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pencildragon11, who wrote the tale of Foggybog the Frippilous, while I went forward in history and wrote the tale of the arrival of Foggybog II, son of Puddleglum, and his overly-excited big sister. Hope you like this frippilous little tale.
The young Wigglet tucked her lanky green legs underneath her and wriggled happily on the bank, pole in hand.
She was almost too excited to remember the instructions Puddleglum had given her: lots of slack on the line (eels would bolt at the slightest resistance), keep the bait very still (eels ate dead things), and wait three breaths after the tug to pull the line sharply up and onto the bank (so the eel had time to latch on good and tight). What would probably end up happening, though, is she would jump up and scream and drop the pole and Puddleglum would have to snatch it up, if he caught it at all. But he was her dad, so he probably would. He could do most anything.
Jillyweed was very determined to do whatever it took to catch lots and lots of eels to make stew for her hungry mummy. So she kept her pole very still and tried not to wriggle. It was hard. "When will the pollywiggle get here?" she asked, not for the first time.
"Not for many hours. Days, I shouldn't wonder," said Puddleglum with resignation. "Pollywogs always take less time."
"Like me," said Jillyweed proudly. She had come early – it was a story she often requested – and Thistlefen said it was because she was impatient to get to adventuring, like her father.
She was not precisely sure how pollywogs and -wiggles arrived – maybe a Great Blue Heron flew overhead and dropped the Wigglet down the smoke-hole! Why her mummy couldn't eat until the bundle arrived was a mystery, but Jillyweed knew for sure that she would need lots of fresh eel stew very very soon, when her new pollywiggle – and she knew it was a wiggle – brother got there.
And then, finally, Jilly would have someone to go adventuring with! Just like Lady Jill from her dad's adventures! "Can I go exploring with the new pollywiggle right away?"
"Not for a very, very, very long time," predicted Puddleglum gloomily.
Jillyweed was not so easily discouraged; that was just Dad's way. "Do you think it will have Mummy's hair?"
"Like as not it won't."
"Tell me again what you said to Mummy when you went on your first fish together!"
Puddleglum sighed. "I told her," he said in his gloomiest tone, "that she had the greenest hair this side of the Shribble."
Jillyweed giggled. She had Mummy's greeny hair too.
"It's not funny," said Puddleglum seriously. "Too much bobance and bounce – it's not natural for a wiggle." His tall black hat wobbled as he shook his head and cast a mournful glance at her. "Sometimes I wonder, young Jillyweed…too much fricasseed frog in my younger days…"
"Yum!" Jillyweed loved fricasseed frog; Mummy would only let her have it on her hatchday and very special occasions. Maybe they could have some tonight. She could catch the frogs – she was good at that, being so full of "bobance and bounce" as they all told her – and after all, wasn't the arrival of a new Wigglet a very special occasion?
But first, she had to think of a name for it. "Can Eustace be a wiggle name?" Jillyweed wondered aloud. She thought it would be very fitting for her fellow adventurer to also be named after the Human children who had helped Dad. But Eustace was such a tricky name. Eustacequag? Eustacereed? Eustaslough? These were all terrible.
Puddleglum agreed. "Poor old Scrubb, even he didn't deserve that name. That fellow always did put a brave face on it. Shouldn't wonder if he met a horrible end of it on the other side."
Scrubb! Of course! "Glummyscrub," she announced proudly. "For you and Eustace."
"Any Marsh-wiggle with that name," said Puddleglum, "would very likely be too frolicsome to live long. And though I don't suppose the name matters much, we should give the pollywiggle a fighting shot, even if it does turn out like me. Flighty," he concluded glumly.
Jillyweed was already considering her favorite Wiggles from the old stories. There was Peaterbleak the Woebegone (who lost his best hat fighting Ettins at the bridge), Muskegflood the first Ferry-wiggle (who was prepared for the flood to end all floods), and Drizzlegrim the Nearly-Lost Archer (who almost didn't come back from the World's End with the crew of the Dawn Treader). There was also Brackenslog, the greatest eel-catcher in history until she was shocked to death by one unexpectedly electric variety, and Hammockdrear, who grew the most wonderful swampflower garden around her wigwam despite getting flooded every rainy season. But those were Marsh-wogs, as Jillyweed liked to call them, using the old term for Lady-wiggles. And she was sure this Wigglet would be a pollywiggle.
