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There is an island that has been left off the map of the world. It is here that the letters of the alphabet come from. As every story starts with words and as every word is made up of letters, it is only fair and two corners square that the letters of the alphabet tell this one in their own words.

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It started on a stormy day when the rain danced shiny over the decks of the Kettle Black, the most feared pirate frigate to ever sail the Seven Seas . . .

“Excuse me,” said Mr. Tiger. “I don’t mean to stop you midsentence, but do you think it would be less confusing if you began by introducing Betsy K. Glory, instead of diving off the deep end into the stormy sea with the pirates? If I were going to give a speech, I would start by saying that Betsy has purple hair, bright green eyes, rosy cheeks, and a sweet, freckly face. And that she is the daughter of Mr. Alfonso Glory, who is known for making the most amazing ice creams, more delicious than any you have ever tasted, on or off the map of the world. Her mum is Myrtle, a mermaid who doesn’t have freckles and lives in the sea as mermaids do, whereas Dad and Betsy, who both have legs, live above Mr. Glory’s café in a tall windy house. You could add, and it wouldn’t be a whisker of a lie, that they are a very happy family. But then again, I’m not making a speech.”

“With great respect, Mr. Tiger,” said the alphabet, “we will tell this tale in our own way with our own words.”

“It’s only a suggestion,” said Mr. Tiger, “but I’m fond of a good beginning and you need an exciting middle if all your words aren’t going to fall flat in the end. Don’t you agree?”

“Once upon a time . . . ,” said the letters of the alphabet.

“Purrfect!” said Mr. Tiger.