The first Chapter of a story that never got a title (with original spelling and punctuation) [Sixth Grade]
Chapter One: A Note, a invatation, a threat, not to mention an introduction
Once opon a time there lived a dark and stormy knight.
He lived near the small village Smallacawakka, on a tall, cold, bare mountain, which had hardly any trees, and the few trees it did have never bloomed or hand leaves, not in summer nor spring. It did not lack rocks, however, so the dark and stormy knight built his small house of stone, not lumber.
He often visited the village, for food was scarce on the barren mountain. Also he was fond of his young nephew, Jerry Oliver Yesseti, and frequently visited him, as both the men were unmarried, and the retired knight had few visitors as the mountain house of the knight was on the top.
One bleak and cold afternoon, when the dark and stormy knight was returning from Smallacawakka he saw a shadow near his front door.
“Cricky,” he thought, “I’ll have to chase away another blooming bear.”
But as he drew closer still, he could see it was not a bear, but a person, a person whose back was turned to him.
As the dark and stormy knight drew closer still, he could see many details, the gold studded hilt of a sword, and silver butt of a pistol.
The person’s long, grey trousers were splattered with mud, the same mud encrusted his high, brown boots. The knight stopped. It has not rained on the mountain, nor in Smallacawakka.
The blue coat which the man wore would have reached his knees if he had been standing.
The knight rose up to the figure and brought his white horse to a halt, but he didn’t dismount.
The person turned. The white horse bucked.
The person was none other than the leader of THE TAPADOOR PIRATES.
The dark and stormy knight’s heart filled wsth fear, for the pirates had terrorized Tapadoor for some time now, the tapadoor mountains couldn’t be crossed, and any person wishing to visit the neiboring village had to travel clear around the mountain or pay a large sum of money to the pirate band to be allowed to cross.
Smallacawakka, one of the smaller villages in Tapadoor was not invaded by the pirates, for one thing, it was a protected valley surrounded by large, rocky mountains.
For another reason, Smallacawakka was extremly poor, the richest being the mayor and his wide, who were rich enough to visit Tapadoor’s capital, Nock, by going through the mountains twice a year, costing them £1,000 each time.
Nock was terrorized by the pirates more than any other place else, for the pirates lair was in Nock’s mountains, the ship, THE INTRUDER, was in Nock’s bay.
“I have a message,” the pirate captain said. “From Yesseti.”
He handed the dark and stormy knight a piece of crumpled paper.
Please meet me at Wisket Cave TONITE at twelve o’clock in the evening.
Jerry Oliver Yesseti
He read over the letter several times, before pocketing it in one of his many waist-coat pockets.
“Why did not Jerry give this to me while I was in Smallacawakka?”
“He told me he was busy when you arrived and could not locate yourself.”
A long, uncomfortable solence followed, and the dark and stormy knight felt the pirate to close for comfort. He wished him to leave, but the pirate captain made no sign that he wished to remove his presence.
“I will have to go now, it is time for tea,” he said, stopping himself just in time from inviting the pirate in. “Will you please exuse me?”
The pirate Captain just stood, and so did the dark and stormy knight, for no gentleman ever leaves his guest outside, no matter how uninvited the guest may be.
The pirate captain grabbed the dark and stormy knight’s wrist in a grip trighter than the tightest pair of hand-cuffs.
“Tonight, knight.”
The pirate mounted his great grey horse which undoubtedly came from the mayor of Nock’s own stables.
When he disappeared down the mountain’s winding paths the dark and stormy knight reached for his silver snuff-box.
But nothing was there. He franticly dug through his many pockets, coat pockets had been stripped of their watches, loose change, wallet, miscellaneous objects, and handkerchiefs. His trouser books, too, had been emptyed. His small knife had been taken from its case.
He ran wildy into his house.
All articals of silver had been taken, several Tiffany wine glasses had been stone, plus all his clocks, not to mention his anceint wooden flute.
He had been robbed.
Robbed by the captain of the Tapadoor pirates.
Luckily, the pirate captain had not taken the dark and stormy knight’s coffee-pot, so he made himself some coffee, and began his tea.
The spiecal cakes he had bought did not cheer him up, not did the fact he hat boughten some spring-fiddle for supper.
He was bothered by the fact that the pirate had tek nhis clock so he had no idea what time it was.
As soon as the moon was as high as the sun is at noon, he set off.
Whisket Cave, located somewhere in the Nockain mountains was the dark and driery hideout for the pirates.
Although bad children were scared of being snatched away by the pirates (for they heard often of the dark men,) Whisket Cave was not on any maps, no matter how compleat.
The dark and stormy knight carefully traced a map out of am extreamly large book, and circled Caves, keeping in mind that the ledgendary hide-out was located in a group of caves.
The second group of caves he visited was occupied by no pirates, nor no human life. Onley bats answered his inquiring greeting.
Hundreds of furry bodies brushed his surprised face.
When he called again, only echos came.
“Hallooooooo….” He cringed, turned.
The moon went behind a cloud, so he grouped around. When light came to the dark mountain again, he saw his path was blocked by a large, deformed figure.
A human.
A male human.
A Pirate male human.