But oh! She was forgetting the best one of all. "Dad!" exclaimed Jillyweed breathlessly. "Tell me about Foggybog again!"
She just had to hear the story one more time. She heard it at least once a week. Thistlefen was sure it would come to no good, no good whatsoever, to hear that story so often. Jilly knew better. And Puddleglum always gave in with a very gusty sigh and repeated the tale she knew by heart now.
"Well, we're not likely to catch any eels today," said Puddleglum. "Might as well hear something that will cheer us up. Make the best of it."
"Goody!" Jillyweed clapped her hands in glee, and in the process dropped her pole into her lap. Bother. It was just as she had expected. But with less eels. And she did manage to grab the pole back without any help from her dad.
Puddleglum uncleared his throat to a proper garling croak. "I know of a tale," he began in the traditional start to a wiggle story, " – but you probably won't want to hear it."
"I suppose I'll listen; better than smoke in the wigwam," recited Jillyweed enthusiastically.
"You won't like it much if I tell it," warned Puddleglum as the response demanded. "I don't know anyone who does." Jilly was mouthing the oft-repeated introduction as he said it; the rhythm was almost like the poetry in the Faun-books, just less pretty. "But if you are quite braced for disappointment, I'll tell you about Foggybog the Frippilous."
Jillyweed gave a happy sigh.
***
"…tucked them in his hat, and set off for the south." Puddleglum fell silent here and stared off across the reedy marsh, puffing on his pipe like a smoke-filled wigwam.
That was the ending; it wasn't much of an ending, but that was how it always ended, and that was enough for Jillyweed. She wriggled happily, kicking her legs against the bank, muddying her shoes. "Foggybog sure was a great Wiggle, wasn't he, Dad?"
"If you call soggy wigwams and terrible rhymes great," muttered Puddleglum.
"Oh! Oh! Oh!" Jillyweed couldn't keep herself from screaming in delight. "A tug! I got a tug, Dad! Foggybog was good luck! Oops, I should be counting to three, shouldn't I? One…"
"It's been three by now," said Puddleglum, shaking his head. "And it'll probably be a mud-trout, see if it isn't. Careful now, nice and tight on the line…"
"Here I go!" Jillyweed flicked the pole sharply up, just the way her Dad had showed her. A great big wriggly eel went flying overhead and up onto the bank before her. Jillyweed jumped up and crowed in delight.
"Steady now, old chap," said Puddleglum. "Hold this." He handed his own pole to Jillyweed, who obediently sat once more and glanced over her shoulder, watching Puddleglum set to work. After capturing the writhing creature and dispatching it quickly, he dumped it in the bucket, still puffing away on his pipe.
"It could have been much, much worse," Puddleglum admitted, surveying the find.
"Dad! DAD! ANOTHER ONE!" Jillyweed almost dropped the pole in her excitement. "Quick, take it, I'll probably botch it up!"
"I'll probably botch it up," predicted Puddleglum, but he took the pole and reeled in yet another massive eel. Jillyweed clapped gleefully. They would have a cauldron full of eel stew in no time at all!
***
The pollywiggle was finally here. Jillyweed was almost beside herself with anticipation. She had stirred the stew at least three dozen times while waiting to finally be allowed inside the wigwam.
She had no idea what the pollywiggle would look like. The Wiggle families nearby all had sprouts her own age, or a little younger. There had been no new pollywogs or -wiggles lately; Mummy said it was the late rains, they made for terrible hatching seasons. Jillyweed was sure, based on her knowledge of other young Wigglets, that she would get a brother who was the perfect size for adventuring. He could still fold up into small spaces, but would have long enough legs to keep up with her skips. Yes, she was in for good times now, for sure!
At last, after waiting nearly forever, Puddleglum said she could come in! She raced down the marsh-path to the door, chanting, "Time to go on ADVENTURES! Time to go on ADVENTURES!"
She popped through the doorframe of the wigwam and stopped short. Her mummy was on the rush mat, eating a bowl of the eel stew with three empty bowls beside her – Puddleglum had said she would be hungry! But where was the pollywiggle? Jillyweed peered all around the hut. No sign of any adventurers.
Thistlefen sighed. "You're looking for your brother, no doubt. Over there. Dreadfully small, he is. I knew the rains came too late this year…"
She pointed to a bucket sitting in the corner near her. Filled with curiosity, Jillyweed crept over to where she pointed and peered into the bucket. She frowned. What on earth was THAT?
