A book that was previously thought to be lost by Enyd Blighton (not Enid Blyton) has recently been rediscovered, thanks to its recent rediscovery. A spokesman for the estate of Enyd Blighton (not Enid Blyton) said 'We are very grateful that it was lost. Otherwise it would never have been rediscovered.' Here is an exclusive extract (from the book).
The Secret Seventy-Seven by Enyd Blighton (not Enid Blyton)
'Let's have a meeting of The Secret Seventy-Seven!' said Peter.
'Oh yes, let's!' said Jane, shutting her book with the book shutter she'd got for Christmas. 'We'd better send out messages to the others. You're quicker at writing than I am, Peter, so you write seventy-six messages and I'll write the other one.'
'Oh Jane!' said Peter, scornfully. 'You've never been good at Maths. As you and I are also in the society, it means there's two less messages for me to write.'
'Woof!' said Spaniely the spaniel.
'Yes Spaniely,' said Jane, 'I know you think the work should be split more evenly, but don't forget I've got writer's cramp.'
'And no, I'm not making it up. Now Peter, you need to write a message to Paul, Lucy, Mary, Cedric, Bill, Len, James, Wally, Dave, Bazza, Lembit, Clint, Harrison, Peabo, Vera, Gwen, Ted, Cyclops, Odin, Bamber, Rumpole, Quagmire, Tucker, Crates, Sybil, Bazil, Bingo, Snorter, Mungo, Rotter, Puce, Nigel, Arlene, Eric Davidson, Quattro, Banshee, Freddddddddddd, Sylvia, Piper, Roger, Gladys, Pilbeam, Timmy, Trite, Arnie, Mucus, Cluckton, Ralph, Muriel, Tuler, Molly, Ned, Bathsheba, Ethel, Nahden, Chips, Banjo, Phones, Carstairs, Tiptree, Sally, Kipper, Frampton, Gloy, Wilhelm, Cinzano, Benson, Hedges, Parsley, Sage, Stuffy, Scruffy, Puffy and Don, and I'll write one to Daphne.'
'Woof!' said Spaniely.
'Shut up,' said Jane.
Three months later, all the messages had been written, and this is what they said:
"A meeting of The Secret Seventy-Seven will be held on the third of the month in the forty-two sheds at the bottom of our garden."
They delivered the messages and then went to prepare the sheds for the secret meeting. Peter looked round, but then again he had always been awfully fat.
'I told Mother about our meeting,' said Peter, 'and she's made us heaps to eat.'
'Oh dear, I'm allergic to heaps,' said Jane.
'What shall we get the Secret Seventy-Seven to do?' asked Peter.
'Perhaps we should solve a mystery,' said Jane.
'What kind of a mystery?' asked Peter.
'I don't know - just a mystery that's all.'
It was all becoming very mysterious. It looked as though the Secret Seventy-Seven might have a mystery to solve after all.
An extract of something similar can be heard as part of The John Dredge Nothing To Do With Anything Show on The British Comedy Guide website, or you can listen here: