In the end he decided it would be much nicer if he mixed everything up on the one plate and sat on the tray to eat it.

      “Oh, Paddington,” said Judy when she entered the room a few minutes later and found him perched on the tray, “whatever are you doing now? Do hurry up. We’re waiting for you downstairs.”

      Paddington looked up, an expression of bliss on his face; that part of his face which could be seen behind egg whiskers and toast crumbs. He tried to say something but all he could manage was a muffled grunting noise which sounded like IMJUSTCOMING all rolled into one.

      “Really!” Judy took out her handkerchief and wiped his face. “You’re the stickiest bear imaginable. And if you don’t hurry up all the nice things will be gone. Mummy’s going to buy you a complete new outfit from Barkridges – I heard her say so. Now, comb your fur quickly and come on down.”

      As she closed the door Paddington looked at the remains of his breakfast. Most of it was gone but there was a large piece of bacon left which it seemed a pity to waste. He decided to put it into his suitcase in case he got hungry later on.

      He hurried into the bathroom and rubbed his face over with some warm water. Then he combed his whiskers carefully and a few moments later, not looking perhaps as clean as he had done the evening before, but quite smart, he arrived downstairs.

      “I hope you’re not wearing that hat,” said Mrs Brown, as she looked down at him.

      “Oh, do let him, Mummy,” cried Judy. “It’s so… so unusual.”

      “It’s unusual all right,” said Mrs Brown. “I don’t know that I’ve ever seen anything quite like it before. It’s such a funny shape. I don’t know what you’d call it.”

      “It’s a bush hat,” said Paddington, proudly. “And it saved my life.”

      “Saved your life?” repeated Mrs Brown. “Don’t be silly. How could a hat save your life?”

      Paddington was about to tell her of his adventure in the bath the evening before when he received a nudge from Judy. She shook her head. “Er… it’s a long story,” he said, lamely.

      “Then you’d better save it for another time,” said Mrs Brown. “Now come along, both of you.”

      Paddington picked up his suitcase and followed Mrs Brown and Judy to the front door. By the door Mrs Brown paused and sniffed.

      “That’s very strange,” she said. “There seems to be a smell of bacon everywhere this morning. Can you smell it, Paddington?”

      Paddington started. He put the suitcase guiltily behind himself and sniffed. He had several expressions which he kept for emergencies. There was his thoughtful expression, when he stared into space and rested his chin on a paw. Then there was his innocent one which wasn’t really an expression at all. He decided to use this one.

      “It’s very strong,” he said, truthfully, for he was a truthful bear. And then he added, perhaps not quite so truthfully, “I wonder where it’s coming from?”

      “If I were you,” whispered Judy, as they walked along the road towards the tube station, “I should be more careful in future when you pack your suitcase!”

      Paddington looked down. A large piece of bacon stuck out of the side of his case and was trailing on the pavement.

      “Shoo!” cried Mrs Brown as a grubby-looking dog came bounding across the road. Paddington waved his suitcase. “Go away, dog,” he said sternly. The dog licked its lips and Paddington glanced anxiously over his shoulder as he hurried on, keeping close behind Mrs Brown and Judy.

      “Oh dear,” said Mrs Brown. “I have a funny feeling about today. As if things are going to happen. Do you ever have that feeling, Paddington?”

      Paddington considered for a moment. “Sometimes,” he said vaguely as they entered the station.

      At first Paddington was a little bit disappointed in the Underground. He liked the noise and the bustle and the smell of warm air which greeted him as they went inside. But he didn’t think much of the ticket.

      He examined carefully the piece of green cardboard which he held in his paw. “It doesn’t seem much to get for eighty pence,” he said. After all the lovely whirring and clanking noises the ticket machine had made it did seem disappointing. He’d expected much more for his money.

      “But Paddington,” Mrs Brown sighed, “you only have a ticket so that you can ride on the train. They won’t let you on otherwise.” She looked and sounded rather flustered. Secretly she was beginning to wish they had waited until later in the day, when it wasn’t quite so crowded. There was also the peculiar business of the dogs. Not one, but six dogs of various shapes and sizes had followed them right inside. She had a funny feeling it had something to do with Paddington, but the only time she caught his eye it had such an innocent expression she felt quite upset with herself for having such thoughts.

      “I suppose,” she said to Paddington, as they stepped on the escalator, “we ought really to carry you. It says you’re supposed to carry dogs but it doesn’t say anything about bears.”

      Paddington didn’t answer. He was following behind in a dream. Being a very short bear he couldn’t easily see over the side, but when he did his eyes nearly popped out with excitement. There were people everywhere. He’d never seen so many. There were people rushing down one side and there were more people rushing up the other. Everyone seemed in a terrible hurry. As he stepped off the escalator he found himself carried away between a man with an umbrella and a lady with a large shopping bag. By the time he managed to push his way free both Mrs Brown and Judy had completely disappeared.

      It was then that he saw a most surprising notice. He blinked at it several times to make sure but each time he opened his eyes it said the same thing: FOLLOW THE AMBER LIGHT TO PADDINGTON.

      Paddington decided the Underground was quite the most exciting thing that had ever happened to him. He turned and trotted down the corridor, following the amber lights, until he met another crowd of people who were queuing for the ‘up’ escalator.

      “’Ere,” said the man at the top, as he examined Paddington’s ticket. “What’s all this? You haven’t been anywhere yet.”

      “I know,” said Paddington, unhappily. “I think I must have made a mistake at the bottom.”

      The man sniffed suspiciously and called across to an inspector. “There’s a young bear ’ere, smelling of bacon. Says he made a mistake at the bottom.”

      The inspector put his thumbs under his waistcoat. “Escalators is for the benefit and convenience of passengers,” he said sternly. “Not for the likes of young bears to play on. Especially in the rush hour.”

      “Yes, sir,” said Paddington, raising his hat. “But we don’t have esca… esca…”

      “… lators,” said the inspector, helpfully.

      “… lators,” said Paddington, “in Darkest Peru. I’ve never been on one before, so it’s rather difficult.”

      “Darkest Peru?” said the inspector, looking most impressed. “Oh, well in that case” – he lifted up the chain which divided the ‘up’ and ‘down’ escalators – “you’d better get back down. But don’t let me catch you up to any tricks again.”

      “Thank you very much,” said Paddington gratefully, as he ducked under the chain. “It’s very kind of you, I’m sure.” He turned to wave goodbye, but before he could raise his hat he found himself being whisked into the depths of the Underground again.

      Half-way down he was gazing with interest at the brightly coloured posters on the wall when the man standing behind poked him with his umbrella. “There’s someone