by Nette Hilton
Table of Contents
D’Lila LaRue and the Rose Garden
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
D’Lila LaRue and the Jungle Book Theatre
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
D’Lila LaRue and the Art Class
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Acknowledgements
About the Author
D’Lila LaRue lived in the smallest house with the neatest fence and the rosiest garden in the street. She lived with her mummy and daddy who were VERY IMPORTANT PEOPLE and that meant they were VERY BUSY and NOT TO BE DISTURBED, especially when they were going away.
Right now, all the gardens in the street were rosy but D’Lila’s was the best.
She knew it was.
Last year it had won first place in The Rosiest Garden in the Street Award.
“We want to win again this year,” said D’Lila’s mum, who was extremely famous and getting ready to go ON THE ROAD again. “Look after those roses, Nanny.”
“You too, D’Lila,” said Dad. He loaded his guitar into the van. He was going on the road too.
Nanny-Anny wasn’t going. She always, always stayed with D’Lila. It was her job.
And D’Lila’s job was to DO AS SHE WAS TOLD and KEEP AN EYE ON EVERYTHING.
That’s what Nanny said anyhow.
“Wave goodbye,” Nanny said.
D’Lila did.
She waved until the car went all the way down the hill. And then she waved at a family coming up the hill. She waved at a man taking his van for a delivery. And she waved at Mrs Next Door who was weeding her rose garden. Richard the Beagle was helping.
“We’re going to weed our roses too,” said D’Lila.
“Good,” said Mrs Next Door. “Are you going in the competition this year?”
“You bet,” said D’Lila. “We’re going to win first prize again. Aren’t we, Nanny-Anny?”
“Don’t count your chickens before they’re hatched,” said Nanny.
“We haven’t got any chickens,” said D’Lila.
“It means that somebody else might win,” said Mrs Next Door. She looked over the fence at the lovely creamy white roses in D’Lila’s garden. “But I don’t think it will be me.”
The roses nodded their heads.
Mrs Next Door’s roses also nodded. Only their heads drooped a little as if they were sad about not being good enough.
Mrs Next Door looked a little droopy too.
“Never mind,” said D’Lila. “Perhaps this year there will be two first prizes, then we could both have one.”
Nanny-Anny hurried D’Lila inside. “Two first prizes indeed,” she said. “Whoever heard of such a thing?”
The next day, as soon as the sun came up, Nanny-Anny and D’Lila went into the garden. They had on their hats and their gardening gloves. Nanny had a little bottle of her very best homemade spray.
“Stand back,” said Nanny. “I’m going to spray these bugs.”
The bugs were little and green and very, very busy.
“I’ll catch them,” said D’Lila. “Bugs are good fun.”
“Not for roses,” said Nanny-Anny.
“I can keep them in a jar on the window ledge in the laundry.”
Nanny-Anny said that was fine. So D’Lila set to work.
She collected sixty-seven green bugs and fourteen ladybirds. The ladybirds didn’t want to fly away home so they were put in their own jar. She found four worms in soggy soil and 142 ants. The ants were tricky and kept hurrying out of the top of their jar.
“Make sure they can’t get out,” said Nanny. “I wash the clothes in the laundry. I don’t want ants in my pants.”
D’Lila thought it would be funny if Nanny had ants in her pants. Nanny didn’t. The ants had to go back to the garden.
“What will we do with this spray?” said Nanny. “It’s a shame to waste it. There’re two red peppers and some of my best soap in there.” She shook the bottle. “I’m not sure if it will keep.”
D’Lila thought a little thought.
“Why don’t we spray a ‘No Bugs Please’ sign on the fence?”
Nanny tried.
But the breeze took the spray over the fence and onto Mrs Next Door’s roses.
D’Lila saw one, two, three, all the way to eighteen bugs run away from Mrs Next Door’s droopy red rosebuds.
“We don’t want them to run this way!” said D’Lila. “Spray harder, Nanny!”
Nanny tried.
But she started sneezing so hard, she had to stop.
“Enough for today,” she snuffled. “Tomorrow we’ll feed the roses.”
Mrs Next Door handed over a lemon-and-honey drink. “It’s good for sniffles,” she said.
The glass had roses painted on it. And so did Mrs Next Door’s apron.
“You really love roses, don’t you?” said D’Lila.
“I really do,” said Mrs Next Door. She picked off a dead rose petal and patted a pink bloom.
“Are you sure there’s never, ever two first prizes?” D’Lila asked as they ate their dinner that night.
“Sure as sure can be,” said Nanny.
But it would be nice, D’Lila thought, if Mrs Next Door could win as well.
The next morning D’Lila got some apples, some bread, some budgie seed that was left over, and some turnips. She put them all in a basket and went into the rose garden.
“Whatever are you doing?” Nanny-Anny asked.
“I’m feeding the roses,” said D’Lila. “But I don’t think this rose likes apples. It might like some budgie seed.”
Carefully, she poured some seed onto the rose petals.
Some seed went right into the middle. Some fell on the ground.
“Mmmm,” said D’Lila. “I don’t think roses like seed either.”
