you go, all of you, and find them and bring them back here?
‘But we have no hands! said Philip.
‘Then use your mouths!’
Mrs Gregg and the children flew off. Soon they were back, carrying sticks in their mouths.
Mr Gregg took the sticks and started to build the nest.
‘More,’ he said. ‘I want more and more and more sticks. Keep going!’ The nest began to grow. Mr Gregg was very good at making the sticks stick together.
After a while he said, ‘That’s enough sticks. Now I want leaves and feathers and things like that to make the inside nice and soft.’
The building of the nest went on and on. It took a long time. But at
last it was finished.
‘Try it, said Mr Gregg, hopping back. He was very pleased with his work.
‘Oh, isn’t it lovely! cried Mrs Gregg, going into it and sitting down. ‘I feel I might lay an egg any moment!’ The others all got in beside her.
‘How warm it is!’ said William.
‘And what fun to be living so high up, said Philip. ‘We may be small, but nobody can hurt us up here!
‘But what about food?’ said Mrs Gregg. ‘We haven’t had a thing to eat all day!
‘That’s right,’ Mr Gregg said. ‘So we will now fly back to the house and go in by an open window and get the tin of biscuits when the ducks aren’t looking’
‘Oh, we will be pecked to bits by those dirty great ducks!’ cried Mrs Gregg.
‘We shall be very careful, my love, said Mr Gregg. And off they went.
But when they got to the house, they found all the windows and doors closed. There was no way in.
‘Just look at that beastly duck cooking at my stove!’ cried Mrs Gregg as she flew past the kitchen window. ‘How dare she!’
‘And look at that one holding my lovely gun!’ shouted Mr Gregg.
‘One of them is lying in my bed!’ yelled William, looking into a top window.
‘And one of them is playing with my electric train! cried Philip.
‘Oh, dear! Oh, dear!’ said Mrs Gregg. ‘They have taken over our whole house! We shall never get it back. And what are we going to eat?’
‘I will not eat worms, said Philip. ‘I would rather die.’
‘Or slugs, said William.
Mrs Gregg took the two boys under her wings and hugged them.
‘Don’t worry, she said. ‘I can mince it all up very fine and you won’t even know the difference. Lovely slugburgers. Delicious wormburgers’
‘Oh no!’ cried William.
‘Never!’ said Philip.
‘Disgusting!’ said Mr Gregg. ‘Just because we have wings, we don’t have to eat bird food. We shall eat apples instead. Our trees are full of them. Come on!’
So they flew off to an apple tree.
But to eat an apple without holding it in your hands is not at all easy.
Every time you try to get your teeth into it, it just pushes away. In the end, they were able to get a few small bites each. And then it began to get dark, so they all flew back to the nest and lay down to sleep.
It must have been at about this time that I, back in my own house, picked up the telephone and tried to call Philip. I wanted to see if the family was all right.
‘Hello, I said.
‘Quack!’ said a voice at the other end.
‘Who is it?’ I asked.
‘Quack-quack!’
‘Philip, I said, ‘is that you?’
‘Quack-quack-quack-quack-quack!’
‘Oh, stop it!’ I said.
Then there came a very funny noise. It was like a bird laughing. I put down the telephone quickly.
Oh, that Magic Finger!’I cried. ‘What has it done to my friends?’
That night, while Mr and Mrs Gregg and Philip and William were trying to get some sleep up in the high nest, a great wind began to blow. The tree rocked from side to side, and everyone, even Mr Gregg, was afraid that the nest would fall down. Then came the rain. It rained and rained, and the water ran into the nest and they all got as wet as could be – and oh, it was a bad, bad night!