It was a Tuesday morning and everyone in the office was feeling cheerful. Howard was humming a tune and reading a magazine. Purvis and Mickey Thompson were playing a game and eating crisps. And Ortrud the very small elephant was frolicking, knocking things over.
âThat was close,â said Mickey Thompson.
âYes,â said Howard. âEver so.â
âHow long do you think heâll be gone?â asked Purvis.
âWho can tell?â said Howard. âI heard heâs been told by his doctor to have a long rest. Heâs suffering from Nervous Exhaustion.â
Purvis gasped and Mickey Thompson dropped his bag of crisps. âQuite,â said Howard.
âAre you sure?â asked Purvis.
âI have it on good authority,â said Howard.
âGosh,â said Mickey Thompson. âNervous Exhaustion, eh?â
âBit of a shock, isnât it?â said Howard, flicking through his magazine.
âYes,â chorused the mice.
âI wouldnât have thought it, would you?â said Howard.
âNo,â chorused the mice.
Howard resumed his humming and the mice exchanged glances. Mickey Thompson r>aised an eyebrow at Purvis, and Purvis shrugged. Mickey Thompson prodded Purvis, and Purvis coughed.
âEr, Howard?â said Purvis.
âMmm?â said Howard.
âWhatâs Nervous Exhaustion
âHazard a wild guess,â said Howard.
âFeeling nervous?â hazarded Purvis.
âAnd?â said Howard.
âExhausted,â said Purvis.
âExactly,â said Howard.
Mickey Thompson selected a crisp and ate it, worriedly.
âSo what youâre saying,â he said, âis heâs spooked and pooped.â
âIf you must,â said Howard.
âPoop
poopedy pooped,â
said Mickey Thompson, loudly, and Ortrud started trumpeting.
âEnough,â said Howard.
âBut it isnât like him,â said Purvis. âMr Bullertonâs normally so⦠soâ¦â
âBossy,â said Mickey Thompson.
âYes,â said Howard, âandâ¦â
âShouty,â said Purvis.
âYes,â said Howard, âandâ¦â
âS t o m p y,âsaid Mickey Thompson.
âYes,â said Howard, âandâ¦â
âAngry,â said Purvis.
Howard thumped the magazine down on the desk.
âAnd,â he said.
âAnd what, Howard?â asked Purvis.
âAnd now I canât remember what I wanted to say,â said Howard.
âHeâs getting forgetful,â muttered Mickey Thompson, to Purvis.
âWhat?â said Howard.
âItâs a symptom,â said Mickey Thompson.
âWhat is?â said Howard.
âForgetfulness,â said Mickey Thompson, cheerfully. âYouâre growing elderly.â
âWHAT!â shouted Howard.
âWe were discussing Mr Bullerton,â explained Purvis.
âI know we were,â said Howard. âI am well aware of that, thank you very much, and I am NOT forgetful.â
âOf course not, Howard,â said Purvis.
âIâm a young man in the prime of life,â said Howard.
âYes, Howard,â said Purvis, rummaging for tea bags. âBut what do you think caused it? The Nervous Exhaustion, I mean.â
âI donât know,â said Howard, âbut I expect I shall get the blame, as usual.â
âMaybe we should make him a get well card,â suggested Mickey Thompson.
âMaybe we shouldnât,â said Howard. âIâve been given strict instructions to leave him alone, in peace and quiet.â
Purvis handed Howard a cup of tea, and Howard brightened.
âAnd Iâll tell you what,â he continued. âWhile Mr Bullertonâs away, I intend to enjoy some peace and quiet of my own.â
âTRUMPET!â
trumpeted Ortrud, crashing into a rubber plant.
âTut,â said Howard, as the rubber plant narrowly missed him. âWhatâs wrong with Ortrud? Whyâs she hurtling?â
âIâm not sure,â said Purvis.
âWhy are you hurtling, Ortrud?â
Ortrud tooted , and hurtled faster.
âLOOK OUT, HOWâ Whoops, too late,â said Mickey Thompson, as Ortrud smashed into a cupboard, and the cupboard landed on Howard.
âHarrumph,â said Howard, extricating himself. âWhat this elephant needs is fresh air and exercise.â
âShall I open the window?â offered Purvis.
âThat wonât be nearly airy enough for this situation,â said Howard, taking a gulp of tea. âI think weâd better take the day off and go out somewhere.â
âHURRAY!â cheered Mickey Thompson, bouncing.
âWhere shall we go?â said Purvis, hopping. âWhere? Where?â
âWhere do you fancy?â said Howard.
âSeaside?â suggested Purvis.
âToo salty,â said Howard.
âCountryside?â suggested Purvis.
âToo muddy,â said Howard.
âA woodland walk?â suggested Purvis.
âToo woody,â said Howard.
âOoh. Ooh,â said Mickey Thompson, waving his hand in the air.
âYes, Mickey Thompson?â said Howard.