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Of Cabbages and Kings...

old gypsy

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Lucy came through the doorway with a smile on her face and an armful of cabbages. "Look, Icky... these were in the garden shed. I'd forgotten I had stored them there. They should make a fine soup!"

"Dey shure wills," replied Icky. "Dey looky reel purdy, Miz Lucy."

As she passed the counter, Lucy glanced at a book Icky had left on top of her sleeping bag. "Have you been practicing your writing lessons, Icky?" she asked, opening it and glancing at the first page. "Oh my!" Lucy hesitated and cast a worried look in Icky's direction. "I had no idea you felt so strongly about this... perhaps I should have been less vocal about my own feelings on the subject."

"Itz okays, Miz Lucy," replied Icky. "Yoos en mees tink alotz alikes 'bout freedem en stuffs. Wees belongz ta Pitmuck caus wees wantz too... en Ozog bees da king hear caus wees wantz himz ta bee. Wees notz needin noe ubber king. Noe whey noe hows."

Lucy moved to the doorway to check the contents of the steward's backpack. "Hmmm," she murmured. "This repellent... do you think it will really work?"

"Dunno... habnt hadz a chancey ta tries itz yet," said Icky.

"Well, I rather hope we never have to actually test it." Lucy smiled. "It was nice of you to brew it, though. Perhaps it will come in handy one day for someone. One never knows."

"Iz yoos likin mees writin?" asked Icky. "Mees gitten betters atz makin da letterz."

Lucy laughed. "Why Icky! You just made a poem!"

"Ohhhh... mees didz!" Icky giggled. "Mees soos happi." She hugged Lucy's skirt, then skipped off to her corner and grabbed her book. "Mess gonna rite anudder pome," she said. "A pome 'bout summur."

"That's a wonderful idea," said Lucy. "You work on your poem, and I'll get busy making our soup."
 
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old gypsy

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Lucy Little unrolled a roughly drawn blueprint and spread it out on the floor. "These are the plans, Icky. What do you think?"

"Itz bees differnt," replied Icky. "Dont looky much lik a deli ennymores. Ub corse mees gonna lik dat grate big bell fer
shures." She paused. "Mees don noe bout da rests, Miz Lucy. Iz yoos reely wantin ta traid da purdy venders fer dose monk
peeples? En wats up wid da chapel? Wees neber hadz a chapel befores."

Lucy nodded. "Actually, Icky, you're part of the reason behind these changes."

"Mee?" said Icky, looking thoroughly confused.

"Yes, dear. Your recent quest got me thinking. In a way, I'm on a very private quest of my own now."

"Yoos gonna find outz wats da meenin ub life?"

"Not exactly. At least, not in such a broad context as that sounds. It's difficult to explain." Lucy sighed and fell silent, staring off into the distance.

"Iz yoos alrite, Miz Lucy?" asked Icky in a concerned voice.

"Yes," replied Lucy. She smiled. "Let's get to work now. There is so much to do."
 
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old gypsy

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Luann had been sawing and hammering all morning. The noise had given Icky a headache, so she was glad when Lucy asked her to run an errand. "Enyting ta gits aways frum dis goshawfuls rackit!" muttered Icky.

"Our new vendors will need proper clothing," said Lucy. "Please take some gold with you and purchase several more robes from that nice fellow in Yew who sold me the one I'm wearing."

Icky nodded. "Mees reddy," she replied. "Doos yoos needz enyting else?"

"Not right now," said Lucy. She moved aside as Luann came through with another load of lumber. "I don't know what I'd do without you two," she continued. "I'm really pleased with the way things are progressing. At this rate, we should be ready to reopen much sooner than I'd anticipated."

"Dats bees a goos ting!" said Icky, as she grabbed some gold (and a handful of compost cookies) and dashed out the door.
 
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old gypsy

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"We did it," said Lucy. "Our little mission house is beginning its new life."

Icky nodded. "En dat bell bees nicey en louds."

"I haven't seen many people lately," said Lucy. "But we can use the quiet time for reflection and meditation." She paused. "My activist days are behind me, Icky. I shall be taking vows soon."

"Iz dat whys yoos bin bisiting da Yew Abbie? Ta talks ta da monks?"

