Everybody Knows That... Goats Don't Dance! CBeebies Bedtime Stories

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Hello, I'm Alex.

Do you like dancing?

There's lots of music and dance in our bedtime story.

The story is called Everybody Knows That Goats Don't Dance,

and it's by Alicia Potter and Ethan Long.

Not many goats danced the fandango, but George did.

He danced beneath the fir trees. He danced amongst the heather.

He danced atop his favourite rock.

He loved the sound of his hooves. Clip, clip, clippity clop.

The other goats snickered.

They snorted, they laughed their tails off.

Their snickers hurt George's ears.

Their snorts made his hooves feel heavy.

Like they'd lost their clip and their clop.

"I don't belong in this herd," he said.

"I need to find some dancing goats."

George imagined all the clipping. He imagined all the clopping.

He imagined his pick of partners.

"Some day," thought George, "I'll find my herd."

His heart fandangoed with hope.

So, one morning, when the sun was so bright

and the fields so buttercuppy, George couldn't stop his hooves.

He danced over the stile, across the pasture

and past the stream

until he couldn't hear a single snicker or snort or laugh.

In a meadow, he came upon a sheep named Liesl.

"Excuse me," said George,

"but do you know any goats who dance the fandango?"

"The fan-what-o?" asked Liesl .

"The fandango," said George. He showed her a few steps.

Clip, clip, clippity clop.

"Nope," said Liesl, "but I yodel."

"Yodel-eh-he-heee! Yodelly yodelly ho-hoo!"

"It's no fandango," she said, "but I like it.

"The head ewe said it turned her stomachs, all four of them.

"And so I left the flock."

"Come with me," George said.

"I'd like the company while I find a new herd."

"I'd be happy to," said Liesl.

George and Liesl shambled down ravines and gambolled up hills.

On the next Alp, they came upon a dog named Max,

dozing in the shade.

"Excuse me," said George,

"but do you know any goats who dance the fandango?"

"Fan-who?" asked Max.

"The fandango." George showed him a few steps.

Clip, clip, clippity clop.

"No," said Max, "but let me show you something."

He returned with a strange musical instrument.

"I play the glockenspiel," said Max.

Ping ping-a-ling ding!

"It's no fandango," said Max, "but it suits me."

"Unfortunately, my shepherd said it distracts the flock."

"Come with us," George said. "We need some help finding my herd."

"At your service," said Max.

George, Liesl and Max, loped through pastures.

They climbed and climbed and they practised.

Clip, clip, clippity clop.

Yodel-eh-he-hoo!

Ping ping-a-ling ding!

They encountered many goats, but not one danced the Hokey Cokey,

never mind the fandango.

One day, George wandered off, alone and sad,

to the other side of the hill.

"There must be something we can do," said Max.

"Yes," said Liesl, "but what?"

Liesl and Max thought about all the goats they'd ever met.

They thought about the most musical beasts they knew.

"There's you," said Max. "And you," replied Liesl.

"But we've never danced the fandango."

George sighed.

"Will I ever find my herd? Am I destined to dance alone?"

His hooves felt heavy,

like they'd lost their clip and their clop.

But soon, George began to miss more than a dancing partner.

He missed Liesl and Max.

Just then, a sound wafted to George's ears.

It was the sound of hooves. Dancing hooves.

"Could it be?" whispered George.

George galloped up, up, up the hill.

At the top he found...

..Liesl and Max dancing the fandango.

"How did you learn to dance like that?" asked George.

"We watched you so often..." panted Max,

"We taught ourselves," finished Liesl.

George, Max and Liesl fandangoed like there was no tomorrow.

They clip, clip, clippity clopped.

They yodel-eh-he-hooed.

They even took turns ping-ping-a-linging,

on Max's glockenspiel.

The trio might quite a noise on the buttercuppy hills.

George sighed.

"Finally, I've found my herd." he said.

His heart fandangoed with joy.

I think George could dance with happiness all night.

But it's time for bed.

So, it's time to put away my ballet shoes.

Night-night. Happy dreaming.

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