Hercules Quick's Big Bag of Tricks, page 1
For Annie Warburton, dear friend across the years and the wide land – UD xx
For Beck, William and Charlotte – AJ
This collection first published by Allen & Unwin in 2023
‘Ask Hercules Quick’, Copyright © Text, Ursula Dubosarsky, 2019
Copyright © Illustrations, Andrew Joyner, 2019
‘The Magnificent Hercules Quick’, Copyright © Text, Ursula Dubosarsky, 2021
Copyright © Illustrations, Andrew Joyner, 2021, 2023
‘How’s Tricks, Hercules Quick?’, Copyright © Text, Ursula Dubosarsky, 2023
Copyright © Illustrations, Andrew Joyner, 2023
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without prior permission in writing from the publisher. The Australian Copyright Act 1968 (the Act) allows a maximum of one chapter or ten per cent of this book, whichever is the greater, to be photocopied by any educational institution for its educational purposes provided that the educational institution (or body that administers it) has given a remuneration notice to the Copyright Agency (Australia) under the Act.
Allen & Unwin
Cammeraygal Country
83 Alexander Street
Crows Nest NSW 2065
Australia
Phone: (61 2) 8425 0100
Email: info@allenandunwin.com
Web: www.allenandunwin.com
Allen & Unwin acknowledges the Traditional Owners of the Country on which we live and work. We pay our respects to all Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Elders, past and present.
ISBN 978 1 76106 774 7
For teaching resources, explore www.allenandunwin.com/resources/for-teachers
Illustration technique: digital artwork
Cover design by Andrew Joyner and Sandra Nobes
Text design by Romina Edwards, adapted by Sandra Nobes
Hand-lettering by Andrew Joyner
www.ursuladubosarsky.squarespace.com
www.andrewjoyner.com.au
Act 1: Ask Hercules Quick
Hercules Quick’s Magic Floating Mandarin Trick
Act 2: The Magnificent Hercules Quick
Hercules Quick’s Magic Mind-Reading Coin Trick
Act 3: How’s Tricks, Hercules Quick?
Hercules Quick’s Magic Pepper Trick
Hercules Quick lived with his Aunt Alligator in a big red house.
The big red house was three storeys high.
Hercules and his aunt lived on the middle floor of the house.
On the floor above lived a family of elks – Father Elk, Mother Elk, Grandmother Elk, Great-Grandmother Elk, Great-Great-Grandmother Elk, Uncle Elk, Cousin Elk and, of course, Baby Elk. They were all very hairy.
On the floor below lived Professor Calamari. He was an octopus. He spent most of his time listening to the radio and eating pancakes.
Up on the flat roof, the turtle brothers, Mike and Herbert, lived next to the clothesline. Their names were painted on their shells.
Down below, in the dark, dark cellar, lived Queen Claude. She was very quiet. She was so quiet that sometimes everyone thought she must have moved out. But then she would appear in the most unexpected places.
This story begins on the day Hercules Quick went out shopping with Aunt Alligator.
In the window of the toyshop, he saw a very special box. On the lid were letters which shone like mirrors:
It was the most wonderful box of magic tricks Hercules had ever seen!
All the way home from the shop, Hercules couldn’t stop thinking about it.
‘Would that box of magic tricks cost a lot of money?’ he asked Aunt Alligator, tugging on her claw.
‘I’m afraid so,’ said Aunt Alligator.
‘How much money do I have in my piggy bank?’ asked Hercules.
‘Actually,’ said Aunt Alligator, ‘I don’t think you have a piggy bank, Hercules.’
Hercules sighed. No piggy bank, no money.
I need a job, he thought. That’s what I need.
He tugged on Aunt Alligator’s claw again.
‘There are a lot of jobs in the world that need doing, aren’t there, Aunty?’ asked Hercules.
‘Well, Hercules,’ said Aunt Alligator. ‘There are always jobs to be done.’
Hercules nodded. He had an idea.
As soon as they got home, he rushed to his room. He got out his paints, his paintbrush and a big piece of plain paper. On the paper he painted some words.
