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Read this tale, or ask your teacher/parent/helper to read it for you, and try to answer the questions at the end. If you manage to answer them (or some of them) correctly, you will be using alliteration for yourself!
It was a hot, hazy day and the Storyteller was burning up! His long red coat drooped drearily around his knees and his bright yellow hat lay limply on his damp grey curls. His wobbly glasses slid slowly off his red bobbly nose and he felt very, very unhappy.
He loped lazily up the leafy lane towards the farm. He was quite out of milk you see and was on his way to pick up a pint or two from Geraldine Geranium the local farmer.
Suddenly he stopped. There in the field behind the high hedgerow, was a sheep. Well, he thought it was a sheep but whatever it was was shaking so badly he couldn't quite be sure. He climbed carefully through the hedge and went closer. Yes, it was a sheep - a shivering sheep, in fact a sheep which was shivering so much it was falling about all over the place.
The Storyteller was just about to creep closer when he heard a kind of dripping sound behind him. He turned and there was a dog. Well, he thought it was a dog. It was hard to tell. Whateveritwas' chin was on the ground, as was its tummy and it was kind of creeping along. It came closer and the Storyteller could see that it was indeed a dog - a droopy dog. In fact a dog so droopy it could only crawl along at a snail's pace.
The Storyteller was just about to lean low over the droopy dog to see if he could help when he heard a sizzling sound at his feet. He looked down and there was an ant. At least he thought it was an ant but it was moving so quickly and making such a sizzling sound that he wasn't quite sure. He crouched creakily and could see that it was definitely an ant - a very angry ant in fact.
The Storyteller was just about to pick up the angry ant (it really could not be good for it to be so angry in all this heat) when he heard a cranky croak just behind his left heel. He stood up straight and turned. There, on a dandelion leaf, just behind him, was a frog. Well, on second thoughts, was it a frog? Whateveritwas was wearing a shocking pink sundress, blowing bright bubbles through one of those plastic things with a hole at the top (YOU KNOW!!) and singing "I'm a little teapot, short and stout" at the top of its voice. On closer inspection the Storyteller could see that it WAS a frog - a very frivolous frog at that!
So there, he was, standing in a field in very, very warm weather, surrounded by a shivering sheep, a droopy dog, an angry ant and a frivolous frog. What to do? Where to turn?
The Storyteller, quite honestly, was just about to turn, take a flying leap at the high hedgerow, just to "get the heck out of there" when he heard a chuckle. It was a chilling chuckle. A chuckle to chill your bones.
Slowly, he looked across the field. There, coming towards him was a chicken. Well, he was pretty certain it was a chicken. It was hard to tell really. It was as wide as it was tall. It was bounding across the green, green grass like one of those bouncing bombs and chuckling madly to itselt.
The sheep began to shiver even more sharply. The dog drooped lower to the ground. The ant sizzled and sputtered as it chased itself round and round. The frivolous frog blew even more bright bubbles and stripped off its shocking pink sundress to reveal a blue string vest with the word "HELP!!" written on it back and front.
The chubby chicken bounced ever closer. For a moment there, The Storyteller was frozen on the spot. Then, out of the corner of his eye he saw something so simple just lying there in the field that he realised that all was not lost.
The chilling chuckle grew louder and louder, the portly poultry bounced higher and higher as it got near.
Then it stopped in mid bounce, just as it was about to land on the shivering sheep. The chubby chicken bounced back a bounce. It stood, still chuckling slightly chillingly but not half so much.
Its beady black eyes were fixed on what The Storyteller held before him. It bounced back a bit further (well, this time it was not so much as a bounce as a slither). The shivering sheep, the droopy dog, the angry ant and the frivolous frog began to settle as they too looked at The Storyteller's find.
The chubby chicken suddenly turned and hopped, slithered, leaped and loped (all at the same time) back across the field. No more chuckles, no more bouncing.
The Storyteller began to laugh. The shivering sheep stopped shivering. The droopy dog undrooped himself, the ant became cool, calm and collected and the frivolous frog slipped his shocking pink sundress back on, laid back on his dandelion leaf and began to sing again.
"Who is for a barbecue?" laughed The Storyteller.
Yes, he had found the old barbecue on wheels which Geraldine Geranium had chucked out into the field earlier in the summer (I believe she had bought herself a brand new super-duper affair with a SPIT!!).
The Storyteller nipped to the farm (no sign of the chubby chicken at all) and bought up some sausages and sweetcorn along with his milk, raced back to the field and a wonderful time was had by all.
They didn't, however, notice the beady black eyes staring at them from a nearby bush....
What sort of a day was it?
What was the name of the farmer?
What was the sheep doing?
Which bits of the dog were drooping on the ground?
What sort of sound was the ant making?
What colour sundress was the frog wearing?
...and what colour string vest did he have on?
The chubby chicken bounced along like what? (this is known as a simile by the way!)
Think of another adjective (describing word) to use to describe the sheep in this story - it must start with "sh"
What other food can you think of beginning with "s" which they might have needed for their barbecue?