“Hey you, litter lout”, a voice called behind him. The Old Codger turned round to see a policeman looking at him. “You should be setting the kids a good example at your age”. The Old Codger felt like telling him to mind his own business but he always had a fear of the police ever since he was a boy when he built a model boat with a battering ram to sink the other boats and sank the police seargeant’s prize two-master. He thought he was going to be locked away for good when the police seargeant took him to the police station while they rang his parents.

The Old Codger sneaked away from the waterfront, looking behind him to see if the policeman was following him. He hid in doorways and behind lampposts until he had made his way back to his lodgings. He checked once more that the policeman was not following him then hurried inside.

The Old Codger tried to be as quiet as possible as he walked up the stairs, but the second step creaked terribly and at the sound the landlady opened the doors of the hatch and stuck her head out. “Good evening Mr. Curmudgeon”, she said warmly, “been out for a walk have we?” The Old Codger had no intention of stopping for a chat and continued up the stairs but the landlady had other ideas. “Mr. Curmudgeon don’t stand on ceremony, call me Arabella please”. The Old Codger understood the danger of calling her any such thing and ran upstairs to escape any more embarassment.

Later when the Old Codger was ready for bed in his Micky Mouse pyjamas a knock came on the door. Before he could do anything the door opened slightly and Arabella’s head peeked round. “Oh Mr. Curmudgeon what lovely pyjamas. I’ve brought you a mug of hot cocoa to help you sleep. And I’ll tuck you into bed so you are as snug as a bug in a rug”.

The Old Codger looked at her and there was a power in her eyes. The way she looked with her wrinkled face and those deep dark eyes he thought she was a witch. “Go away you old hag”, he said retreating back to the wall, “I don’t want any of your potions or spells”.