Richmal Crompton

“ The drawing-room door opened and a chatter of conversation and a rustling of dresses arose from the hall. Oh, crumbs! They were going in to supper. Yes, the dining-room door closed; the coast was clear. William took out the rather battered-looking delicacy from under the bed and considered it thoughtfully. The dish was big and awkwardly shaped. He must find something that would go under his coat better than that. He couldn't march through the hall and out of the front door, bearing a cream blanc-mange, naked and unashamed. And the back door through the kitchen was impossible. ”

“ 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. ”

“ Cuthbert was in the garden.
Though as old and as tall as William, he was dressed in an embroidered tunic, very short knickers, and white socks. Over his blue eyes his curls were brushed up into a golden halo.
He was a picturesque child.
"What shall we do?" Joan was saying. "Would you like to play hide and seek?"
"No; leth not play at rough gameth," said Cuthbert.
With a wild spasm of joy William realised that his enemy lisped. It is always well to have a handle against one's enemies. ”

“ He neatly escaped the donkey cart himself, but he crashed the caravan into it with such force that the caravan broke a shaft and overturned completely on to the donkey cart, scattering pots and pans far and wide. From within the caravan came inhuman female yells of fear and anger. William had fallen on to a soft bank of grass. He was discovering, to his amazement, that he was still alive and practically unhurt. The mule was standing meekly by and smiling to himself. Then out of the window of the caravan climbed a woman—a fat, angry woman, shaking her fist at the world in general. ”

“ Ethel was weeping on the sofa in the library.
"Oh, dear little William!" she sobbed. "I do wish I'd always been kind to him!"
Mrs. Brown was reclining, pale and haggard, in the arm-chair.
"There's the Roughborough Canal, John!" she was saying weakly. "And Joan's mother will always say it was our fault. Oh, poor little William!"
"It's a good ten miles away," said her husband drily. "I don't think even William——" He rang up fiercely. "Confound these brainless police! Hallo! Any news? A boy and girl and supper for twenty can't disappear off the face of the earth. ”

“ William arose with a distinct sense that something important had happened. Then he thought of the reformation. He saw himself leading a quiet and blameless life, walking sedately to school, working at high pressure in school, doing his homework conscientiously in the evening, being exquisitely polite to his family, his instructors, and the various foolish people who visited his home for the sole purpose (apparently) of making inane remarks to him. ”

“ Put the nail in there, Ethel."
"Just a bit higher. That's right!"
"P'raps you're afraid of what I'll eat," went on William bitterly. "Well, everyone eats, don't they? They've got to—to live. And you've got things for us—them—to eat to-night. You don't grudge me just a bit of supper, do you? You'd think it was less trouble for me to have my bit of supper with you all, than in a separate room. ”

“ As William watched, his small nose flattened against a corner of the window, Nero and Dante arrived, having shared a taxi from the station. Miss Gregoria Mush, tall and gaunt and angular, presided in the robes of Mary, Queen of Scots, which was her favourite previous existence. Then Mr. Gregorius Lambkin arrived. He looked as unhappy as it is possible for man to look. He was dressed in a toga and a laurel wreath. Heat and nervousness had caused his small waxed moustache to droop. His toga was too long and his laurel wreath was crooked. Miss Gregoria Mush received him effusively. ”

“ And then:—
"Where's Joan?"
They searched the house and garden and stable for them in vain. They sent the twenty enraged guests home supperless and aggrieved.
"Has William eaten all our suppers?" they said.
"Where is he? Is he dead?"
"People will never forget," wailed Mrs. Brown. "It's simply dreadful. And where is William?"
They rang up police-stations for miles around.
"If they've eaten all that food—the two of them," said Mrs. Brown almost distraught, "they'll die! They may be dying in some hospital now! And I do wish Mrs. Murford would stop ringing up about Sadie's cloak. ”

“ For not one scream came but many. They rent the still summer air, mingled with the sound of breaking glass and crockery. The mule continued his mad career down the hill, his reins trailing in the dust. In the distance was a little gipsy's donkey cart full of pots and pans. William found his voice suddenly and began to warn the mule.
William's hair stood on end. He almost forgot to cling to the seat. For not one scream came but many, mingled with the sound of breaking glass and crockery.
"Look out, you ole softie!" he yelled. "Look out for the donk, you ole ass." ”

“ William's father, who knew William, was smiling sardonically.
William's mother was smiling proudly.
"You're always running down William," she said to the world in general, "but look at him now. He's got a very important part, and he said nothing about it at home. I call it very nice and modest of him. And what a dear little girl."
Bettine, standing on the platform with William's hand holding hers and the Maypole dancers dancing round her, was radiant with pride and happiness.
And Evangeline Fish in the wood-shed was just beginning the last currant cake. ”

“ When William returned, all excitement was over and Uncle George was consuming roast beef with energy.
"Ah, William," he said, "we must complete the History lesson soon. Nothing like History. Nothing like History. Nothing like History. Teaches us to endure the buffets of fate with equanimity and to smile at misfortune. Then we must do some Geography." William groaned. "Most fascinating study. Rivers, mountains, cities, etc. Most improving. The morning should be devoted to intellectual work at your age, William, and the afternoon to the quiet pursuit of—some improving hobby. ”

“ Then the sideboard and hat-stand were moved to one side, and finally there emerged from the struggle—William and Jumble. Jumble's coat was covered with little pieces of horsehair, as though from the interior of a chair. William's jersey was torn from shoulder to hem. He looked stern and indignant.
William's jersey was torn from shoulder to hem. He looked stern and indignant.
"A nice thing to do!" he began bitterly. "Shuttin' me up in that ole van. How d'you expect me to breathe, shut in with ole bits of furniture. Folks can't live without air, can they? A nice thing if you'd found me dead!" ”

