'Madame!' mooed Horace,'Could you please take a bit more care as to where you are putting your hooves?!'
'Sorry,' replied Norma and she shifted a bit to the left.
'Careful!' called out Bertha, 'I almost fell off!'
'Sorry,' replied Norma and she shifted a bit to the right.
'Ow!' said Horace, 'Honestly! I am a poet not a stepladder!'
Norma, Horace and Bertha were looking for Ms Camille and 'er little students....they had not, so far, met with success.
'They must be around here somewhere!' said Bertha.
'I do wish I'd stuck with them,' replied Norma, who was feeling rather guilty.
'Well,' said Bertha,'I have to say I'm rather surprised at you.....falling for such an obvious trick!'
'It wasn't that obvious!' said Norma. 'I think it was perfectly possible that a team of fit young rowers had turned up at the pier to ask me to coach them!'
'Is this going to go on for much longer?' asked Horace who had started to turn even whiter than normal.
'Sorry,' said Norma.
'Oh that's OK!' replied Horace, 'it's not you, it's just...'
'Well if it's not Norma who is it then?' asked Bertha
'Well!' said Horace.
'Are you saying it's me?' shouted Bertha.
'Well!' said Horace.
'Are you saying I'm overweight?' said Bertha.
'Er!' said Horace.
And he tried to move away.
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