01 Being Good

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Being Good Little Billy's mother was always telling him exactly what he was allowed to do and what he was not allowed to do. All the things he was allowed to do were boring. All the things he was not allowed to do were exciting. One of the things he was NEVER NEVER allowed to do, the most exciting of them all, was to go out through the garden gate all by himself and explore the world beyond. On this sunny summer afternoon, Little Billy was kneeling on a chair in the living room, gazing

out through the window at the wonderful world beyond. His mother was in the kitchen doing the ironing and although the door was open she couldn't see him. Every now and again his mother would call out to him, saying, 'Little Billy, what are you up to in there?' And Little Billy would always call back and say, 'I'm being good, Mummy.'

But Little Billy was awfully tired of being good. Through the window, not so very far away, he could see the big black secret wood that was called The Forest of Sin. It was something he had always longed to explore. His mother had told him that even grown-ups were frightened of going into The Forest of Sin. She recited a poem to him that was well known in the district. It went like this: Beware! Beware! The Forest of Sin! None come out, but many go in! 'Why don't they come out?' Little Billy asked her. 'What happens to them in the wood?' 'That wood,' his mother said, 'is full of the most bloodthirsty wild beasts in the world.'

'You mean tigers and lions?' Little Billy asked. 'Much worse than that,' his mother said. 'What's worse than tigers and lions, Mummy?' 'Whangdoodles are worse,' his mother said, 'and Hornswogglers and Snozzwanglers and Vermicious Knids.

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