Chapter 5: Dan tries to feed the giants, is fed a giant supper and makes his fortune at the Charlottetown races

New Glasgow lobster supper My, oh my, oh my. I never did think. Ever. That meeting my new Moms would lead this little old Oztrayan orphan boy on such adventures on the island the locals call PIE, I guess because it is jast as tasty, crumbly and full of goodness as one of grandma's bluebeery pies. I hardly have words to describe the journey my belly has been on, let alone my newly braided pigtails. On the day before the day before today, Mom took Dan of Green Gables (that's me stupid) and my new pals Tweet, the Nibbler, Segway from Beavaria and the Silver Fox to feed the GIANTS outa place called Tignish, way out west. Skippered by Kenny Macmunshine, who is kinda like the opposite of the stickman that we met yesterday in that he loves nothing more than to do whatever you ask him to, it was like a ride on a huge, watery rollercoaster. Cap'n Mcmunshine called it "sloppy", like Mom sometimes calls me when I leaves my smalls and socks on the bedroom floor. Poor Nibbler spent a lot of time looking over the side for dem giants but still, being the Nibbler and especially contentious, never stopped writing in her little book. Cap'n Mcmunshine said she was "one tough lady" when we finally stopped being tossed about on five foot waves. Tweet was happy as a sweet in a candy store and that Silver Fox, well he was like a magnet to mackerel with his fishing rod. Couldn't miss. Never saw any giants but there was amazing sights all around - seals popping up all round us and gannet birds divebombing the sea like demented arrows shot from the sky. Then dog gorn if a Minke whale didn't happen by - truly a beautiful sight that made Dan of Green Gables's heart flutter. Back on dry land Mom was waiting for us, super anxious like Moms get, God bless her, and ready to feed us with riches from the ocean surrounding the blessed isle of PIE. Well, we had an appointment with my old home over in Cavendish but because the Beavarian and the Silver Fox just love their churches - the whiter the better - and their cliffs as red as possible and with sun hitting them at just the right angle, we made real slow progress, stopping here and stopping there. When we finally made to it my old home, guess what? They'd changed its name and everything. There was a big plaque saying "Anne of Green Gables House" outside and this time - you may recall they wouldn't let Dan into his own house the first time - it wasn't even open. Now, if it were my home, which it is rightfully, it would never be closed, I can tell you. You'd always be invited, for a tea, a cawfee or a tincture. I just don't know who this Anne thinks she is? Mom suggested I stage a one-boy protest there and then, to reclaim what is rightfully mine, but I'm not that kind of boy. That night we went to a place called New Glasgow which is different from the old one cos you can understand what people say there. We stopped at a kind of eating palace where you could eat as much lobster as your heart desired along with chowder, mussels and blueberry pie. It was soo nice, the most perfect lobster supper this little old orphan Oztrayan boy ever did taste. Then, on the day before today, the Nibbler and me met another lovely lady named Ruth and she took us cycling on the Confederate Trail. This goes right across this island from one end to the other. Now, I was pretty much born with wheels for legs and spokes for bones, and so I've seldom been so happy as I was pedalling along the trail. Especially in the sunshine beside the Hillsborough river between Morrell and St Peters, although I was a bit disappointed at the end as I was expecting to see the new Pope.

The Nibbler and Ruth on the Confederate Trail I was hoping to tell him my new joke that I learnt from the Beavarian which goes like this: Question: "Are you Dan of Green Gables?" Answer: "Do bears poop in the woods, is the Pope an Argentinian?" Reckon that's pretty funny. Now, listen up, you know that gambling is wrong don't ya? Yeah, me too. But it's mighty fun too and last night the crazy gang got to go to the harness racing in Charlottetown, which I think I mentioned is like where I come from Charlotte Bay in Oztraya, only with town at the end of it instead of Bay. We had a ball, Dan even got to go in the starter's machine - an amazing contraption which the horses pressed up against and which got driven by a fella looking backwards. I damn near fainted with excitement, never been so close to the action as that. Plus we met trainer Danny Macdonald and his pacer Rumba Boogie, which like me had a braid!! Poor Rumba, he didn't do too good, although he finished a creditable seventh (out of eight) in Race 3.

But then something took hold of young Dan, call it fate, call it the luck of the Irish, but Dan started picking winners. Race 4 came and Dan won, then again in Race 5, then Race 6 and so on until he was invited with his pals up into the box where the man with a high-pitched voice called the races. It was like a dream as my horse led from pillar to post and the caller screamed "Summerville Deb goes all the way". Dan of Green Gables went home a happy, happy boy.