Tiny Ship, Big Puddle

Isla wanted to sail her tiny pirate ship all the way across the puddle by the garden gate.

The ship was no bigger than a shoe. It had a brown paper sail and a flag with a smiling skull. Isla called it the Biscuit.

"Off we go, Biscuit," she said. "Yo ho ho!"

She set it down at the edge. The Biscuit bobbed. Then it spun round and round and bumped right back to her toes.

"Again," said Isla.

She blew on the sail. Puff, puff, puff. The Biscuit wobbled a little and stopped. The puddle was too still and Isla's breath was too small.

A duck waddled up. He did not come to help. He came for the puddle, because ducks like puddles. He splashed in with a big flap-flap, and the water went slosh. Waves rolled out. The Biscuit tipped over on its side.

"Oh no, duck! Look what you did!"

The duck said, "Quack," and kept splashing.

Isla frowned. Then she watched the waves. They rolled away from the duck and across the whole puddle. The little ship rocked, and then it slid along on top of them.

"Oh!" she said. "The waves carry it."

So Isla did not blow. She picked up a small stick and tapped the water by the gate. Tap, tap, tap. Little waves ran out. The Biscuit sailed a bit. Tap, tap, tap. It sailed a bit more.

The duck stopped to watch. Then he flapped his wings, whoosh, and a big wave pushed the Biscuit the rest of the way.

It bumped the far edge, right beside a dandelion.

"Land ahoy!" cried Isla.

The duck gave a very loud quack and sat down in the middle of the puddle. The water rocked gently, and the Biscuit sat by the dandelion with its paper sail flapping, flap, and then still.