| | Story : John Rickey Illustrating: Ian Marsden |
Milking cows all morning, Farmer George held his aching back.
Planting wheat all afternoon, Farmer George yawned. Repairing fences all evening, Farmer George dragged himself to his bedroom and flopped exhausted on his big bouncy bed. With seven thousand feathers mattressed between sixty bouncy balloons, his bed was a sleeper’s paradise!
I'm so tired," he sighed.
Blink . . . Blunk . . . Blink . . . Blunk . . . fell his eyes, finally closing with a "snorrrrr . . . re, snorrrrr . . . re"
What a night for sleeping! The crickets creaked and the frogs croaked while George floated dreams into the rich black night.
But before another dream could take flight, a burst of noise from the attic shattered the settling darkness:
Rattic in your attic
Rattic in your attic
Rick
Rack
Rickey, rickey, rick-rack.
Covering his ears, George wondered what was making all the rattic in the attic.
He stomped up his creaky old stairs, flew open the attic door,
then . . .
. . . fell backwards in amazement.
Three raccoons, sitting on a plank, crossed their legs singing a silly song:
Rattic in your attic
Rattic in your attic
Rick
Rack
Rickey, rickey, rick- rack.
This was more than George could take!
First he turned red, then he turned blue, then turning purple, he exploded screaming, "Be quiet!"
But the raccoons, without as much as a sniffle, just looked to the left, then looked to the right, wiggled their tails and sang with might:
Rattic in your attic
Rattic in your attic
Rick
Rack
Rickey, rickey, rick- rack.
George stomped down the stairs, returning to bed. He tossed and turned all night listening to that silly song and when morning arrived, George couldn’t believe those raccoons were still singing. Angry and frustrated, he threw an old boot at the attic yelling, "Don’t you varmints ever sleep!
Eager to rid himself of rude raccoons, George rushed into town and bought the best raccoon trap money could buy: 'The Raco-mulcho-masher-XR3'.
He returned home tired, but somehow the very thought of trapping those ridiculous raccoons sparked fresh new energy into his weary old bones and:
Holding his back, he milked those cows!
Yawning, he planted that wheat!
Dragging his feet, he repaired those fences!
Finally, finishing his chores by nightfall, he tiptoed to the attic and set the trap. He was surprised to find the raccoons missing but sensed they’d probably return. Especially these raccoons. They seemed to want something of his.
Nevertheless, George was too tired to figure it out and returned to his bedroom, flopping on his big beautiful bed.
Blink . . . Blunk . . . Blink . . . Blunk . . .
fell his eye's, closing with a
"snorrrrrr . . . re, snorrrrrr . . . re .
What a night for sleeping. The crickets creaked and the frogs croaked.
But sure enough, through the silence of the night cracked:
Rattic in your attic
Rattic in your attic
Rick
Rack
Rickey, rickey, rick-rack.
George bolted up the stairs to the attic, confident to find the raccoons neatly bound in his trap.
However, entering the attic, he kicked the nearest wall!
Those raccoons had flattened his trap into a trampoline . . .
and were singing, bouncing like rubber balls . . .
all over the attic.
First his big toe throbbed,
then his ears steamed,
then he took a deep breath and screamed,
"BE QUIET!"
But the raccoons, without giving George as much as a paw lick, just looked to the left, then looked to the right, wiggled their tails and sang with might:
Rattic in your attic
Rattic in your attic
Rick
Rack
Rickey, rickey, rick- rack.
George stomped down the stairs, back to bed. He tossed and turned all night listening to that silly song.
Frustrated by morning, he dashed to the library hoping to find a book about removing rambunctious raccoons.
Angry, he marched to the front desk and yelled, "I want a book about raccoons!"
"Shhh!" insisted Mrs. Pimperknuckle, the librarian. "You must be quiet!"
But George, totally exhausted from lack of sleep, just couldn't wait and hollered, "I want to remove, right now, three ridiculously rude raccoons from my attic!"
"Shhh!" insisted Mrs. Pimperknuckle again.
Hoping to keep George quiet, she quickly handed him the book 'Removing Ridiculously Rude Raccoons'. Excited, George dropped with the book to the nearest desk, leafing quickly through the pages.
"That's it! That's it!" he yelled pointing to page 101. "Some raccoons hate loud rock and roll music!"