“And I’m pretty sure they won’t like turnips,” said Nanny.
D’Lila stood back. The rose looked a bit untidy. Its petals were not smooth anymore.
“I expect it will survive,” said Nanny. “Turnips, indeed.” She soothed the petals and they snugged back into place.
“Now,” said Nanny, as she set off for the garden shed, “I’ll be right back with some proper garden food.”
“And I’ll get some spoons,” D’Lila called. Perhaps roses slurped up their dinner like soup. “And bowls.”
“They’re roses,” said Nanny-Anny. “They eat through their roots.”
D’Lila looked at the ground.
“Their roots are way down there,” she said. “They eat with their feet?”
“They certainly do, D’Lila LaRue,” said Nanny. “Wait here while I get some from the shed.”
D’Lila waited. She pretended to be a hungry rose.
“Whatever are you doing?” said Nanny.
“I’m a hungry rose and I’m eating my dinner.”
Nanny wiped the hungry rose’s feet and said next time she wanted to be a hungry rose she should stand on the grass and not in the middle of the garden bed.
“Besides, we’ve run out of food,” she said. “Our roses will have to wait till tomorrow. We can go to the shop then.”
Wait till tomorrow?
All that time with a hungry tummy.
As if.
“What do they eat?” said D’Lil
a. “Maybe we could cook it ourselves.”
“Manure,” said Nanny-Anny.
Manure!
D’Lila couldn’t believe her ears. “I don’t think so,” she whispered. “Roses eat poo? Are you sure?”
“Sure as sure,” said Nanny-Anny and she set things in place in the shed. “Definitely manure.”
It was too much.
“Nanny-Anny!” said D’Lila in her serious voice. “Manure is poo. You can’t buy poo in a shop.”
“You buy it in little boxes. It is mixed with other things,” said Nanny. “It doesn’t smell good but roses like it.”
Poo in boxes?
“Is it always in a box?”
Nanny smiled. “No. Horse poo is good and it doesn’t come out of a box.”
As if.
“I knew that,” D’Lila said.
The roses nodded their heads. They looked as if they were listening. They looked a little bit hungry too.
D’Lila LaRue thought a little thought.
“Can we go to your brother Jim’s farm today?”
Nanny said walking around behind horses with a bucket wasn’t a fun way to spend the day.
D’Lila didn’t mind. Brother Jim said it was a wonderful idea. He even helped them. He filled four whole sacks and drove them back to D’Lila’s house in his ute. He said carrying horse manure on the town bus would be too smelly.
“Three buckets and four sacks,” sang D’Lila when they arrived home. “Open up rose petals. Here we come!”
Nanny-Anny took Jim inside for a cup of tea. “Won’t be long,” she called.
The roses looked hungry. They leaned their heads over to sniff the manure.
D’Lila felt sad for them. She lifted one bucket of manure and tipped it.
Oops!
A whole rosebush disappeared. D’Lila dug around. She found one rose flower and then another. They were a little bit squashed but they looked happy enough.
The next bucket was easier. This time most of the leaves disappeared and only a few roses were squashed.
The sacks were heavy and needed a harder push.
Boof! Over they went.
A whole row of rosebushes disappeared. Leaves and all.
D’Lila dug them out. It’s quicker this way, she thought. All she had to do was dump the manure on. Later she could dig the rosebushes out.
The roses would be fatter than ever sitting there wrapped up in manure, but those buckets were heavy and lifting them high enough to dump on the rosebushes was VERY HARD WORK.
D’Lila thought a little thought.
She climbed onto the little brick fence between Mrs Next Door’s and D’Lila’s houses.
D’Lila reached for a bag. She tugged and she tugged and she tugged and up it came WHOOSH and tipped over!
Right over the fence!
Right over the fence and onto the ground beneath Mrs Next Door’s rosebushes.
It took a little bit longer to uncover the rose bushes. The sun was on its way to night when they finally packed the tools away. They finally closed the door on their very own garden shed back in their very own garden.
“Thank goodness,” said Nanny-Anny.
The roses were a little squashed. They were a bit dirty and smelled funny. D’Lila and Nanny-Anny had helped Mrs Next Door dig the manure into the ground. “It’s all done.”
Nanny-Anny sneezed.
“Oh dear,” said Mrs Next Door. “That doesn’t sound good. I’ll get you another lemon-and-honey drink.”
D’Lila sent Nanny-Anny inside.
Nanny said no one was going inside until they’d rubbed and scrubbed all the dirt off.
Nanny’s sniffles didn’t rub off though.
D’Lila snuggled her up on the couch with a hot water bottle. “I hope you feel better by next week,” she said. “You want to be up and about for the Rose Garden Competition!”
Nanny-Anny and D’Lila tried.
They had hot drinks and cold drinks. They tried warm wraps and cool fans. They tried little walks around the house and sitting down in front of the telly.
They did everything they could but the sniffles and Nanny-Anny’s poor red nose stayed all week.
Mrs Next Door helped too. She made dinners and mid-morning snacks. She even phoned the doctor.
“In bed,” he said. “For two whole days!”
