Penguin Post CBeebies Bedtime Stories


Penguin Post

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Hi, I'm Emilia and this ice is SO slippy.

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I'm having to hold on to Percival to keep me on my feet.

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Do you know what Percival is?

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That's right, he's a penguin.

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And I know a story about a little penguin

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who lives in a place with lots of ice.

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The story's called Penguin Post.

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Milo was the youngest in a long line of Penguin Post penguins

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but he wasn't going to be the youngest for long.

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Mum had laid an egg.

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Soon there would be another little penguin in the post office.

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Milo wasn't sure how he felt about this.

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"When will it hatch?" said Milo.

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"Any day now." said Milo's mum.

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But the egg still hadn't hatched when Milo's mum had to go

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on a food-finding expedition.

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Somebody had to sit on the egg.

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And that meant that somebody else had to deliver the mail.

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"You sit on the egg." said Milo's dad.

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"No. I want to deliver the mail." said Milo,

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tipping over the bag and grabbing a large parcel.

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With a sigh, Milo's dad laid the egg down

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and stuffed the mail back into the bag.

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Milo read the address on the parcel.

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"Brrrrr!"

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Milo set off across the ice until he reached the gate of number 11.

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He watched as Mrs Major opened her parcel.

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It seemed to be full of snow.

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"What are these feathers for?" asked Milo,

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chasing a handful across the garden.

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"I'm going to fill a quilt for baby bear with them."

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explained Mrs Major. "How's the egg?"

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"Not hatched yet." said Milo.

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The next parcel was soft and squishy

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and absolutely enormous.

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The label read...

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"Slippy!"

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Slipping and sliding, Milo made his way uphill to Treetops.

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Mama Oose was waiting for him.

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"At last!" she said.

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"Baby Mooseline will be so pleased. How's the egg, by the way?"

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"It's still an egg." said Milo, hauling the parcel inside.

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Mama Oose cut the string - snip!

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Tore the brown wrapping paper - rip!

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Lifted the lid on the box - creak!

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And took from the tissue paper - scrunch! -

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a singing, ringing moose papoose!

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When Milo left, Mama Oose was still trying to work out

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how to put Mooseline into the papoose.

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The next package was quite small and was addressed to...

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"Buzzzz."

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It was quite a long way to Vanity Hive,

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so Milo took the shortcut.

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"For me?" squeaked Mrs Tiffle,

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ripping open the package as Milo handed it to her.

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Out fell a tiny zzzleep suit.

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Mrs Tiffle tutted, "It's the wrong colour!"

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"Baby Tiffany would look like a hairy razzzberry in thizzz.

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"How's the egg?"

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Milo sighed,

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"It hasn't hatched yet."

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The sky was growing dark and Milo wanted to go home.

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He peered into his mailbag.

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Only two more parcels to deliver.

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He pulled out a small box addressed to...

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Milo sighed. That was a long way away!

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But the mail had to get through.

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So he walked across the ice and through the forest

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and up the rickety rope ladder

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to the lonely place in the sky where Stella Polaris lived.

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"Miss Polaris!" he called.

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"I have something for you!"

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"Thank you, Milo." she said.

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"I hope this is what I think it is.

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"I've been waiting such a long time."

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Stella Polaris opened the box.

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Inside was a tiny glass bottle.

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"It is!" she cried, un-stoppering the bottle

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and sprinkling the contents across the sky.

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Milo rubbed his eyes.

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In front of him, the darkness was peppered with little lights

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as the sky filled with thousands of baby stars.

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"Thank you SO much for delivering my babies, Milo."

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Stella Polaris said. "What a star you are!

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"Make a wish, any wish, and it will come true."

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Milo watched Stella Polaris hug her babies tight.

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And then something gave a loud CRACK!

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Milo peeked inside the mailbag.

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The egg!

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Suddenly, Milo knew exactly what to wish for.

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To be back home with his family

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with the egg held safely in his arms.

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"Special delivery!" he called.

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"For us?" said Milo's dad.

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"I love surprises in the post. Let's unwrap it."

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"I think it's unwrapping itself." said Milo.

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"I'm back!" called Milo's mum, coming over for a hug.

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"How's the egg?"

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"It's a boy!" said Milo.

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"Good heavens!" said Milo's dad,

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reading the label on the parcel he'd been trying to hatch all day.

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"For a very special big brother."

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Now who in the world could that be?

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And that story was called Penguin Post.

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That was a great surprise!

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Now, Percival, I need you to get me back to the other side of the rink.

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While I do that, it's time for you to go to bed.

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I'll see you soon for another story.

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Right, then, Percival. Off we go!

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Subtitles by Red Bee Media Ltd

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E-mail [email protected]

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