When the words were dry, he ran out to show Aunt Alligator. She was sitting at her desk, writing her diary in a secret code.
‘Look!’ said Hercules, holding up the paper. ‘I’ve made a sign.’
‘Goodness me!’ said Aunt Alligator. ‘Hercules!’
‘I know what you’re thinking,’ said Hercules. ‘Ten cents does not sound like much. But just think – if I make ten cents every day, in ten days that is one dollar. In ten weeks, that is seven dollars. In ten months, that is three hundred and ten dollars. That has to be enough to buy a box of magic tricks!’
‘I see what you mean,’ said Aunt Alligator, impressed.
‘And may I say, Hercules, you are very good at adding up.’
‘I am going to hang my sign out our window now,’ said Hercules, ‘so that everybody can see it.’
He stuck the sign out the open window with sticky tape, so it wouldn’t blow away.
Then he looked around the room. One more thing …
On top of the bookshelf was a green sock. He had found it in the park, hidden under some leaves. He’d brought it home in case it came in handy one day.
Well, that day had finally arrived! He skipped over to the shelf, picked up the sock and gave it a shake.
‘The perfect piggy bank!’ he said, holding it up for Aunt Alligator to see.
He was ready and very excited.
Now all he had to do was wait for the jobs!
It did not take long. A moment later, there was a knock at the door. Aunt Alligator went to open it.
It was Professor Calamari.
‘Well hello, Professor!’ said Aunt Alligator.
‘Hello, dear lady,’ said Professor Calamari. His voice was deep and gurgly. ‘Is Hercules there? I have come because I saw the sign hanging out the window.’
‘Here I am!’ cried Hercules, running over. ‘Have you got a job for me?’
‘In fact, I do,’ said Professor Calamari.
He twirled his moustache with one of his tentacles. Then from behind his back he produced a bucket.
‘This is my collection of rose petals,’ he explained. ‘I have been collecting them for a long time.’
Hercules and Aunt Alligator stared into the bucket.
‘Fascinating,’ said Aunt Alligator.
‘Um,’ said Hercules. ‘So, what’s the job?’
‘What I want you to do, Hercules,’ said Professor Calamari, ‘is to go to the window and throw these petals over the heads of anyone passing by. When there are none left, I will give you ten cents.’
‘That’s the job?’ asked Hercules.
‘Yes,’ said Professor Calamari. ‘I would do it myself, but it is nearly time for my favourite radio program.’
‘Are you sure you wouldn’t like me to sell lemonade?’ asked Hercules. ‘Or something like that?’
‘There is no comparison,’ said Professor Calamari sternly, ‘between selling lemonade and throwing petals. I can’t believe you suggested it.’
Hercules thought of the box of magic tricks.
‘Okay,’ he said. ‘I’ll do it.’
Professor Calamari handed Hercules the bucket and hurried back to his apartment. He sat down with a plate of pancakes and turned on the radio very loud. The sound of trumpets came rushing through the room.
Back upstairs, Hercules carried the bucket over to the window. He reached in and took a big handful of rose petals. Then he leaned over and threw them down onto the heads of anyone passing by.
Of course, he couldn’t help noticing that not everybody liked to have rose petals thrown over their head. But he threw them all, every single one, until the bucket was empty and the pavement was deep in rose petals.
‘I’m going to see Professor Calamari now,’ said Hercules to Aunt Alligator, ‘to collect my ten cents. Boy, did I earn it.’
He took the bucket down the flight of stairs to the professor’s place and rang the doorbell. The door opened. When Professor Calamari saw Hercules and the empty bucket, he was delighted.
‘Great job, Hercules!’ he said. ‘Wait here.’
Hercules waited. There was a strange sloshy sound. Then Professor Calamari came back. In one tentacle he held a ten-cent piece. In another tentacle there was a plastic bag full of water and pond weed.
‘Guess what, Hercules?’ said Professor Calamari. ‘I’m giving you a bonus!’
‘Is that a tadpole?’ asked Hercules, peering into the plastic bag.
