J. P. Martin
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Unimaginably rich, invariably swathed in a magnificent purple dressing-gown, Uncle oversees a vast ramshackle castle full of friendly kooks while struggling to fend off the sneak attacks of the incorrigible Badfort Crowd. Each Uncle story introduces a new character from Uncle's madcap world, but for every delightful friend of Uncle, there is a foe who is no less deliriously wicked. Luckily the misbegotten schemes of the Badfort Crowd are no match for Uncle's superior wits.
Quentin Blake's quirky illustrations are the perfect complement to J.P. Martin's stories, each one of a perfect length for bedtime reading. Lovers of Roald Dahl and William Steig will rejoice in Uncle's wonderfully bizarre and happy world, where the good guys always come out on top, and once a year, everybody, good and bad, sits down together for an enormous Christmas feast.
Includes high-res scans of the illustrations.
miserberry bushes and rushed back to Uncle. “Oh, thank you, sir,” she cried, “and please forgive me. Now what a glorious prospect is before me! On twopence a week I can shop at Cheapman’s and live like a queen and have something over to give to my nine grandchildren when they come to see me. And there’s a sale at Cheapman’s tomorrow!” she added excitedly. “I may even get to that. Joy, joy, joy!” “A sale at Cheapman’s?” said Uncle. “Extraordinary! I don’t see how that man can reduce things
rushing in. “The ambulance from Badgertown Hospital is at the door, sir.” “Ambulance?” said Uncle. “Who for? Nobody is ill here!” “Oh, no, sir,” said the Old Monkey. “It’s Mr Linseed on his way to hospital!” There was a shuffling sound outside the door, and Linseed appeared supported by two strong young bears in the uniform of ambulance attendants. He seemed almost too weak to walk, and collapsed on to a large sofa and burst into tears. “Now, Linseed, drink this,” said Uncle, and handed
Dearman charge?” “Sixpence a week to begin with, but next week it’s doubled, and the next week doubled again. I thought I’d stay a week or two at the low price.” “I should advise you to have a straight talk with Dearman,” said Uncle, “and make him a firm straight offer for a reasonable rent. Later we must discuss a fresh start in business for you. Those police snacks sounded a good line to me.” “Oh, they were! If only I’d stuck to them I’d still be a prosperous man!” wailed Linseed. “And
It was beneath contempt. All the same Uncle was a little worried. Beaver Hateman, by some means or other, knew exactly where he had been and what he had been doing. A close watch was being kept on Crack House. That much was clear. FOURTEEN The Old Monkey Has a Good Idea BUTTERSKIN MUTE came to see Uncle a day or two after this. He was wearing a new smock and had a big basket of melons with him. “Hello, Mute,” said Uncle. “Have some Koolvat.” Mute put his rake in a corner and accepted a
threw it right across the water into the ooze of the bank. The skewer missed and Hitmouse paddled across the lake like a torpedo. He was too late, of course, to save his precious book from falling into the mud, but when he saw its pages streaming with watery black slime he gave a small but very terrible scream. Then, howling and bubbling, he disappeared among the trees. “Well done,” said Smoothy. “Never saw anything neater!” “Certainly it was an act of justice,” said Uncle. “That hating book