For swimming in the brackish water was a BLOB with a TAIL. A greenish-grayish blob, with two tiny sprouts near the tail. This was terribly confusing. "Where's the pollywiggle?" she asked doubtfully.
"That's him," said Thistlefen mournfully. "Small, ain't he? I'm afraid there's nothing to be done, but let 'im grow."
Jillyweed covered her mouth in horror. Then…then…no adventures. She couldn't possibly take this blob-with-a-tail on any adventures with her! And Dad would never let her go alone! "This is TERRIBLE!" she wailed.
"I know," said Thistlefen, nodding. "But what can you do?"
Jilly had never been so disappointed in her entire life. She ran out of the wigwam, straight into the arms of Puddleglum. "There, there, old chap," he said, patting her back awkwardly. "Stiff upper lip. Must make the best of it."
"But Dad, have you SEEN the pollywiggle? It's – it's – "
"It's a pollywiggle," said Puddleglum, shrugging. "He'll grow. I suppose it'll take a while to get all his arms and legs. You grew like a reed. They all start out like that. He'll get big soon enough. No reason to cry, see?"
Jillyweed thought hard about this new information. "I guess I can wait then," she sniffed. "But I wanted to go on adventures soon. And he's not good for much right now, is he?"
Puddleglum agreed with her. "Not much. There's just one thing pollywogs and –wiggles are good at."
"What's that?" Jillyweed looked up hopefully.
"Swimming," sighed Puddleglum. Most Wiggles, after all, would rather float all the way down the Shribble than swim a lick.
Jillyweed grinned broadly. She loved swimming. Maybe she and the pollywiggle could have some adventures after all. "I'm glad Foggybog's here!" she said, squeezing Puddleglum and skipping back down the path. She had some frogs to catch. They'd be sure to let her have fricasseed frog tonight!
Puddleglum just shook his head after her. Too much bobance and bounce.
pencildragon11, who wrote the tale of Foggybog the Frippilous, while I went forward in history and wrote the tale of the arrival of Foggybog II, son of Puddleglum, and his overly-excited big sister. Hope you like this frippilous little tale.The young Wigglet tucked her lanky green legs underneath her and wriggled happily on the bank, pole in hand.
She was almost too excited to remember the instructions Puddleglum had given her: lots of slack on the line (eels would bolt at the slightest resistance), keep the bait very still (eels ate dead things), and wait three breaths after the tug to pull the line sharply up and onto the bank (so the eel had time to latch on good and tight). What would probably end up happening, though, is she would jump up and scream and drop the pole and Puddleglum would have to snatch it up, if he caught it at all. But he was her dad, so he probably would. He could do most anything.
Jillyweed was very determined to do whatever it took to catch lots and lots of eels to make stew for her hungry mummy. So she kept her pole very still and tried not to wriggle. It was hard. "When will the pollywiggle get here?" she asked, not for the first time.
"Not for many hours. Days, I shouldn't wonder," said Puddleglum with resignation. "Pollywogs always take less time."
"Like me," said Jillyweed proudly. She had come early – it was a story she often requested – and Thistlefen said it was because she was impatient to get to adventuring, like her father.
She was not precisely sure how pollywogs and -wiggles arrived – maybe a Great Blue Heron flew overhead and dropped the Wigglet down the smoke-hole! Why her mummy couldn't eat until the bundle arrived was a mystery, but Jillyweed knew for sure that she would need lots of fresh eel stew very very soon, when her new pollywiggle – and she knew it was a wiggle – brother got there.
And then, finally, Jilly would have someone to go adventuring with! Just like Lady Jill from her dad's adventures! "Can I go exploring with the new pollywiggle right away?"
"Not for a very, very, very long time," predicted Puddleglum gloomily.
Jillyweed was not so easily discouraged; that was just Dad's way. "Do you think it will have Mummy's hair?"
"Like as not it won't."
"Tell me again what you said to Mummy when you went on your first fish together!"
Puddleglum sighed. "I told her," he said in his gloomiest tone, "that she had the greenest hair this side of the Shribble."
Jillyweed giggled. She had Mummy's greeny hair too.
"It's not funny," said Puddleglum seriously. "Too much bobance and bounce – it's not natural for a wiggle." His tall black hat wobbled as he shook his head and cast a mournful glance at her. "Sometimes I wonder, young Jillyweed…too much fricasseed frog in my younger days…"
"Yum!" Jillyweed loved fricasseed frog; Mummy would only let her have it on her hatchday and very special occasions. Maybe they could have some tonight. She could catch the frogs – she was good at that, being so full of "bobance and bounce" as they all told her – and after all, wasn't the arrival of a new Wigglet a very special occasion?