‘It is,’ said Professor Calamari. ‘Her name is Sylvie. She is an orphan.’
Sylvie blinked.
‘Oh!’ said Hercules.
He slipped the ten cents into his pocket and then, carefully holding the plastic bag, went back up the stairs.
‘Look!’ he said to Aunt Alligator. ‘This is Sylvie. She has come to live with us. She doesn’t have any legs yet because she is a tadpole.’
‘She certainly has a lovely smile,’ said Aunt Alligator.
Hercules found an empty pickle jar and opened the plastic bag. He poured the water and the seaweed and Sylvie all into it.
Sylvie beamed. Aunt Alligator was quite right. She did have a lovely smile.
Hercules put the pickle jar with Sylvie inside it on the table and got out his paints. He wanted to paint a picture of her. But it was not easy because she wouldn’t keep her tail still.
The phone rang. Aunt Alligator picked it up.
‘Hello,’ said a voice on the other end. ‘Father Elk speaking.’
‘Hello there, Father Elk,’ said Aunt Alligator. ‘How is everybody at home?’
She didn’t say all their names because she knew there were a lot of elks up there. Father Elk, Mother Elk, Grandmother Elk, Great-Grandmother Elk, Great-Great-Grandmother Elk, Uncle Elk, Cousin Elk and, of course, Baby Elk.
‘We are all fine and hairy,’ said Father Elk. ‘In fact, we’re just about to have a card party.’
‘Very nice,’ murmured Aunt Alligator, who was herself not fond of cards.
‘I know you are not fond of cards,’ continued Father Elk, ‘otherwise I would invite you over. But I was wondering. I saw the sign. Do you think Hercules can babysit Baby Elk for us while we are playing?’
‘Well,’ began Aunt Alligator.
The phone on the other end clicked off. There was a great clattering of hooves coming down the stairs, and then a knock at the door.
Aunt Alligator opened it. There stood Father Elk, with Baby Elk perched on his shoulders.
‘It’s us!’ said Father Elk, peering into the room. ‘Can you babysit Baby Elk for us, Hercules?’
‘Um,’ said Hercules. ‘Actually, I was just painting a picture of my friend Sylvie.’
‘Baby Elk loves painting!’ said Father Elk.
Baby Elk jumped down from his father’s shoulders and bolted over.
‘Paint!’ he shouted.
He began dipping his hooves into Hercules’ pots of paint.
‘Now just a minute,’ said Hercules.
‘It’ll only be for an hour,’ pleaded Father Elk quickly, ‘while we play cards. Poor Baby Elk gets so nervous when anybody says, “Snap!”’
Hercules thought of the box of magic tricks.
‘Okay,’ he said. ‘I’ll do it.’
‘You are a gem!’ said Father Elk.
He kissed Baby Elk on top of his hairy head and disappeared out the door.
Each of Baby Elk’s hooves was now a different colour. Aunt Alligator found a tea towel and wiped the paint off.
‘Maybe you should take Baby Elk to the park, Hercules,’ she said, ‘and he can play in the playground.’
‘Games!’ cried Baby Elk and he was off.
‘Wait for me!’ shouted Hercules.
He tumbled down the stairs after Baby Elk, who was already out the front gate. Hercules had to chase him all the way to the park at the end of the street.
‘Now, Baby Elk,’ said a panting Hercules when they reached the park, ‘would you like to go on the slippery dip?’
Baby Elk gazed up at the slippery dip.
‘Too high!’ he wailed, clinging to Hercules.
‘Okay,’ said Hercules. ‘How about the sandpit?’
‘Too sandy!’ yelled Baby Elk, making a face.
‘Monkey bars?’
‘Too crazy!’ screamed Baby Elk and hid under a bush.
Then Baby Elk saw the seesaw. It was the kind of seesaw that had a big spring at either end.
‘Bounce!’ cried Baby Elk.
He trotted over on his little hooves and sat himself down on one end of the seesaw. Hercules sat on the other end.
‘BOUNCE!’ shouted Baby Elk again.