Lucy nodded.

Minutes passed before either of them spoke again. Finally, Icky broke the silence. "Purdy sunset, Miz Lucy. Da cloudz bees soo pinky-orangey en soo berry brite."

"Beautiful," murmured Lucy. "Just beautiful."
 
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old gypsy

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The day had been a very busy one, but Icky stayed up long after Lucy had gone to bed. Late night was the best time for her to practice reading and writing. Icky knew she still had much work to do. Literacy had never been high on any list of goblin priorities, and she was definitely struggling. She finally set her books aside and yawned... she was so tired.

Icky slipped into her sleeping bag and smiled, remembering the best part of her evening. Ozog had come by after dinner to deliver a gift to her. It was a very rare and special gift that would please any goblin. Thanks to Ozog, she would never need foot warmers again! She wiggled her toes and giggled. Her feet felt positively toasty in her new Lucky Leaping Leprechaun Booties!

"Dey feelz so nicey warms en sofs en dey bees soos purdy," she murmured. "Ozog bees da bestest King inz da hole werld."
 
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whiterabbit

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RUH OH icky's been ina da garden. hers booties gotta beees washed. dey a lil muddy
 

old gypsy

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"Oh my," said Lucy, shaking her head. "Where has the time gone, Icky? Summer is almost over. Halloween will be upon us before we know it!"

"Wees gonna git toos goes Tricky-Treety!" said Icky, smiling.

"We should plan something special for any Trick or Treaters who come by. I've been looking through my recipe book, but nothing inspires me." Lucy sighed.

"Mees jes lerned a news recipee," said Icky. "Mees mades onez fer yoos." Icky carefully lifted a large plate out of the food chest.

"Oh, Icky!" said Lucy. "That's the most beautiful cake you've ever made! It's fit for a king's table!"

"Tree layerz, Miz Lucy... deese gonna bees enuf ta feeds a armie ub Tricky-Treeters."

"That it will," answered Lucy, laughing. She reached for the cake knife. "And we're going to taste-test it right now."

____________________________________________

Later the same evening:

Lucy heard movement in the kitchen and went downstairs to see if they might have a late and unexpected guest. She stopped when she saw who was seated at one of the tables, preparing to dig in to a double serving of the new dessert. "Icky!" she said. "Isn't it rather late to be eating?"

Icky smiled sheepishly. "Mees jes wanteds a libble moor cake befores bedtimez," she explained.

"A little?" Lucy raised her eyebrows. "What do we usually say about excess snacking?" she asked.

Icky sighed. "Mees noes, Miz Lucy. Moderashun inz alls tings."

Lucy smiled. "And... early to bed, early to rise, makes little goblins healthy and wise."

Icky nodded. Reluctantly, she put the cake back into the chest and started to get ready for bed. She didn't forget to say her prayers, and whispered a special one for Ozog, King of Pitmuck, who through his great skill and powerful magic, had obtained for her the wonderful new recipe.

After Lucy retired for the night, Icky tiptoed over to the chest and took one more taste of the marvelous icing.
 
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old gypsy

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A profound change came over Icky after the last Governors' meeting. Lucy was at a loss as to what to say or do. Icky was unusually quiet. She seemed distracted, and her work at the mission was not up to her usual high standards. Even her ice creams cakes seemed to be missing something. Lucy tried to speak with Icky, but the little goblin was becoming a master of avoidance. Lucy took up the slack as well as she could.

Lucy sighed and set out more sleeping bags. It seemed there were more homeless coming by these days, and the mission just wasn't big enough to provide beds for all. "These are hard times," murmured Lucy. "Hard times, indeed."
 