But first, she had to think of a name for it. "Can Eustace be a wiggle name?" Jillyweed wondered aloud. She thought it would be very fitting for her fellow adventurer to also be named after the Human children who had helped Dad. But Eustace was such a tricky name. Eustacequag? Eustacereed? Eustaslough? These were all terrible.
Puddleglum agreed. "Poor old Scrubb, even he didn't deserve that name. That fellow always did put a brave face on it. Shouldn't wonder if he met a horrible end of it on the other side."
Scrubb! Of course! "Glummyscrub," she announced proudly. "For you and Eustace."
"Any Marsh-wiggle with that name," said Puddleglum, "would very likely be too frolicsome to live long. And though I don't suppose the name matters much, we should give the pollywiggle a fighting shot, even if it does turn out like me. Flighty," he concluded glumly.
Jillyweed was already considering her favorite Wiggles from the old stories. There was Peaterbleak the Woebegone (who lost his best hat fighting Ettins at the bridge), Muskegflood the first Ferry-wiggle (who was prepared for the flood to end all floods), and Drizzlegrim the Nearly-Lost Archer (who almost didn't come back from the World's End with the crew of the Dawn Treader). There was also Brackenslog, the greatest eel-catcher in history until she was shocked to death by one unexpectedly electric variety, and Hammockdrear, who grew the most wonderful swampflower garden around her wigwam despite getting flooded every rainy season. But those were Marsh-wogs, as Jillyweed liked to call them, using the old term for Lady-wiggles. And she was sure this Wigglet would be a pollywiggle.
But oh! She was forgetting the best one of all. "Dad!" exclaimed Jillyweed breathlessly. "Tell me about Foggybog again!"
She just had to hear the story one more time. She heard it at least once a week. Thistlefen was sure it would come to no good, no good whatsoever, to hear that story so often. Jilly knew better. And Puddleglum always gave in with a very gusty sigh and repeated the tale she knew by heart now.
"Well, we're not likely to catch any eels today," said Puddleglum. "Might as well hear something that will cheer us up. Make the best of it."
"Goody!" Jillyweed clapped her hands in glee, and in the process dropped her pole into her lap. Bother. It was just as she had expected. But with less eels. And she did manage to grab the pole back without any help from her dad.
Puddleglum uncleared his throat to a proper garling croak. "I know of a tale," he began in the traditional start to a wiggle story, " – but you probably won't want to hear it."
"I suppose I'll listen; better than smoke in the wigwam," recited Jillyweed enthusiastically.
"You won't like it much if I tell it," warned Puddleglum as the response demanded. "I don't know anyone who does." Jilly was mouthing the oft-repeated introduction as he said it; the rhythm was almost like the poetry in the Faun-books, just less pretty. "But if you are quite braced for disappointment, I'll tell you about Foggybog the Frippilous."
Jillyweed gave a happy sigh.
"…tucked them in his hat, and set off for the south." Puddleglum fell silent here and stared off across the reedy marsh, puffing on his pipe like a smoke-filled wigwam.
That was the ending; it wasn't much of an ending, but that was how it always ended, and that was enough for Jillyweed. She wriggled happily, kicking her legs against the bank, muddying her shoes. "Foggybog sure was a great Wiggle, wasn't he, Dad?"
"If you call soggy wigwams and terrible rhymes great," muttered Puddleglum.
"Oh! Oh! Oh!" Jillyweed couldn't keep herself from screaming in delight. "A tug! I got a tug, Dad! Foggybog was good luck! Oops, I should be counting to three, shouldn't I? One…"
"It's been three by now," said Puddleglum, shaking his head. "And it'll probably be a mud-trout, see if it isn't. Careful now, nice and tight on the line…"
"Here I go!" Jillyweed flicked the pole sharply up, just the way her Dad had showed her. A great big wriggly eel went flying overhead and up onto the bank before her. Jillyweed jumped up and crowed in delight.
"Steady now, old chap," said Puddleglum. "Hold this." He handed his own pole to Jillyweed, who obediently sat once more and glanced over her shoulder, watching Puddleglum set to work. After capturing the writhing creature and dispatching it quickly, he dumped it in the bucket, still puffing away on his pipe.
