Richmal Crompton

“ The setting sun had turned the sky to gold. There was a soft haze over all the countryside. The clear bird songs filled all the air, and the hedgerows were bursting into summer. And through it all marched William, with a slight swagger, his bow under one arm, his arrows under the other, while at his heels trotted Jumble, eager, playful, adoring—a mongrel unashamed—all sorts of a dog. And at William’s heart was a proud, radiant happiness. ”

“ His thoughts dwelt on rapturous memories of previous Christmas pantomimes—of Puss in Boots, of Dick Whittington, of Red Riding Hood. His mouth curved into a blissful smile as he thought of the funny man—inimitable funny man with his red nose and enormous girth. How William had roared every time he appeared! With what joy he had listened to his uproarious songs! But it was not the funny man to whom William had given his heart. It was to the animals. It was to the cat in Puss in Boots, the robins in The Babes in the Wood, and the wolf in Red Riding Hood. He wanted to be an animal in a pantomime. ”

“ The mule may not have been used to the whip; a wasp may have just stung him at that particular minute; a wandering demon may have entered into him. Mules are notoriously accessible to wandering demons. Whatever the explanation, the mule suddenly started forward and galloped at full speed down the hill. The reins dropped from William's hands; he clung for dear life on to his seat, as the caravan, swaying and jolting along the uneven road, seemed to be doing its utmost to fling him off. There came a rattle of crockery from within. ”

“ Then I noticed that a small table in a corner of the room was full of portraits of the same woman, portraits taken at different periods of her life, but all showing the same vivid beauty and compelling personality. In front of them was a vase of white flowers which seemed to give the table the nature of a shrine.
Then Felicity came forward to greet me. My first glance at her told me nothing. She was pale, her radiance slightly dimmed; but she had always been pale, and a honeymoon could not last for ever. She was more self-possessed than she had been. ”

“ She knew that she would be busy enough in the day, for the farmhouse was old and rambling, and she was to have no help in the housework. But she looked forward to quiet, peaceful, lamplit evenings; and only lately, after ten years of married life, had she reluctantly given up the hope of them. For peace was far enough from the old farm kitchen in the evening. It was driven away by John Clay's loud voice, raised always in orders or complaints, or in the stumbling, incoherent reading aloud of his newspaper.
Mary was a silent woman herself and a lover of silence. ”

“ Rosamund had an incurable objection to hills. At the foot of a hill she generally made certain curious rumblings in her inside, and then all power of movement seemed to die away, and Rosamund was content to form a stationary object of the landscape.
Henry was toiling up the hill with her in a state of moist heat when he saw a girlish figure in white descending it. It looked like Gladys Philips in the distance. A familiar panic overcame him. Few tortures were more painful to him than meeting girls he knew on a long and solitary road. At what point exactly should he smile and raise his hat? ”

“ Life stretched empty and uninviting before him without his bow and arrow. And Ginger would have his bow and arrow, Henry would have his bow and arrow, Douglas would have his bow and arrow. He, William, alone would be a thing apart, a social outcast, a boy without a bow and arrow; for bows and arrows were the fashion. If only one of the others would break a window or hit a silly old cat that hadn’t the sense to keep out of the way.
He came to a stile leading into a field and took his seat upon it dejectedly, his elbows on his knees, his chin in his hands. Life was simply not worth living. ”

“ William wandered round the house and looked in several of the windows; he had a lively encounter with a gardener, and finally, on peeping into the kitchen regions with a scornful laugh, was chased off the premises by the infuriated footman. Saddened, but not defeated, he returned across the fields to the barn and flung open the door. Ginger, panting and perspiring, was dragging the Lady Barbara in the packing-case round and round the barn by a piece of rope.
He turned a frowning face to William. A life of crime was proving less exciting than he had expected. ”

“ William with one glance at the purple face threw dignity to the winds and got out, closely followed by the incipient sheep dog. He was ablaze with righteous indignation. He felt that he’d rather have had anything stolen from him than the precious whistle, his glorious insignia as sheep dog trainer. Stolen—yes, that was it, stolen—his whistle stolen. The man in the mauve suit ought to be in prison—a robber, that was what he was—just an ordinary robber. He—he’d go and tell someone about it so that the man in the mauve suit could be put in prison. ”

“ When not engaged in tempting the Fates by teasing William, Robert was engaged in trying to win the affection of a female epitome of all the virtues and graces who had come to stay with the Crewes for the dance. This celestial creature was called Glory Tompkins. Robert called her Gloire as being more romantic. At least he spelt it Gloire but pronounced it Glor. Through Robert’s life there passed a never-ending procession of young females endowed with every beauty of form and soul. To each one in turn he sincerely vowed eternal fidelity. ”

“ William, in Mr. Clive's clothes, would have made his fortune on a music-hall stage. Strong men would have wept tears at the sight, but Joan's loyalty was such that only affectionate concern was in the glance she turned on him. William's face was set and determined. He thought that the end of his troubles was in sight, as he rolled the table-cloth into a ball and put it beneath his arm. ”

“ They met at the birthday party of a mutual classmate, and Evangeline Fish took her stand by the table and consumed cakes with a perseverance and determination worthy of a nobler cause. William accorded her a certain grudging admiration. Not once did she falter or faint. Iced cakes, cream cakes, pastries melted away before her and never did she lose her ethereal angelic appearance. Tight golden ringlets, blue eyes, faintly flushed cheeks, vivid pale blue dress remained immaculate and unruffled, and still she ate cakes. William watched her in amazement, forgetting even to scowl at her. ”

“ In real life, it must be confessed, Rosamund's method of locomotion did not resemble those of winged birds. But to-night Rosamund had no place in his thoughts. He was rescuing a graceful, dark-eyed, beautiful girl from incredible dangers—from robber chieftains, from surging floods, from savage cannibals, from onrushng trains and motor-cars. In his dreams the whole forces of Nature seemed bent upon the extermination of the graceful, dark-eyed, beautiful girl, and he alone prevented it. ”

“ As William entered, the cow turned round and switched its tail against the baby’s head. At the piercing howl that followed, the whole band of outlaws entered the barn.
“What are you doing to the poor little thing?” said Douglas to William.
“It’s Henry’s cow,” said William despairingly. “It hit it. Oh, go on, shut up! Do shut up.”
The howls redoubled.
“You brought it,” said Henry accusingly, raising his voice to be heard above the baby’s fury and indignation. “Can’t you stop it? Not much sense taking babies about if you don’t know how to stop ’em crying!” ”

“ When I paid my first visit after his wedding he said to me: "Have you seen Felicity?" Helen was there, so I only said "Yes," but I saw in his eyes that he, too, had seen Felicity, and, that the memory repaid him for the torture of his marriage, that his sufferings brought him a certain fanatical joy because he bore them for Felicity, and it was the only thing Fate had ever allowed him to do for Felicity. He never admitted to me the real motive of his marriage, yet once, when we were alone, I said: "Peter, it's all so terrible and so—useless. It's killing you, and then she'll only go back." ”

“ MARY CLAY looked out of the window of the old farmhouse. The view was dreary enough—hill and field and woodland, bare, colourless, mist-covered—with no other house in sight. She had never been a woman to crave for company. ”

“ The house-boy and the cook and the silver cleaning and the hose-pipe and the flood and Miss Polliter and the hens and the pig and the puppy and the infants had completely driven the cave and the Outlaws out of his head. Crumbs, wouldn’t everybody be mad!
For William had learnt by experience that with a strange perversity parents who had mourned their children as lost or dead are generally for some reason best known to themselves intensely irritated to find that they have been alive and well and near them all the time. ”