Hazel Read Free Page B

this.’
    Hazel gazed at him admiringly. He had such a way of putting things. But just then the side of the run was lifted up, and a hand reached in and grabbed Tobacco in mid-sentence. He was just
saying, ‘I know this guinea pig once who knew about grass …’
    ‘Don’t squeak, Baccy darling,’ said the girl. ‘You are going to meet Fudge.’
    ‘Oh, he
is
sweet,’ said Rona. ‘He’s so nice and glossy.’
    ‘Fudge is nice, too,’ said the girl politely.
    Tobacco stayed still in the girl’s hands and quietened down. She sat on the grass and held him in her lap. He looked this way and that. This way he could see the wife, running about the
run, saying, ‘Ar, juicy, that’s the word for it.’ And that way, the other way, he could see some knees, clad in a pair of jeans, and some hands on which the nails were rather
bitten down, and in the hands the silliest-looking guinea pig Tobacco had ever seen in his life. It was an orange affair (not that he troubled himself about colours; as it happened he
couldn’t make out colours). And it had this sort of fur-hat thing on its head. Well, really! Tobacco tried to think of a word for it and selected the word
silly
.
    It was the silliest-looking guinea pig Tobacco had ever seen in his life.
    ‘I mean,’ he said quietly to himself, ‘a head’s a head. Just a head. You don’t need to go dolling it up with a sort of
hat
effort.’
    ‘I think he chirruped then,’ said the girl optimistically.
    ‘It sounded more like a whimper,’ said her friend Rona.
    ‘No,’ said the girl firmly, ‘it was a definite chirrup.’
    ‘I so very much hope,’ said Rona, ‘that they’ll like one another.’
    ‘It is impossible not to like Tobacco,’ said the girl.
    ‘Shall we try putting them together in the hutch?’ said Rona.
    The girl stood up and carried Tobacco down to the garden shed where the hutches were, and Rona followed carrying Fudge. The girl opened the bedroom door of the hutch and put Tobacco inside.
Tobacco felt disappointed that he had been given such a very
short
time in the run. He had been enjoying the fresh air, and the grass, and the good talk. But he contented himself with the
certainty that Hazel would soon be brought to join him.
    ‘Shall we put Fudge in the bedroom, too?’ asked the girl.
    ‘No,’ said Rona, ‘I’ll put her in this living room part of the hutch.’
    So this they did. And then they shut the doors, making sure that they were fastened securely. The two girls peered into the hutch. Fudge chirruped and nuzzled into Tobacco’s feeding
bowl.
    ‘She loves that bran,’ said Rona. Then she added coyly, ‘I expect they want to be left on their own.’
    And the two girls walked out of the shed, leaving the guinea pigs to their own devices. They went and sat on the lawn and watched Hazel munching her grass-feast in the run.
    ‘Wouldn’t it be lovely if Fudge had some babies?’ said Rona.
    ‘A whole litter of crested Tobaccos,’ said her friend. ‘As glossy and friendly and sweet as Tobacco, only with little crests on their heads! If Fudge
does
have a
litter of babies, would you let me have one?’
    ‘Would your mum let you have three guinea pigs?’ asked Rona.
    ‘Of course she wouldn’t,’ said the girl’s brother, who had come out to join them. He thought it was soppy to be drooling over the little creatures in this way. He wanted
someone to play tennis with and waved a racket grandly. ‘Come and play a game.’
    ‘Not if you’re going to be rude about Baccy,’ said his sister.
    ‘I’d like to play,’ said Roma.
    So they all went to the nearby park to play tennis.
    Inside the hutch, Tobacco lay in his hay bed for a while, and felt sad. Then he decided that there was no point in sulking, and he had no sooner made this sensible decision than his spirits
lifted. He heard some munching and scuffling next door in the living room and he happily assumed that Hazel had been brought to join him.
    ‘I could have done