"It could have been much, much worse," Puddleglum admitted, surveying the find.
"Dad! DAD! ANOTHER ONE!" Jillyweed almost dropped the pole in her excitement. "Quick, take it, I'll probably botch it up!"
"I'll probably botch it up," predicted Puddleglum, but he took the pole and reeled in yet another massive eel. Jillyweed clapped gleefully. They would have a cauldron full of eel stew in no time at all!
The pollywiggle was finally here. Jillyweed was almost beside herself with anticipation. She had stirred the stew at least three dozen times while waiting to finally be allowed inside the wigwam.
She had no idea what the pollywiggle would look like. The Wiggle families nearby all had sprouts her own age, or a little younger. There had been no new pollywogs or -wiggles lately; Mummy said it was the late rains, they made for terrible hatching seasons. Jillyweed was sure, based on her knowledge of other young Wigglets, that she would get a brother who was the perfect size for adventuring. He could still fold up into small spaces, but would have long enough legs to keep up with her skips. Yes, she was in for good times now, for sure!
At last, after waiting nearly forever, Puddleglum said she could come in! She raced down the marsh-path to the door, chanting, "Time to go on ADVENTURES! Time to go on ADVENTURES!"
She popped through the doorframe of the wigwam and stopped short. Her mummy was on the rush mat, eating a bowl of the eel stew with three empty bowls beside her – Puddleglum had said she would be hungry! But where was the pollywiggle? Jillyweed peered all around the hut. No sign of any adventurers.
Thistlefen sighed. "You're looking for your brother, no doubt. Over there. Dreadfully small, he is. I knew the rains came too late this year…"
She pointed to a bucket sitting in the corner near her. Filled with curiosity, Jillyweed crept over to where she pointed and peered into the bucket. She frowned. What on earth was THAT?
For swimming in the brackish water was a BLOB with a TAIL. A greenish-grayish blob, with two tiny sprouts near the tail. This was terribly confusing. "Where's the pollywiggle?" she asked doubtfully.
"That's him," said Thistlefen mournfully. "Small, ain't he? I'm afraid there's nothing to be done, but let 'im grow."
Jillyweed covered her mouth in horror. Then…then…no adventures. She couldn't possibly take this blob-with-a-tail on any adventures with her! And Dad would never let her go alone! "This is TERRIBLE!" she wailed.
"I know," said Thistlefen, nodding. "But what can you do?"
Jilly had never been so disappointed in her entire life. She ran out of the wigwam, straight into the arms of Puddleglum. "There, there, old chap," he said, patting her back awkwardly. "Stiff upper lip. Must make the best of it."
"But Dad, have you SEEN the pollywiggle? It's – it's – "
"It's a pollywiggle," said Puddleglum, shrugging. "He'll grow. I suppose it'll take a while to get all his arms and legs. You grew like a reed. They all start out like that. He'll get big soon enough. No reason to cry, see?"
Jillyweed thought hard about this new information. "I guess I can wait then," she sniffed. "But I wanted to go on adventures soon. And he's not good for much right now, is he?"
Puddleglum agreed with her. "Not much. There's just one thing pollywogs and –wiggles are good at."
"What's that?" Jillyweed looked up hopefully.
"Swimming," sighed Puddleglum. Most Wiggles, after all, would rather float all the way down the Shribble than swim a lick.
Jillyweed grinned broadly. She loved swimming. Maybe she and the pollywiggle could have some adventures after all. "I'm glad Foggybog's here!" she said, squeezing Puddleglum and skipping back down the path. She had some frogs to catch. They'd be sure to let her have fricasseed frog tonight!
Puddleglum just shook his head after her. Too much bobance and bounce.
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Date: 2013-01-07 03:49 pm (UTC)My absolute favorite lines, though, were these:
"Dad! DAD! ANOTHER ONE!" Jillyweed almost dropped the pole in her excitement. "Quick, take it, I'll probably botch it up!"
"I'll probably botch it up," predicted Puddleglum That's just Puddleglum and Wiggles ALL OVER. It's great.
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Date: 2013-01-08 01:38 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-01-08 03:18 am (UTC)And you included Drizzlegrim!!
You are buidling your own canon and it is awesome
This was just lovely and so much fun. The whole worldbuilding with the wiggles and their wogs and little tadpoles and yes, it would be devastating to poor Jillyweed to find a pollywog for a brother!
I so enjoyed the spirit of this and the humor.