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The Storyteller's Big Day
The Storyteller was humming , if a little frantically, a frilly little tune to
himself. Today was "The Day". "The Day" he had been awaiting
for the last three and a half weeks ever since he had heard that he had been
selected for the final of the Storytelling Competition to be held in the local
Leisure Centre.
He had, it has to be said, been a little frightened by the Leisure Centre bit,
never having set foot inside a Leisure Centre. He wondered if it meant he should
attend in informal attire - sweat pants perhaps? Or should it be running shorts?
The very thought of himself in a pair of natty lycra running shorts made
frissons of embarrassment and shame run up and down his back, but, after a
lengthy telephone conference with another Storyteller, Francis Frogwatcher
(don't ask! some people just have very strange hobbies in their free time), he
discovered that he could wear his usual bright yellow hat and long red coat and
was able to concentrate on washing, ironing and starching his outfit until it
stood quite freely on its own in his wardrobe.
The Storyteller walked stiffly (perhaps he had overdone the starching bit?) to
his front door and along his garden path, rehearsing his tale to himself as he
went. The day was frosty and clear and, for a minute, he thought he heard an
echo from further up the lane but perhaps it was just a fragment of his
imagination?
He caught the Free Bus into town, still rehearsing his tale and still hearing
that echo, this time coming from behind him. He turned frequently but, apart
from a frail and hooded figure, hunched down in its seat three seats behind,
there was nothing there.
On arriving at the Leisure Centre the Storyteller made his way into the main
hall. The judges were sitting in a huddle at the front of the stage and a gaggle
of storytellers were milling about, muttering to themselves and generally
becoming more confused and nervous.
The Storyteller sat down at the back of the hall. He rehearsed his tale once
more and once more he heard an echo. He noticed that the frail and hooded figure
from the bus was sitting four seats along but, although a frightful thought was
lurking at the edge of his mind, he managed to put it out of his head and
concentrate harder on his tale.
The time came. The Storyteller rose from his seat and marched confidently to the
front. He told his tale (a tale of freedom and frankness he had picked up from
his adventures during the French Revolution involving much frippery and
frolicking) and sat down again to great applause.
Next up was the frail and hooded figure from the bus (and from the seat four
seats along).
The Storyteller froze with shock. The tale being spun in a fragile and reedy
voice was......oh no!.....exactly the same free and frank, frippery and frolicky
tale as his own!!!! THAT was where the echo had come from......that frail and
hooded figure......who was it?....there was something familiar....but what?
As the figure returned to its seat, a croaking sound could be heard from under
its hood. The penny dropped, the wheels were grinding, the fruit-machine hit the
jackpot.
"FRANCIS BLOOMING FROGWATCHER!!" bellowed the Storyteller as he jumped
up from his seat. He belatedly remembered, during the lengthy telephone
conversation about "What to Wear" he had mentioned the tale he would
be telling and continued to shout.
Francis looked up in dismay. He looked left and right in a frightfully fearful
manner, gathered up his hood and feebly skittered away, out of the door
(followed, I have to say, by a very varied assortment of frogs and toads but
that's another story).
Once the judging was over a wonderful party was held for all the Storytellers
and, at the end of the day, the Storyteller made his way home, humming softly to
himself.
Did he win? Well no he didn't actually. But then, you see, that's not what
Storytelling is about really is it?
1. What did the Storyteller think he should wear to the Competition?
2. What was the weather like as the Storyteller set off?
3. What was it that the Storyteller kept thinking he heard?
4. The Storyteller's tale was about what event in History?
5.
We know that Francis Frogwatcher had frogs and toads as pets - what kind of
place do you think he lived in?
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