Agatha Armitage: "What an impudent observation! I'm not cold at all!"

Featuring compulsive juggling, a dolphin and the iceberg king.

Dear Friend,

It really was not acceptable in the slightest for me to end where I did. I am not surprised to hear that you spent the evening eating raw beetroot in a blanket-fort to help calm your racing thoughts.

In truth, Chelsea is completely safe, and (indeed) currently perfecting a new pair of roller-flip-flops (why, might I ask, did you assume she was an expert in chelsea boots of all things? I don’t know WHERE you got that from!).

But she might not have been okay if it had not been for the king on the iceberg.

You might remember that I had lowered the sails, and when one lowers the sails, the ship will usually stop (unless, that is, there is a back-up hamster-powered engine below deck, which is more common than you would think).

“Why have we stopped?!” yelled Penny from the dining room, where the Cobblers were still congratulating their soon-to-be-Broadway-Star shoes. “Miss Owlledge, do you know anything about this?”

I tried to say no, but I am not naturally good at lying. People who know me well know that when I lie, I cannot help myself from juggling with whatever objects are closest. This is how Penny found herself being juggled overhead with a snow boot and a bottle of mouthwash.

“Miss Owlledge, put me down!” Penny cried. “I am not wearing the appropriate footwear!”

If I wanted to put her down, however, I would have to tell her the truth.

“I’m sorry,” I called up, still juggling furiously.

That is when we heard a cry from a neighbouring glacier.

“Who is that trespassing on my land!”

I knew from the moment that I saw him that he was a king. This is because he was wearing a crown, and, according to the thousands of fairytales I have read in my time, kings always wear crowns, even when they are skydiving and have been warned that the points are something of a safety hazard.

The man wore a thin piece of muslin as a cloak, and a bright green beard which, judging by the texture, was not made from human hair but from seaweed. He was shivering uncontrollably.

“You look quite cold, your Highness,” I observed.

“What an impudent observation!” the king called out. “I am not cold at all!”

His teeth chattered, which made me think he was probably a better liar than I was.

“Kings like me don’t feel the cold,” he declared. “I am actually exceptionally warm.”

To make his point, he released his muslin cloak into the freezing cold wind, which seemed like proof to me. He shivered even more after that, but maybe he was shivering from the warmth.

“Declare to me, subjects — who are you and why do you trespass on my land?”

(I am still unsure as to whether a glacier counts as land or sea? What do you think? I tried to ponder this with the king, but he got quite upset and threatened to confiscate my pond vials on account of treason).

“We are the Cobblers,” Penny said (who, it must be admitted, was still part of my juggling display). “The best Cobblers in all of the world.”

The King looked contemplative, and stroked his seaweed beard demurely (well, PARTIALLY demurely… it did, admittedly, fall from his face when he touched it, likely because seaweed is slippery and not the best material for a beard).

“So I suppose you have some crumble on your ship?” he said.

The Cobblers looked confused, and I myself was so bewildered that I dropped the mouthwash, snowboot and Penny to the floor. Thankfully, however, Kyle Heel was American, and able to translate. As it turns out, a American COBBLER is not a shoe-maker at all, but a dessert a little like a crumble (why they didn’t just call it a crumble, I cannot say).

“A peach cobbler would be particularly agreeable,” the king continued.

The Cobblers were very offended by this, mostly because Penny is allergic to peaches.

The sails were raised, as the Cobblers decided they must continue on their courses. This was until the Penny Loafer chimed in (NOT my friend Penny, but the actual shoe. Apparently shoes can talk, which is why the Cobblers hold shoes to their ears every time they make a decision. The penny loafer is the wisest of the shoes, but also the only one which insists on being paid for their time with a coin). The loafer must have liked the king because the Cobblers insisted that the shivering king with the seaweed beard be brought onboard the ship.

More soon — it’s time for dinner!

Your friend,

Agatha

P.S. I should say that, at some point during this ordeal, Chelsea appeared on the back of a bottlenose dolphin and thankfully made it back on board.