The Little French Whistle — Carole Lexa Schaefer

WHOUI! WHOUI! WHOUI! Louie blows on his brand-new whistle from Paree. It sounds important, snappy, and grand to Josette. But it scares the birds from the garden. Fonfon jumps up and yip-yaps away. And baby Roland starts to cry.

“Play it sweet, mon cher,” says Auntie Claire. “Can't you blow soft?” asks Mama. “Zut alors!” cries Grand-père. “Non! Non! Non!” yells Louie. When he leaves in a huff without his whistle, Josette finally gets to give it a try. She blows it sweet for the birds: “Whoui. Tee-whoui.” She blows it soft for Fonfon: “Whhoui-ooo-whhouit.” She blows it soft and sweet for Sheba: “Brr-oui. Brr-oui.”

The birds twitter back. Fonfon comes dancing. And Sheba purrs to the music she makes. Then, maybe Josette will call a taxi -- WHOUI! WHOUI! WHOUI! -- and return
the little French whistle to Louie.