Mystery of Tally-Ho Cottage by Enid Blyton

I’m the cat’s whiskers and the dog’s tail and the kangaroo’s jump, and…’
    ‘Oh, Ern!’ said Bets, and joined in the laughter. Ern beamed. He did so love the Five to laugh at any of his jokes.
    ‘Ern, have you written any more poems?’ asked Bets. Ern was very fond of writing what he called ‘pomes’ but as he rarely got beyond the first three or four lines, they were not very successful.
    Ern pulled out a notebook, looking pleased. ‘Fancy you remembering my pomes,’ he said. ‘Well, I began one last week. It might be a good one - but I got stuck again.’
    ‘What is it?’ said Fatty, grinning. ‘Let me help you.’
    Ern read out his ‘pome’, putting on a very solemn voice.
    ‘A pore old woman had a dog,
    And it was always barkin,
    Its name was…’
    ‘Well, that’s as far as I’ve got,’ said Ern. ‘There’s all sorts of ideas swarming round in my head, but they just sort of won’t come out.’
    My dear Ern, it’s a fine poem,’ said Fatty earnestly. ‘Don’t you really know how it goes on? Listen!’
    Fatty stood in the middle of the room and recited in a voice exactly like Ern’s.
    ‘A pore old woman had a dog,
    And it was always barkin,
    Its name was Poppet, and of course
    The woman’s name was Larkin.
    She sniffed and coughed the whole day long,
    And said the wind was nippin,
    And when the dog got in her way
    She handed out a whippin.
    Her husband shuffled in an out,
    He wasn’t very supple,
    They weren’t at all what you might call
    A really pleasant couple!’
    Fatty stopped to take breath. Ern had listened in the greatest awe. The others laughed in delight. Fatty could go on like this for ages, without stopping. It was one af the many extraordinary things he could do.
    ‘Coo!’ said Ern. ‘How do you do it, Fatty? Why, that’s just what I wanted to say in my pome but I got stuck. You’re a wonder, Fatty!’
    ‘Oh, that was just a lot of nonsense,’ said Fatty, feeling much better.
    ‘It wasn’t. It was simply marvellous,’ said Ern. ‘I must write it all down - but it’s really your pome now, not mine, Fatty.’
    ‘No, it’s yours,’ said Fatty generously. ‘I don’t want it. I’d never have thought of it if you hadn’t told me the first three lines. You can have it for your very own, Ern.’
    Ern was delighted - and, for the next twenty minutes he didn’t join in any of the fun. He was most laboriously writing out his new ‘pome’.

A QUIET TWO DAYS
    There was nothing more in the papers about the ‘strange foreigner’. In fact, as far as Fatty could see, there was no mention of the Lorenzo case at all. He was rather relieved.
    For two days the Five led perfectly normal lives, with Ern and Buster following them around. The Lorenzo mystery wasn’t even mentioned, except that Ern volunteered the information that the twins were getting rather tired of the treehouse.
    ‘You see, it’s been windy, and their things keep falling out of the tree when the wind shakes it,’ explained Ern. ‘And they got annoyed because I wouldn’t let them blow bubbles over the Larkins’ cottage.’
    ‘Blow bubbles over the cottage?’ said Fatty, in surprise. ‘But why should they want to? The bubbles would burst at once, anyhow.’
    ‘Not the kind they’ve got,’ said Ern. ‘They aren’t ordinary soap-bubbles - you make the mixture, and blow the bubbles - and they come out very big and strong - they can bump into things without breaking, so they go on flying about for ages.’
    ‘I see,’ said Fatty, having a sudden vision of Mr. and Mrs. Larkin being surrounded by big, bouncing bubbles every time they put their noses out of doors. ‘Well - it does sound a most tempting thing to do, I must say - but you’d better restrain the twins at present, anyway. The treehouse spy-hole would certainly be discovered if they start anything like that.’
    ‘I’ve told them not to do it,’ said Ern. ‘But they’re not all that obedient, Fatty. They keep on and on about it. When they first thought of it they almost fell out of the tree with laughing.’
    ‘Yes.