Pickel – Packel – Pockel

From Repetitive Stories: A collection for young and old, Hella Coenen, 1997

Little Pickel-Packel-Pockel has a beautiful hat, a beautiful hat of feathers.
And beautiful clothes, beautiful golden clothes.
And that suits Pickel-Packel-Pockel ever so well.

Pickel-Packel-Pockel has gone for a walk along the river. After a while he gets tired of walking.
He takes off his hat and lays himself down along the riverside.
Then there comes a hard gust of wind, f f f f f f f f f f f f f.

Pickel-Packel-Pockel gets a fright and he cries, “what’s that, what’s that, the waves are taking my hat.”

Just then a little gnome comes walking by and asks, “What’s the matter little Pickel-Packel-Pockel?”

“What’s that, what’s that, the waves are taking my hat,” replies Pickel-Packel-Pockel.

“I know a hatter in the forest. Shall we go there together?” said the gnome.
Then Pickel-Packel-Pockel and the gnome went on their way together.
They went deeper and deeper into the forest until they came to a big fat tree and they knocked: knock, knock, knock.
Then there appeared a hatter, and the gnome suddenly disappeared.

“What is the matter, Pickel-Packel-Pockel?”

“What’s that, what’s that, the waves are taking my hat,” replies Pickel-Packel-Pockel.
“We shall go inside my house and make you a new hat” said the hatter.

He opens a cabinet and from a little drawer he takes a piece of felt. He measures it.
From another drawer he takes another piece of felt, from this he will cut the brim, snip-snap, snip-snap.
Then we take a beautiful golden feather and a red feather and we pin these firmly on, pik, pik, pik.

And just here by the feathers we do a few more stitches to fasten them, pikkerdepik – pikkerdepik.

That is that. Pickel-Packel-Pockel has a beautiful new hat again with feathers, and beautiful golden clothes.
That suits Pickel-Packel-Pockel ever so well. And Pickel-Packel-Pockel can have nice walks again along the river.

Do you know who else likes it very much as well? Do you know who else likes it that he has a new hat again?

The waves: listen wripple-warpple, wripple-wrapple the waves go together.

There comes a roe buck to the river. “River, river can I have a drink?”

“Yes, yes, yes, drink from my water so clean and clear.”

“Klok, klok, klok, m m m m m m m m . He likes it so much that he wags his tail.
Then the roe buck triples over the moss and jumps away into the big forest.