"Shhh!" hissed everyone in the library
Bursting from the library, George rushed to the nearest Music Store and bought a loud tape deck loaded with rock and roll music. He ran home anxious with a plan.
Quickly milking the cows, planting the wheat and fixing more fences, George finished his chores just before night fall.
I'm so tired," he sighed.Blink . . . Blunk . . . Blink . . . Blunk . . . fell his eyes, finally closing with a "snorrrrr . . . re, snorrrrr . . . re"
What a night for sleeping! The crickets creaked and the frogs croaked while George floated dreams into the rich black night.
But before another dream could take flight, a burst of noise from the attic shattered the settling darkness:Rattic in your attic
Rattic in your attic
Rick
Rack
Rickey, rickey, rick-rack.
Covering his ears, George wondered what was making all the rattic in the attic.
He stomped up his creaky old stairs, flew open the attic door,
then . . .
. . . fell backwards in amazement. Three raccoons, sitting on a plank, crossed their legs singing a silly song:
Rattic in your attic
Rattic in your attic
Rick
Rack
Rickey, rickey, rick- rack.
This was more than George could take!
First he turned red, then he turned blue, then turning purple, he exploded screaming, "Be quiet!"
But the raccoons, without as much as a sniffle, just looked to the left, then looked to the right, wiggled their tails and sang with might:
Rattic in your attic
Rattic in your attic
Rick
Rack
Rickey, rickey, rick- rack.
George stomped down the stairs, returning to bed. He tossed and turned all night listening to that silly song and when morning arrived, George couldn’t believe those raccoons were still singing. Angry and frustrated, he threw an old boot at the attic yelling, "Don’t you varmints ever sleep! Eager to rid himself of rude raccoons, George rushed into town and bought the best raccoon trap money could buy: 'The Raco-mulcho-masher-XR3'.
He returned home tired, but somehow the very thought of trapping those ridiculous raccoons sparked fresh new energy into his weary old bones and:Holding his back, he milked those cows!
Yawning, he planted that wheat!Dragging his feet, he repaired those fences!
Finally, finishing his chores by nightfall, he tiptoed to the attic and set the trap. He was surprised to find the raccoons missing but sensed they’d probably return. Especially these raccoons. They seemed to want something of his.Nevertheless, George was too tired to figure it out and returned to his bedroom, flopping on his big beautiful bed.
Blink . . . Blunk . . . Blink . . . Blunk . . . fell his eye's, closing with a
"snorrrrrr . . . re, snorrrrrr . . . re .
What a night for sleeping. The crickets creaked and the frogs croaked.
But sure enough, through the silence of the night cracked:Rattic in your attic
Rattic in your attic
Rick
Rack
Rickey, rickey, rick-rack.
George bolted up the stairs to the attic, confident to find the raccoons neatly bound in his trap.
However, entering the attic, he kicked the nearest wall!
Those raccoons had flattened his trap into a trampoline . . .
and were singing, bouncing like rubber balls . . .
all over the attic.
First his big toe throbbed,
then his ears steamed,
then he took a deep breath and screamed,
"BE QUIET!"
But the raccoons, without giving George as much as a paw lick, just looked to the left, then looked to the right, wiggled their tails and sang with might:
Rattic in your attic
Rattic in your attic
Rick
Rack
Rickey, rickey, rick- rack.
George stomped down the stairs, back to bed. He tossed and turned all night listening to that silly song.Frustrated by morning, he dashed to the library hoping to find a book about removing rambunctious raccoons.
Angry, he marched to the front desk and yelled, "I want a book about raccoons!""Shhh!" insisted Mrs. Pimperknuckle, the librarian. "You must be quiet!"
But George, totally exhausted from lack of sleep, just couldn't wait and hollered, "I want to remove, right now, three ridiculously rude raccoons from my attic!"
"Shhh!" insisted Mrs. Pimperknuckle again.
Hoping to keep George quiet, she quickly handed him the book 'Removing Ridiculously Rude Raccoons'. Excited, George dropped with the book to the nearest desk, leafing quickly through the pages.
"That's it! That's it!" he yelled pointing to page 101. "Some raccoons hate loud rock and roll music!"
