Paddington Takes the Test

on’t miss the opening scene, dear,” she called. “You’ll see Dick Whittington’s marmalade cat.”
Paddington licked his lips. “I shall enjoy that, Mrs. Brown,” he announced.
The Browns looked at each other uneasily. “Well . . . ,” began Mr. Brown. “Don’t be too disappointed. It isn’t a realcat.”
“I shouldn’t think so,” said Paddington. “Not if it’s made of marmalade.”
“It isn’t actually madeof marmalade either,” said Judy.
“Besides, it’s in two parts,” remarked Jonathan.
“Dick Whittington’s cat’s in two parts!” exclaimed Paddington. He jumped up from his seat in order to consult his program. Once when he’d been taken to the theater there had been a small slip tucked inside saying that one of the actors was indisposed, but either words had failed the management on this occasion, or they were keeping the matter very dark, for no matter how hard he shook his program, nothing fell out.
“I didn’t mean the catwas in two parts,” hissed Jonathan as the houselights dimmed. “I meant two people take turns to play it.”

Pity about the beef Wellington being off,” said the man. “Sounded a bit of all right, that.”
“I know,” said his companion sympathetically. “’Ad me taste buds all of aquiver it did. The waiter said they was ’aving trouble with the pastry chef and . . .”
Paddington strained his ears in an effort to catch the rest of the conversation, but it was cut off in midair by a click as the door swung shut and the speakers continued on their way.
For a moment he lay where he was, growing more and more upset. It wasn’t often Mr. Gruber gave himself a treat, and when he did, he always made sure he shared it with others. One of the things he’d specially mentioned about the present outing was the beef Wellington, and the thought of his being done out of it was most upsetting. Paddington had a strong sense of right and wrong.

“I must say,” he continued as he sat down alongside his friend, “making both ends meet can be a bit of a problem at times—especially if you don’t get your sums right.”
“Oh, I’m always very careful with my accounts, Mr. Gruber,” said Paddington. “I do them every night before I go to bed.”