brand-new tricycle

The yellow Vauxhall car careered into the compound parking quietly and gently just outside the concrete garage. Morris watched keenly as his father descended from the saloon car. Amadu, the Fula servant, was quick to make himself available. Together with his master, he opened the back boot.

"Take this upstairs. Ah, look out! Handle it carefully," Amadu obediently and carefully took the big box out and laid it carefully on the concrete floor. He then rushed back to close the steel gate.

"What is it, Daddy?" asked Morris, who for some time now had been looking at the box curiously and expectantly.

"Let's go upstairs," his father said, holding his hand.proudly and lovingly.

"You think I don't know? I know what it is. You think I don't know."

"Come on. Just you wait and see," Morris's dad was already leading him into the house.

"Daddy, Daddy! Why not show Mummy? She'll be happy to see that you've bought it so soon."

"Bought what?" the mother asked.

"Your sewing machine. Daddy's just bought it."

"Don't mind the braggart, Margery. It's a tricycle I've bought him and that has ..."

"Thank you! Thank you Daddy for that! Thanks very much!" He was now skipping all over the place and around him in excitement and jubilation. "You're indeed a darling."

"Enough of that now, Morris. Let's take a peep, John." Margery opened the box as her increasingly frisky son, Morris, watched eagerly. She brought out the tricycle. Everyone admired it. It was brand-new, red and as glossy as a new mirror. "It's English made. Must be very good and durable. English bicycles are always very good."

"That's precisely why I bought it," the father said with pride. Morris smiled approvingly at him. It was indeed strong and satisfying.

"But Morris, I hope you'll take good care of it. Don't be rough with it, you hear?"

"I promise you, Mum. I'll be very careful with it. You wait and see."

The shiny red tricycle brought him much joy. When next his cousins, Kunle, Dayo and Michael, visited them Morris was loud and boastful: "Come and see my brand-new tricycle." In no time he had brought out the wooden box. The moving machine satisfied their eager eyes.

"It's a good toy, this one," Kunle said.

"This was the one Uncle Bisor in America promised to send me on my next birthday," said Dayo, the youngest.

"You think Uncle Bisor ever remembers promises? I'm sure he's already forgotten."

"In any case we can now ride Morris's which is here with us."

"Let's take it down." They lifted the machine out of the box, their hands shaking with excitement. They placed it on the floor. Each took turns on it round the extensive paved compound surrounding the house.