Mrs Next Door stayed. She said she didn’t mind. It was raining too hard for her to work in her garden anyhow.
It stopped raining on the day of the competition.
Nanny was too woozy to go outside. Her nose was still stuffy and red. Her head was still sore. “I don’t look my best,” she said.
Poor Nanny.
D’Lila felt worried. She wanted Nanny to be able to see the roses.
She thought a little thought.
“Am I allowed to take the scissors outside?” she called.
“Only the little ones.” Nanny coughed. “And be careful.”
D’Lila was.
She carefully cut one, two, three roses. There were plenty more for the judges to see.
Heaps.
So she carefully cut four, five, six roses. They looked pretty and smelled delicious.
Just a couple more and Nanny would be able to enjoy the roses as well as the judges.
“D’Lila LaRue! Stop that this minute!”
A judge stood by the gate. He was angry.
“What a bad girl. How dare you cut all those roses!”
D’Lila LaRue was never naughty. “There’re lots more.” She pointed them out. “And Nanny-Anny is too sick to see them.”
“Nanny-Anny is sick?” said the judge. “Well, I never.”
He was concerned. He hurried the final decision. “I must call in and make sure she is all right,” he said. “But first, I need to declare the winner.”
Mrs Next Door sat holding her trophy. It had roses on it. It had “First Prize” written inside the roses.
Nanny-Anny sat holding her roses. A huge bunch. They filled the lounge with perfume.
D’Lila sat next to the judge.
“Now,” said the judge, “I have one more prize to give out!”
He took a chocolate rose from his pocket. “This is the prize for the Rosiest Person in the Whole Street, and it goes to you, D’Lila!”
“Is it because I picked the roses?” said D’Lila. “Nanny-Anny said that people should never pick flowers without permission. It doesn’t seem right to get a prize for doing the wrong thing.”
“No!” said the judge. “It’s because you did your best to make someone else happy. Mrs Next Door told me that you sprayed the bugs for her. And you dumped the manure on the ground. Her roses grew and grew, thanks to you.”
“And you did your best to make Nanny-Anny happy,” said Mrs Next Door.
D’Lila wasn’t sure about the bugs. They must have read the sign on the fence. She was sure about the manure, though. It had taken ages to smooth it out, so it wouldn’t smell so bad.
“Second First Prize goes to you,” said the judge. “Congratulations!”
“Two first prizes.” D’Lila grinned. “Who would’ve thought, Nanny-Anny?”
Nanny-Anny hugged her. A big bear hug. “Oh, oh, oh, what am I going to do with you, Miss D’Lila, D’Lila LaRue?”
D’Lila LaRue wasn’t sure what was to be done. She thought about it for a little while and then let it be.
Tomorrow was another day and it was untouched and whatever was to be done, well, it would probably be done when they least expected it.
D’Lila LaRue lived in the smallest house with the neatest fence and the rosiest garden in the street.
She lived with her mummy and daddy who were VERY IMPORTANT PEOPLE and that meant they were VERY BUSY and NOT TO BE DISTURBED, or were ON THE ROAD AGAIN. D’Lila wasn’t sure what this was exactly, but it meant that it was just as well Nanny-Anny was there. She was probably very old but it didn’t matter.
She was always there.
Everything D’L
ila did Nanny did too. And everything that Nanny did D’Lila made sure she was right there to help her. It was her job.
Sometimes they worked around the house and tidied up and did some planting or went visiting art galleries and museums and city parks.
Soon, Nanny-Anny told D’Lila as they settled down to watch the “News” and the “Sports Report” and “Spicks on Sunday”, they were going shopping at the mall. “We need to buy some bath salts and a couple of new loofahs. And while we’re at it, I think we might top up the pantry as well.”
Topping up the pantry was a favourite. They chose all sorts of yummy things to make for dinner and supper and Sunday brunches.
“And most important of all,” Nanny-Anny said as she squashed the chocolates. Soft ones weren’t her favourite. “We have tickets to the theatre.”
“Oh, oh, oh!” D’Lila stretched her toes. The theatre was her favourite. Dancing and music and razzamatazz! She could hardly wait.
“And BOTHER!” It was such a sudden BOTHER that D’Lila nearly jumped out of her skin. Something must be wrong.
“What?”
“The trains aren’t running on our Jungle Book theatre day.” Nanny was sitting straight up now. “I know which bus goes to the art class but I don’t know which bus takes us to the city.”
It was a problem.
“And we won’t want to catch the wrong bus. I love The Jungle Book and Baloo and I don’t want to miss ONE SINGLE MINUTE.”
It was a big problem.
“What will we do?”
“We will have to up and away very early and there’ll be NO MUCKING ABOUT.”
Nanny-Anny settled into her chair. “And I shall learn the numbers of the buses that go to the city.” Numbers?
D’Lilah knew numbers all the way to infinity. And she could read most of them, but buses, she knew, went past very fast. This was a very big problem, because she especially loved The Jungle Book story and the City Theatre, her favourite place in the whole world. She couldn’t bear to miss it.
“We’ll get up very, very early,” D’Lila said. “And no MUCKING ABOUT.”
