Mr. Popper's Penguins
Richard Atwater, Florence Atwater
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A classic of American humor, the adventures of a house painter and his brood of high-stepping penguins have delighted children for generations. "Here is a book to read aloud in groups of all ages. There is not an extra or misplaced word in the whole story."--The Horn Book. Newbery Honor Book.
said Mr. Popper, as he got up to go around and open all the windows. “It certainly is colder,” said Mrs. Popper, sneezing. The next few days were even colder, but the Poppers soon got used to sitting around in their overcoats. Greta and Captain Cook always occupied the chairs nearest the open windows. One night, quite early in November, there was a blizzard, and when the Poppers got up in the morning, there were large drifts of snow all over the house. Mrs. Popper wanted to get her broom and
Penguins, First Time on any Stage, Direct from the South Pole.” He and Mrs. Popper had thought up this name for the act “Couldn’t we call them Popper’s Pink-toed Penguins?” asked Mr. Greenbaum. Mr. Popper thought for a moment. “No,” he said, “I’m afraid we couldn’t. That sounds too much like chorus girls or ballet dancers, and these birds are pretty serious. I don’t think they’d like it.” “All right,” said Mr. Greenbaum. “Show me the act.” “There’s music to it,” said Janie. “Mamma plays the
we just have the penguins rehearse in there on a real stage? We’d have more room, and I think the audience would enjoy it.” “All right,” said the manager. “Let’s try it.” So the penguins had their first rehearsal on a real stage. The manager stepped out on the stage. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he said, raising his hand, “with your kind indulgence we are going to try out a little novelty number tonight. Owing to unforeseen circumstances, the Marvelous Marcos are unable to appear. We are going to
he wiped his eyes, straightened his back, and went up on deck to say good-by to Admiral Drake. “Good-by, Admiral Drake,” he said. “Good-by?” repeated the Admiral. “Why, what do you mean? Aren’t you coming with us?” “Me — go with you to the North Pole?” “Why, of course, Mr. Popper.” “But how could I go with you? I’m not an explorer or a scientist. I’m only a house painter.” “You’re the keeper of the penguins, aren’t you?” roared the Admiral. “Man alive, aren’t those penguins the reason for
know,” said Mr. Popper. “We ought to have some seafood for him, canned shrimps or something. Or maybe he isn’t hungry yet. I’ve read that penguins can go for a month without food.” “Mamma! Papa!” called Bill. “Come see what Captain Cook has done.” Captain Cook had done it all right. He had discovered the bowl of goldfish on the dining-room window sill. By the time Mrs. Popper reached over to lift him away, he had already swallowed the last of the goldfish. “Bad, bad penguin!” reproved Mrs.