Stopping for a Spell Read Online Free Page A

Stopping for a Spell
Book: Stopping for a Spell Read Online Free
Author: Diana Wynne Jones
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Person twice as loudly as the Vicar. “I am—hn snuffle—Chair Person. How kind of you all to come and—hn hm—meet me. These good people”—he nodded and waved arms at Dad and Mum—“have been honored to put up with me, but they are only small stupid people who do not matter.”
    The slightly smug smile on Dad’s face vanished at this.
    â€œI shall—hn hm—talk to people who matter,” said Chair Person. He lumbered across the room, bumping into everything he passed. Ladies hastily got coffee cups out of his way. He stopped in front of the Vicar and breathed heavily. “Could I trouble you to move?” he said.
    â€œEh?” said the Vicar. “Er—”
    â€œEr, hn hm, you appear to be sitting in my seat,” said Chair Person. “I am Chair Person. I am the one who shall talk to—hn hm—the government. I shall be running this meeting.”
    The Vicar got out of the chair as if it had scalded him and backed away. Chair Person sat himself down and looked solemnly around.
    â€œCoffee,” he said. “Er, hn hm, cakes. While the rest of the world starves.”
    Everyone shifted and looked uncomfortably at their cups.
    In the silence Chair Person looked at Mum. “Hn hm,” he said. “Maybe you have not noticed that you’ve not given me—hn hm—coffee or cakes.”
    â€œIs that what you meant?” said Mum. “I thought after all the breakfast you ate—”
    â€œI meant—hn hm—that we are here to feast and prove that we at least have enough to eat,” said Chair Person. While Mum was angrily pouring coffee into the cracked cup that was the last one in the cupboard, he turned to the nearest lady. “I decided to grow a beard,” he said, “to show I am—hn hm—important to the ecology. It makes my face look snuffle grand.”
    The lady stared at him. Auntie Christa said loudly, “We are here to talk about Africa, Mr. Chair Person.”
    â€œEr, hn hm,” said Chair Person. “I happen to know a lot about Africa. The government should act to make sure that the African—hn hm—elephant does not die out.”
    â€œWe were not going to talk about elephants,” the Vicar said faintly.
    â€œThe snuffle gorilla is an endangered animal, too,” said Chair Person. “And the herds of—hn hm—wildebeest are not what they were in the days of Dr. Livingstone, I presume. Drought afflicts many animals—I appear to have drunk all my coffee—and famine is poised to strike.” And he went on talking, mixing up about six different television programs as he talked. The Vicar soon gave up trying to interrupt, but Auntie Christa kept trying to talk, too. Every time she began, Chair Person went “ER, HN HM!” so loudly that he drowned her out, and took no notice of anything she said. Marcia could not help thinking that Chair Person must have stood in the living room picking up hints from Auntie Christa for years. Now he was better at not letting other people talk than Auntie Christa was.
    In the meantime Chair Person kept eating cakes and asking for more coffee. The respectable people, in a dazed sort of way, tried to keep up with Chair Person, which meant that Simon and Marcia were kept very busy carrying cups and plates. In the kitchen Mum was baking and boiling the kettle nonstop, while Dad grimly undid packets and mixed cake mix after cake mix.
    By this time Simon was finding it hard to be sorry for Chair Person at all. “I didn’t know you thought you were so important,” he said as he brought Chair Person another plate of steaming buns.
    â€œThis must be—hn hm—reported to Downing Street,” Chair Person told the meeting, and he interrupted himself to say to Simon, “That is because I—er, hn hm—always take care to be polite to people like you who don’t snuffle count… I
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