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Good manners are an important

part of daily life.


Written by: Stephen Cosgrove
Illustrated by: Robin J runes

PRICE STERN SLOAN


L os Ang e l es
Copyright ©1989 by Price Stem Sloan, Inc.
Published by Price Stem Sloan, Inc.
360 North La Cienega Boulevard, Los Angeles, California 90048

Printed in the United States of America. All rights reserved. No part of this
publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted, in
any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or
otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publishers.

ISBN: 0-8431-2739-2

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

Serendipity"' and Grumpllng are trademarks or Price Stern Sloan, Inc.

Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 89-60559


To Jim and Louise Collins, the original
Buttermilk and Grumpling. May they live
forever in the land of Amenity.

Stephen
On the island of Serendipity, not far from
the princess's castle, was a land called
Amenity. Amenity was a gentle place. A proper
place, if you would, where the Please Trees
rustled in the breeze that blew the pollen from
the Urwelcome Weeds.

It was a polite land where bunnies hopped about


in bow ties and top hats as others rustled about
in lace shawls and bonnets.
One of the bunnies that lived here was called
Buttermilk. She was very polite and her
manners were impeccable. She always carried a
hanky to stifle her sniffles and she only smelled,
never picked, the roses that grew in great
profusion.

Buttermilk was the pride of all and the essence


of Amenity as she politely said, "Excuse me," if
she hiccoughed or burped.
Every afternoon at a quarter of three, all of the
creatures that lived in Amenity stopped their
busy bodies and gathered about stumps and logs
draped with lace-edged doilies. There they
would sip a bit of dandelion tea and munch upon
caramel crumpets and sugar crumb cookies.

They would politely speak of the weather or


whether the owl would fly that moonlit night.
Ah, all seemed perfectly polite in the land of
Amenity.

But all was not perfect in Amenity, nor were all


the creatures polite. For every afternoon at a
quarter of three, just as tea was set and made
cozy for drinking, there came the Grumpling.
The Grumpling was an uncivilized bear of
monstrous proportions, with_ a jutting jaw and a
knitted brow. His hair seemed cast of wire and
never, never was combed or parted. He wore
about his neck a tattered scarf that was rarely
tied properly, if at all. The scarf, stuck here and
there with bits of leaves and smudges of last
night's supper, always trailed behind him as he
stomped down the trail.
He always showed up at a quarter of three, and
though he never drank the tea, he would eat the
cookies- all of the cookies- and crumpets,
finger sandwiches and after-tea mints. He
probably would have eaten the doilies, but they
were made of yarn and hardly digestible, even
for the Grumpling.

When finished, he would grumble about not


having had enough to eat, and wipe his mouth
on his scarf. Then, without a "thank you" or a
"by your leave," he would belch a rumbling
belch that shook birds from the trees, and off he
would grump down the trail.

None of the creatures of Amenity said anything,


so polite were they. They. would calmly pour
their tea and pretend as if nothing had happened
at all- although a lot happened indeed.
One day Buttermilk had finally taken all that she .
could take. It was bad enough that she had
baked anq baked the night before, making a
dozen or more of the most scrumptuous .
crumpets, the mouth-wat~ring kind, only to see
the Grumpling stuff them all in his mouth. It
was bad enough that she had made batches of
cookies and two or three delightful little cakes,
only to fin~ that the Grumpling had eaten them
all in one single bite. But when he didn't say
"thank you" or even "they tasted great, Miss
Buttermilk, ma'am," Buttermilk got angry,
downright mad, if you please. She decided right
then and there to tame that ill-mannered beast if
it was the last thing she did.
She rushed home to her burrow and there, after
tying her apron of ruffly ruffles firmly around
her waist, she whisked and whipped this and
that the whole night through. For Buttermilk
realized that nobody had ever formally set a tea
table for the Grumpling, or even actually
invited him for that matter. She would bake the
best of the best and invite the Grumpling for tea.
Surely then he would be polite.

She stirred up a batch of her most special crisp


crumbly crumpets and popped them in the
oven. She ground broomwood seeds, oat and
bran into a fine flour that she mixed with button
berries and marmalade. All of this was plopped
into biscuit molds and this, too, was popped
into the oven.
.The very next day at a quarter of three,
Buttermilk set up for tea right in the middle of
the trail from whence would come the
Grumpling. She laid down her fresh lace doilies
and upon the~ she set her best tea cozy, saucer
and cups. She laid out dainty little sandwiches
and the sweet biscuits of broomwood seed. She
set two places at her table; one for the
Grumpling and one for herself. At the
Grumpling's plate she set a formal invitation
which she had written in the finest cursive
lettering on linen paper with hand-cut frills.

When all was set and ready, she sat down prim
and proper and waited for the scrubby lout
himself-_ the Grumpling. It wasn't long before
she heard saucers rattling and saw crumbs
flying as the Grumpling fed himself rudely on
others' polite food.

It was but a moment before the crude beast was


upon her table, ready to ravage her food. He had
only taken a bite or two before she rose and said,
"Excuse me, Mr. Grumpling, sir, but won't you
sit down and enjoy tea with me like a gentleman
should?"
The Grumpling just looked at her with jam on
his face and muttered, "Whazzafrashur?" As he
spoke, Buttermilk was showered with a spray of
crumpet crumbs and cookie bits.

