Erbutt

Erbutt was a worm. He lived in a lovely snug hole under a beatifully kept lawn that was cut very regularly, and fed and watered with loving care.

You'd think Erbutt was living in paradise, with the grass just long enough to hide him from birds yet not so long that it made his travels difficult when he came up for air. But this wasn't the case. Erbutt could put up with the noise of mowing etc because when all is said and done it did him a favour - but throughout the summer months, and especially on weekends there was all sorts of noise going on.

Banging and clattering, funny rumbling noises, lots of thuds of people walking about and sometimes an almost continuous cacophany of people shouting to one another from opposite ends of the lawn.

It made it almost impossible to have an afternoon nap, and sunbathing was out of the question. More than once poor old Erbutt had had to move pretty sharpish to avoid being squashed. And several times he'd had to re-dig some of his best tunnels that had collapsed because of all the things going on up above. Erbutt was beggining to get fed up with this, but he didn't want to move because for most of the year it really was a lovely place to live.

Things came to a head one lazy summer's afternoon. All sorts of bangings and thumpings were going on directly over the spot he'd chosen to catch fourty winks. Three times he'd been woken up.

The final straw was when Erbutt decided to go and see what was going on. The exit hole was blocked! Something black that smelt of rubber was in the way.

Erbutt pondered for a while, and then began to dig a new tunnel, every now and then trying to find a way up to the surface. At last he succeeded, but, just as he began to wriggle out of the hole a huge black ball came rushing at him and he had to pull himself back in very very quickly. He wasn't quite quick enough however and he got a nasty bump on the head, and a faceful of soil as the edge of his new exit hole crumbled under the weight of the ball.

Groggily, Erbutt began to straighten himself out and get started on sorting out the mess. It took him quite a while, and he noticed that the noise seemed to move off mostly to the far end of the lawn for a while before coming back again to make his clean-up job more difficult.

Eventually it was all done, and Erbutt took the opportunity to rest until the noise had moved away. Carefully he reopened the hole and peeked out.

He could see a few of the black balls scattered around, and a smaller white one too, but, from down there on the ground he couldn't actually see what was going on.

Erbutt decided that he needed a better view. The only good place was the old oak that was shading the corner of the lawn.

Puffing and panting, with not a few scrapes and scratches, Erbutt arrived on a branch overlooking the whole of the lawn. And what a sight it was. Lots of people bowling balls up and down the green. It was fascinating, and Erbutt was to watch for hours until it got too dark for the people to play any more.

He was very tired by the time he got home. He'd had to dodge two shrews who were looking for a snack, and in fact, while in the tree he'd been dodging a few starlings until he'd finally found a place from where he not only got a good view, but couldn't be spotted himself.

His dreams that night were filled with crashing balls, and cries of well done, and his dearest wish was to be able to watch again.

All his friends soon joined him in watching the games, and quite a few of them moved in to live with Erbutt under his lawn so that they could be woken by the first few plays and head off to the trees to get a grandstand view.

So next time you see some people playing on a bowling green take a look up in the trees, they'll be hard to spot, but Erbutt and his friends are up there somewhere ...