Once there was a young wombat whose name was Benson, who lived in a fairly nice hole in the ground with his mother and his two aunts, Lillibet and Moss.
One day Benson decided to go fishing. He took his dark green fishing rod, and a bucket of worms and went down to the river.
He got his fishing rod ready, and he picked up the first worm to put on the hook. The worm wriggled on his hand and surprised him, and he dropped it on the ground. It wormed away.
He took out the second worm. This one wriggled along the palm of his hand and curled itself around his finger. He put it down on the ground and watched it squirm away into the dirt.
He got another worm out of the bucket and held it in his hand. It was kind of pink and brown, and very shiny. He watched it stretch out and scrunch up. After a while he put it back in the bucket. He lay down on his tummy beside the river and watched the fish dart in little sharp moves, under and over each other, and sometimes into each other.
After a long while, he picked up his fishing rod and the bucket of worms and walked home again. His aunt Moss was in the garden digging. “Oh, Benson,” she said, “you’ve got a whole bucket of worms! How lovely! I was just thinking how the soil here could do with some good, healthy worms.”
They tipped the bucket out onto the bare dirt, and watched the worms set to work.
Aunt Moss said, “It must be lunchtime. Are you hungry?”
Benson was hungry, and so was Aunt Moss. They picked some carrots out of the garden and took them inside. Aunt Moss gave them a wash, and Benson chopped the tops off for the compost.
Benson’s mother came into the kitchen. “Carrots for lunch?” she said. “Lovely!”