whiterabbit

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ICKY YOOS DER?
WEEE NEEDS TO TALKY. YOOOS CANT LET DA KINGS IGNORANCE MAKES YOOS DEPRESSED, EBERYTING GUNNA BEEES HUNKY DONKEY. MEEES PROMISES
WEES ALL WORRIED BOUTS YOOS.
HUGS OZOG
 

old gypsy

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ICKY YOOS DER?
WEEE NEEDS TO TALKY. YOOOS CANT LET DA KINGS IGNORANCE MAKES YOOS DEPRESSED, EBERYTING GUNNA BEEES HUNKY DONKEY. MEEES PROMISES
WEES ALL WORRIED BOUTS YOOS.
HUGS OZOG
Mees en Itchy (mees squiral) bees hangin outz inz da woods tinkin 'bout tings. Wees foundz sum poison mushroomy rings -- mees betz Ashlynn planteds dem -- butz mees stomped onz dem en set dem onz fires. Don't noe wat ta doo 'bout da Blackthorny guy, tho... himz lotz harders ta deel wit den mushroomies. :(
 

old gypsy

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Lucy navigated carefully through the untidy line of bedrolls, most of which smelled faintly of fish and seawater.

Lucy was well aware that visitors to the little mission on Pitmuck were mainly mariner types down on their luck, some of whom were now too old and feeble for employment. All the bedrolls she stepped over belonged to fisherfolk and old sailors. Indeed, very few poor people found their way here from the cities and towns on the mainland.

"Hmm... perhaps it's time to give the mission a bit of a facelift," Lucy mumbled to herself. "Even a change of name might be appropriate." She paused, thinking. "We could surely squeeze in a few more beds... possibly even a lighthouse to help these poor souls find us."

"Icky!" called Lucy. "Icky, come here please... I have an idea to run by you!"
 

old gypsy

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Autumn turned into winter. The weeks passed by with very little activity at the mission on Pitmuck Island. Even the homeless sailors had stopped coming after the cold set in. Perhaps they had found warmer lodgings in the cities, since the wind and wave-lashed shores of Pitmuck were less than hospitable this time of year.

Lucy contemplated the tasks that needed completing before her departure. Icky had been gone for quite some time now, having set out once again on a search for the meaning of life. This time Lucy was determined to find her and bring her home once and for all. "It's a question with no answer," muttered Lucy. "Or perhaps the answer is just something we were never meant to know." She sighed.

Lucy inventoried the foods she had stored for the winter. Tonight she would set out enough to last during her absence. She would also change the house sign to let any rare visitors know that she was temporarily away. "I hope it's temporary," she whispered to herself. "I've no idea where or how far away that silly little goblin has gone!"
 

old gypsy

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In her search for the meaning of life, Icky traveled far from her home in Pitmuck, stopping for a few days to camp and meditate by a beautiful waterfall. On the morning of the second day she realized she had company -- an elderly monk. He was sitting on the grassy bank, holding his worn sandals in his lap and dangling his feet in the water. Every once in a while he'd let out a giggle and wiggle his toes up and down in the swift current.
 

old gypsy

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Icky watched quietly as the monk played in the water. "Lik a little chile," she thought to herself.

The old fellow began to sing:

"The true King is lost... the true King has gone...
yet in my memory the true King lives on..."


The monk turned suddenly, and as his gaze fell upon Icky he smiled benignly. "Tis winter," he said softly. "Do not look for a spring till the land is free of the winter king."

"Wat yoo meen?" asked Icky.

The old monk smiled again, then slipped on his sandals. "Stay safe," he whispered, as he walked away.
 

old gypsy

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Rumors of unrest in the land had reached Icky. Her thoughts strayed to Pitmuck, to Miz Lucy, and especially to Ozog who would no doubt be involved in any heroic actions that might become necessary. Determined to check on their well-being, she began the long trek home.

Icky's spirit lifted along the way when she suddenly spied a familiar figure. "Miz Lucy!" she cried, waving her hands in the air.

"Icky!" called Lucy, running toward her with all speed.

The two friends almost collided, so anxious were they to hug each other. They both collapsed in the middle of the clearing, laughing and out of breath.
 

old gypsy

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As they journeyed on, Icky told Lucy about the rumors, and about the strange malady that had affected some of the goblins at Pitmuck.

Lucy nodded. "I would almost be tempted to detour," she said. "But what choice do we really have? Pitmuck is our home, our life, and as aprehensive as I feel about all this, we cannot desert the mission. It's simply unthinkable."

"Jes promiss mees won ting, Miz Lucy," said Icky. "Iffen mees fallz asleeps abter wee gits dere, yoos will keep feedin da pore en da hungie. Dey hab bin few en far betweens, butz da onez dat doos bisit reely needs usins rite nowz."