"Shhh!" hissed everyone in the library
Bursting from the library, George rushed to the nearest Music Store and bought a loud tape deck loaded with rock and roll music. He ran home anxious with a plan. Quickly milking the cows, planting the wheat and fixing more fences, George finished his chores just before night fall. "Ow!" complained George holding his aching back. Nevertheless, anxious to get rid of those rude raccoons, he tiptoed quietly to the attic. The attic was in such a mess, George couldn’t even find a place to put the tape deck.
"Ouch!" cried George as he pricked himself on a sharp plank. " No wonder they left! How’d anyone sleep in such an uncomfortable mess!" He still though had a funny feeling they’d return. They wanted something of his and they’d be back!
Just to make sure they’d never return, he carefully planted the tape deck, cranking the rock and roll music extra loud.
“That ought to do it!” said George proudly, skipping happily down the stairs, returning relaxed to his bedroom. " Ah! No more raccoons!" sighed George, flopping on his big beautiful bed, breathing in rich country air.
His eyes went Blink . . . Blunk . . . Blink . . . Blunk . . . Boing!The crickets didn't creak and the frogs didn't croak! Rock and roll music was everywhere and someone was singing.
George stomped up the stairs to the attic. But opening the attic door, he rubbed his eyes in disbelief.
The raccoons were dancing, twisting, and rock and rolling to the music singing: Rattic in your attic
Rattic in your attic
Rick
Rack
Rickey, rickey, rick- rack.
George fell to the ground and pleaded, "Stop! Stop! I can't take anymore! I'll do anything! I'll . . . I'll . . give you the attic to sleep in!"However, it was still night time and the raccoons being busy didn't even turn an ear but just kept singing and dancing.
George pounded down the stairs, returning to bed with a pillow over his ears.He tossed and he turned and he turned and he tossed till that silly song drove him so crazy:
George crashed up the stairs, back to the attic.
George pleaded again, "I'll . . . I'll . . . give you the living room to sleep in! It has a little couch and two small pillows and is very comfortable!"However, it was still night time and the raccoons were so busy singing, they didn’t even offer a sniffle in his direction.
George boomed down the stairs, returning to his bed with two pillows over his ears.He tossed and he turned and he turned and he tossed till that silly song drove him so crazy:
George banged up the stairs to the attic!
Deep in his heart, George knew the answer. He’d finally figured what the raccoons wanted. It was morning now and George knew the raccoons would be ready to sleep. He hated to say it, but it was the only way. Regretfully he mumbled, "I'll . . . I'll . . . I'll give you my big beautiful balloon feathered bed to sleep in."Hearing about the big beautiful bed and seeing the morning sunshine was just what the raccoons wanted! They stopped singing and focused their ears on George. Finally having the raccoon's attention, he reluctantly mumbled a bit louder, "I'll give you my big... beautiful... balloon feathered bed to sleep in . . . and . . . and . . . I'll sleep in the attic!"
With noses pointed in the air, the raccoons gave their unanimous approval, bellowing one gregarious grunt in George's direction. 
Tired beyond belief, George skipped his chores and dragged his covers to the attic. It was over. He'd lost the battle but at least it was quiet. Lying between two planks, he quickly fell asleep snoring. 
On the other hand, the raccoons laughed and giggled, running down the stairs, bouncing into George's bed.Singing all night, they pawed their aching throats.
Dancing all evening, they scratched their fleas.
Rock and rolling till morning, they snuggled up together in Georges’ big beautiful bed
What a day for sleeping. The sun sparkled and soft breezes blew. Their eyes went . . . Blink . . . Blunk . . . Blink . . . Blunk . . . Boing . . . . Their ears perked up, then their chins dropped down. Something awful happened. Something they just couldn't take! Noise was coming from the attic.
Bouncing up the stairs to the attic and opening the attic door, they grunted in disbelief:It was George, dreaming about raccoons, singing in his sleep something he'd heard one too many times . . .
Rattic in your attic
Rattic in your attic
Rick
Rack
Rickey, rickey, rick-rack.
Hearing George sing was enough to scare anyone away. But to hear George sing, and sing their silly song , was just too much. The raccoons left immediately and never returned to George’s house again.The cows weren’t milked , the wheat wasn’t cut and the fences weren’t fixed that day because George was finally asleep , floating dreams into the morning sunshine . . . . . back in his big beautiful bed.
Meet the author John Rickey
Try a self grading quiz on Rattic in the Attic.
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