1 The Beastly Beginning

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The Beastly Beginning When Ebenezer Tweezer was eleven years old, the world was much younger. Instead of cars on the streets, there were horses and carriages. In place of phones and computers, people would communicate via letters and hopeful shouting. There was no such thing as photographs, and so if you were the sort of person who liked to capture the moment whenever you happened to be wearing a nice outfit or eating

a pretty meal, you would have to travel around with your own personal portrait artist. Electricity was nothing more than a silly word back then, which meant that you could only read books past bedtime if you had an extensive collection of candles. In short, it was a pretty rotten time to be alive. And for poor Ebenezer, it was especially rotten, because he was a deeply unpopular child. It's hard to say exactly what made him so unpopular. Perhaps it was because he had a smug-looking face, or it might have had something to do with the fact that his outfits were always rather extravagant—filled with ruffles and colorful patterns. Whatever the reason, it was clear that the other children did not care for young

Ebenezer. He was never invited to their feasts, jester jousts, or theater trips, but this didn't deter him from arriving uninvited. In fact, Ebenezer would spend most afternoons lurking outside the Muddlington Pie Shoppe because he knew that, from time to time, the children would gather there and challenge each other to impromptu pasty-eating competitions. More often than not, though, Ebenezer would spend entire days outside the pie shop, and no children would arrive. Ebenezer would use the time to practice his conversation skills by talking to the wall. He'd say things like: "Isn't it a fine day we're having?" Or:

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"Have you seen that new comedy by Willy Whatshisname? No, I didn't get any of the jokes either." And: "Such a rotter about that plague, isn't it?" Invariably, the wall didn't have anything to say. But Ebenezer didn't mind, because he saw all these one-sided chats as terribly good warm-ups for the real thing. He was sure that if he could only strike upon the right topic of conversation, or wear the right number of ruffles on his shirt, then the other children would let him join in with their pasty-filled merriment. On one such day, when he was lurking outside the pie shop, Ebenezer became aware of a commotion taking place in the square. The town crier had given up his usual