"I promise, Icky. And if you fall asleep, you know I will take good care of you, too."

"Wee bees a goos teem," said Icky.

Lucy smiled. "Yes, we are indeed."
 

old gypsy

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Lucy and Icky spoke of many things on their way home. Most of the subjects they discussed were quite mundane, so Lucy was startled when, out of the blue, Icky asked, "Howz doos goblins happin?"

"I'm not sure what you mean," replied Lucy.

Icky sighed. "Howz doos goblins git hear? Ozog sez wees bees froms ternip patches. Buts wees noo lookie lik eny ternip mees eber seen."

"Perhaps he was just kidding?" Lucy asked hopefully.

"Mees don noes wat ta tink," said Icky. "Mees gits a feelin its kinda lik tryin ta undarstan da meenin ub life."

Lucy coughed. "It appears to be getting dark," she said, changing the subject. "Let's get some rest, Icky. If we get an early enough start in the morning, we should be home before sundown tomorrow."

Without further conversation, they laid out their bedrolls underneath the sheltering limbs of a large oak tree and settled down for the night.
 

whiterabbit

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Ozog , drafts a missive. Goblins do bees from turnips,but dat becasue da GREAT GOBLIN FATHER, plants usins ina turnips din plants da turnips. So wee grows ina da turnips.not all turnips will habe goblins
when yoos pick a turnip der mebe a goblin hangin ona da roots.
 

old gypsy

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Lucy dashed through the door of the mission, with Icky not far behind her. She flopped into a chair and declared, "We're home! At last we're finally HOME!"

Icky nodded, then yawned.... "Mees sew tired, Miz Lucy. Kin usins takes a libble nap nowz?"

"Of course, Icky... we will rest up before we get to work. There's so much to do!" She smiled. "But it looks like Luann dusted and swept and kept things nice and tidy while we were gone. I don't know what we would have done without her being here to mind the fort."

"Yerg," said Icky. "Luann bees a big helpz." Icky accepted a pie from the steward and took a large bite out of it. "Butz Luann aint noes goos atz cookin!" she said, making an awful face.
 

old gypsy

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"Icky," said Lucy. "The time has come to make some major changes."

Icky looked up. "Wat kindz ub changes, Miz Lucy?" she asked.

"I'm not getting any younger, dear... and I'm so proud of you and all you have learned to do since we've been together... I think it's time you took your well-earned place as a property owner here on Pitmuck." Lucy smiled.

"Huh?" said Icky. "Wat yoos meen, Miz Lucy?"

"Well, it doesn't seem that Pitmuck really needs a mission any longer. Since the governors took charge, the poor folk of the realm have been frequenting the mainland towns. Anyway, I've made arrangements to move to a larger property here on Pitmuck." Lucy paused. "Icky, how would you like to be the proprietor of Pitmuck's first official business establishment -- the Pitmuck Goblin Emporium?"

Icky's eyes grew wide. "Wees gonna sells tings?"

"It's not so much about us, Icky. Our enterprising goblin friends will be able to set up shop right here on Pitmuck. What do you think of the idea?"

Icky smiled. "Mees lik da ideer, Miz Lucy." She sat up, straightening her shoulders. "And mees gonna bees a propriater! Yerg, mees lik da ideer a lotz!"

"Lets get started, then," said Lucy. "We have a great deal of work ahead of us, my little friend!"
 
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whiterabbit

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ICKY YOOS WILLS BEES DA 1ST GOBLIN PROPRITOR. YAY
WEES WILL HEPS FER WOT EVERYOU NEEDS
 

old gypsy

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Icky sat quietly under the apple tree in her tiny yard, thinking about Miz Lucy, of bygone days, and her discarded former ambitions. She wondered why she didn't feel sad, but had become more content over time with her simple life.

"Mees sershed sew longs inz sew meny places fer da tru meenin ub life," she said to herself. "Maybees, deep downe insidez, mees new wot itz wuz alls alongs en wuz jes toos stupud ta noes itz." She shrugged and went back to making more gingerbread cookies.
 
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