Elsie

Elsie was a kind and open hearted girl, so when she saw a small ground creeper in need, she offered it a lift on her shoe. This glum mollusc gradually slithered all the way up to her ear, where it promptly glued itself, so to speak.

 Delighted of it’s captive audience, the shelled one whispered endlessly on.  What it said, we do not know, but looking at our dear Elsie’s face it seemed to be a tale of woe.

 Even after they arrived at their destination she just couldn’t get it off, no amount of juicy leaves or mossy beds could tempt it down. And, as you can see, a resident snail is not very good for ones hair!

Would this incessant droning never end? Pondered Elsie as she sank down, defeated, on the forest floor. There she sat until the Governessa stumbled upon her, nestled under a damp pile of leaf litter.

Flossie

A Highland miss, with a temperament to rival the wildcats that roam there and topped with a tangle of truly unruly hair.

Her mother, pleaded and cajoled to be allowed to tame that matted birds nest of a mane, but to no avail.

Flossie would run and hide in the bracken and fields and after her wriggling and rolling through heather and bog she’d return home, filthy and stinking.

 One particularly windy day, she had crawled right into a dense hedgerow and no amount of tugging could loosen the entanglement of thorn, twig and knotted hair.

Unable to free herself she remained. It was a twilight sometime later, that the cold and nimble fingers of the Ghastly Governessa, worked dilligently to claim this wild locked child, for her brood beneath the old twisted willow.

One-Eyed-Orla

At least that’s what the other children called her. It is true, one eye was considerably larger than the other, on account of her dreadful shyness. You see, whilst the other children played and shouted to one another, Orla would always be peeping around the corner watching and longing to join in. As you can imagine, she always had one eye wide open while the other squinted to catch up.

Dear Orla would follow behind secretly, shadow to shadow and wall to wall, our sweet shadowy wallflower lived a life entirely on the periphery.

The old abandoned house, had a sign which read, “DANGER, DO NOT ENTER!”  but Orla could not bear to miss the games played in the overgrown garden, games of lions, tigers and poisonous frogs. So, she squeezed through a crack in the broken door and spied through dusty window panes at the laughing, shrieking faces beyond.

 Until, at last, she was distracted by a particulary fat and hairy spider, which she followed from room to derelict room. A terrible crack was heard for miles around and the old house groaned it’s last groan.

 Sometime later, our bone skirted Governessa dusted Orla down and bid her follow. It is said that you can sometimes see One-Eyed-Orla, squinting through the roots of the old willow tree.

Marnie

 Marnie was Something of a loner, usually found behind a large rock counting lichen clusters.

 At other times she would sit for hours, scratching away with a tiny finger at the  mounds of earth and roots at the rock’s base whilst pondering the plight of the world.

 Until one day however, when she delved a little too deeply and the inevitable happened.

It took the Governessa forever and a day to find tiny Marnie secreted away, under that rather large and knobbly slab of granite.