Baby Elk bounced. Hercules bounced back. Baby Elk bounced and bounced. And bounced and bounced. The world went up and down and up and down and up and down. They bounced and bounced and bounced and bounced.
Just when Hercules couldn’t bear even ONE more bounce, Baby Elk suddenly announced:
‘Too tired!’
‘THAT’S a relief,’ said Hercules and he leaped straight off the seesaw before Baby Elk could change his mind. ‘Home time.’
They made their way back to the big red house. They had both been bouncing for so long, the ground felt like it was bouncing too.
Father Elk was waiting at the door. Behind him, Hercules could see the Elk family fast asleep on the sofa after a hard afternoon playing cards.
‘Welcome back!’ said Father Elk. ‘I bet you two had fun together.’
‘Fun!’ said Baby Elk, with a giant yawn.
‘Thank you so much, Hercules,’ said Father Elk. ‘Here is your ten cents for the job. And Great-Great-Grandmother Elk especially told me to give you this nice cream cake as well, as a special thank you.’
‘Er, lovely,’ said Hercules.
He took the ten cents and the cream cake and staggered down the stairs.
‘Aunt Alligator,’ said Hercules. ‘Please take this cream cake and eat it if you like. I’m going to lie down on the sofa.’
‘Can I get you anything?’ asked Aunt Alligator.
‘No thanks,’ replied Hercules, closing his eyes.
He was quite seesaw-sick. Even the sofa felt like it was bouncing.
A rustling sound came from under the front door. Hercules bent down to see what it was.
A crumpled piece of paper had been pushed under the gap. It was covered with smudged writing, like the footprints of birds.
‘What is it, Hercules?’ asked Aunt Alligator.
‘It’s a note from Queen Claude,’ he answered, frowning. ‘She has a job for me, I think. It’s very hard to read.’
‘What sort of job?’ asked Aunt Alligator cautiously.
‘She doesn’t say,’ said Hercules. ‘She just says that it’s …’ He strained to read the sticky writing:
‘Hmm,’ said Aunt Alligator. ‘Are you sure you want to do that job? It’s pretty dark in the cellar, you know.’
‘I’m saving up, Aunty,’ Hercules reminded her. ‘I can’t be fussy.’
He headed out to the winding stairway that led down to the cellar where Queen Claude lived.
It was so dark that he had to put both hands out to the walls on either side and feel his way down, one foot after the other, slowly, slowly …
‘HA—!’
Hercules screamed.
‘—LLO!’ finished Queen Claude.
Two bright beady eyes and a row of shiny white teeth gleamed in the darkness.
‘Er, it’s me,’ said Hercules. ‘Hercules Quick.’
There was a strange, still silence.
‘Hercules Quick,’ growled Queen Claude eventually. ‘At last you get here!’
She struck a match and lit a sagging candle.
‘Have I got a job for you, Hercules Quick!’ she said.
‘Great!’ said Hercules. He paused. ‘I think.’
‘You see this?’ In the shadows, Queen Claude held up a huge purple handbag.
‘Um, yes?’ said Hercules.
‘This,’ said Queen Claude, dropping her voice, ‘is where I keep my ping-pong ball.’
‘Oh,’ said Hercules.
‘But now,’ continued Queen Claude in menacing tones, ‘THE PING-PONG BALL HAS GONE! You must find it. That is the job,’ she added more calmly.
‘I’m sure I can do that,’ said Hercules eagerly. ‘When did you last see it?’
‘Three minutes ago exactly,’ snapped Queen Claude.
‘Well, it can’t have gone too far,’ said Hercules. ‘Leave it to me – er, Your Majesty.’
‘I am going to visit my cousin now,’ said Queen Claude, ‘and when I return, I trust that you will have found my ping-pong ball.’
Queen Claude scuttled away and left Hercules alone in the cellar.
Hercules peered around in the flickering candlelight. He began to search. He searched the floor, the walls, all the gloomy nooks and musty crannies and the even gloomier nooks and mustier crannies. His hands touched all sorts of unpleasant things and his nose filled with cinders and he sneezed several times.