"I said," she said firmly but primly, "that you


have been invited and you shall sit down like a
gentleman and sip tea in a civilized manner or
you shan't eat any more of my crumpets."
The Grumpling looked at her, shocked was he.
Then he shook his head in a disdainful·way and
proceeded to eat all there was to eat, including
the invitation, and this time he even ate the
doilies! As he ate, Buttermilk stood boldly in
the center of the path.

"You rude, inconsiderate beast," she said, as


her foot tapped in a staccato manner on the
cobbled path.

The Grumpling just looked at her with a bit of


jam still on his nose and belched the rudest
burp. Then he started on his way as was his
wont, but Buttermilk refused to move.

"I will not move from this spot until you


apologize and at least say 'thank you!' " she
said, daring him to pass. ·

Without a thought, without a care, the


Grumpling roughly brushed past the poor little
·rabbit, rudely bumping her out of the way.
Poor, poor Buttermilk. She had tried so hard.
She had baked and baked and set the nicest
table, but still the Grumpling was as rude as he
could be. Tears began to stream down her
cheeks as she cried and cried, so frustrated was
she.

But the Grumpling didn't go on as he had in the


past. He stopped fast in his tracks as the little
bunny was racked with sobs.

He stomped back to where she sat in the moss,


and while shuffling from one foot to the other,
mumbled, "Oh, uh, well, don't cry, Miss
Buttermilk, ma'am. I am sorry. I didn't mean to
hurt you."
And the forest rang with his apology, for it was
the first polite thing the Grumpling had ever
done. He reached down, and with the only clean
spot on his scarf, he wiped away her tears.

"You see, ma'am, I just don't know how to be


polite. Nobody ever showed me, and I never
have been invited. I didn't mean to hurt your
feelings."

It was then and only then that Buttermilk


realized that the Grumpling didn't mean to be
impolite. For how could one be impolite when
one didn't know right from wrong. She began to
see the Grumpling in a new polite light.

The Grumpling helped her to her feet and


Buttermilk asked courteously, ''If someone
would help you, would you be willing to learn
the polite way, the right way, to carry yourself
in the land of Amenity?"

"Oh, yes ma'am," said he in a low, rumbling


voice.

Hand in hand, they set off down the cobbled


path to Buttermilk's burrow in the woods.
From that day forward, Buttermilk and the
Grumpling were the fas test of friends. She
taught him _how to lay his napkin on his lap and
not to wrap it around his neck. She taught him
how and when to say "please" and "thank you."
She even washed his scarf with soap and bleach,
pressed it flat and pleated it. The Grumpling
even learned to tie it in a rakish way, a polite and
proper sort of thing to do when you have tea at a
quarter of three.

For in the rudest of people there is always


convention, if we would only take time to teach
it.
AS YOU LIVE AND AS YOU GROW
IN THE LAND OF AMENITY
BE POLITE AND GRACIOUS, TOO,
AND YOU NEVER WILL
A GRUMPLING BE.
Written by Stephen Cosgrove
Illustrated by Robin James

Enjoy all the delightful books in the Serendipity Series:


BANGALEE LITILE MOUSE ON THE PRAIRIE
BUTTERMILK MAUI-MAUI
BUTTERMILK BEAR MEMILY
CATUNDRA MING LING
CRABBY GABBY MINIKIN
CREOLE MISTY MORGAN
CRICKLE-CRACK MORGAN AND ME
DRAGOUN MORGAN AND YEW
THE DREAM TREE MORGAN MINE
FANNY MORGAN MORNING
FEATHER FIN THE MUFFIN MUNCHER
FLUTIERBY MUMKIN
FLUTIERBY FLY NITI'ER PITIER
GABBY PERSNICKITY
GL11TERBY BABY PISH POSH
THE GNOME FROM NOME POPPYSEED
GRAMPA-LOP RAZ-MA-TAZ
THE GRUMPLING RHUBARB
HUCKLEBUG SASSAFRAS
JINGLE BEAR SERENDIPITY
KARTUSCH SNIFFLES
KIYOMI SQUEAKERS
LEO THE LOP TICKLE' S TALE
LEO THE LOP TAIL TWO TRAPPER
LEO THE LOP TAIL THREE WHEEDLE ON THE NEEDLE
ZIPPITY ZOOM

The above books, and many others, can be bought wherever books
are sold, or may be ordered directly from the publisher.

360 North La Cienega Boulevard, Los Angeles, California 90048


Dobin James & ~tephen Cos8rove

Serendipity books have warmed the hearts of young and old for over a
decade, becoming classics in children's literature. Each beloved tale
teaches youngsters how to deal with the challenges of their world, provid-
ing them with positive solutions to difficult problems.
Join the whimsical characters in this beautifully illustrated collection of
over forty books as they entertain and inspire every reader.

PRICE STERN SLOAN


Los Ange l es

$2.50
ISBN 0-8431-2739-2 Canada $3.50

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