“ It looks a bit funny, doesn't it, to give a party and leave out your only son, at least,"—with a glance at Robert, and a slight concession to accuracy—"to leave out one of your only two sons? It looks a bit queer, surely. That's all I'm thinking of—how it will look."
"A bit higher your end," said Ethel.
"Yes, that's better," said William's mother.
"It's a young folks' party," went on William, warming to his subject. "I heard you tell Aunt Jane it was a young folks' party. Well, I'm young, aren't I? I'm eleven. Do you want me any younger? You aren't ashamed of folks seeing me, are you! ”

“ On the night of the play the Hall was packed, and Mrs. de Vere Carter was in a flutter of excitement and importance.
"Yes, the dear children are splendid, and they look beautiful! We've all worked so hard. Yes, entirely my own composition. I only hope that William Brown won't murder my poetry as he does at rehearsals." ”

“ William was a brave boy, but he had experienced a moment of cold terror when first he had approached his captive. The first note of the quavering high-pitched voice had, however, reassured him. He instantly knew himself to be the better man. His captive's obvious terror of his pop-gun almost persuaded him that he held in his hand some formidable death-dealing instrument. As a matter of fact Mr. Percival Jones was temperamentally an abject coward.
"You walk up to the seats," commanded William. "I've took you prisoner for smugglin' an'—an'—jus' walk up to the seats." ”

“ Get on with the play!" moaned Mrs. de Vere Carter. "But you've quite destroyed the atmosphere, William. You've spoilt the beautiful story. But hurry up, it's time for the grandmother's cottage scene now."
Not a word of William's speeches was audible in the next scene, but his attack on and consumption of the aged grandmother was one of the most realistic parts of the play, especially considering the fact that his arms were imprisoned.
"Not so roughly, William!" said the prompter in a sibilant whisper. "Don't make so much noise. They can't hear a word anyone's saying." ”

“ His usual feeling of mild contempt for Uncle George was beginning to give way to one which was much stronger.
"Now, William," said Uncle George at breakfast, "I'm afraid it's going to rain to-day, so we'll do a little work together this morning, shall we? Nothing like work, is there? Your Arithmetic's a bit shaky, isn't it? We'll rub that up. We love our work, don't we?" ”

“ It was lunch time when William arrived at the boarding-house. Mr. Percival Jones had moved his place so as to be nearer Ethel. He was now convinced that she was possessed of every virtue his future "spouse" could need. He conversed brightly and incessantly during the meal. Mr. Brown grew restive.
"The man will drive me mad," he said afterwards. "Bleating away! What's he bleating about anyway? Can't you stop him bleating, Ethel? You seem to have influence. ”

“ In a moment of weakness, finding that his trunk was only three-quarter filled by his things, she slipped in his beloved buckskin, while William himself put the pop-gun inside when no one was looking.
They had been unable to obtain a furnished house, so had to be content with a boarding house. Mr. Brown was eloquent on the subject.
"If you're deliberately turning that child loose into a boarding-house full, presumably, of quiet, inoffensive people, you deserve all you get. It's nothing to do with me. I'm going to have a rest cure. I've disowned him. He can do as he likes." ”

“ Why don't they have May Kings?" said William, stung by this insult to his sex.
"Why shouldn't there be a May King?"
"I speck they do, really, only p'raps Miss Dewhurst doesn't know abut it."
"Well, it doesn't seem sense not having May Kings, does it? I wun't mind bein' May King if you was May Queen."
The rehearsal was, on the whole, a failure.
"William Brown, don't hold the train so high. No, not quite so low. Don't stand so near the Queen, William Brown. No, not so far away—you'll pull the train off. Walk when the Queen walks, William Brown, don't stand still. Sing up, please, train bearer. ”

“ But he felt also in need of bodily sustenance, so he purchased a bun and a bottle of lemonade at a neighbouring shop and sat by the roadside to recover. There were no signs of his pursuers.
He felt reluctant to return home. It is always well to follow a morning's absence from school by an afternoon's absence from school. A return in the afternoon is ignominious and humiliating. William wandered round the neighbourhood experiencing all the thrill of the outlaw. Certainly by this time the gardener would have complained to his father, probably the schoolmistress would have sent a note. ”

“ Mrs. Brown was past expostulating. "Take them all down to the kitchen to cook," she said. "She's waiting for them."
On the stairs William met Aunt Lucy carrying her volume of sermons.
"It's not quite the same as the spoken word, William, dear," she said. "It hasn't the force. The written word doesn't reach the heart as the spoken word does, but I don't want you to worry about it."
William walked on as if he had not heard her.
It was Aunt Jane who insisted on the little entertainment after tea. ”

“ That evening William heard his father say to his mother:
"She came down to meet him at the station to-night. I'm afraid his doom is sealed. He's no power of resistance, and she's got her eye on him."
"Who's got her eye on him?" said William with interest.
"Be quiet!" said his father with the brusqueness of the male parent.
But William began to see how things stood. And William liked Mr. Lambkin.
One evening he saw from his window Mr. Gregorius Lambkin walking with Miss Gregoria Mush in Miss Gregoria Mush's garden. Mr. Gregorius Lambkin did not look happy. ”

“ Mr. Blank did. He emptied Mr. Brown's cigar-box into his pocket. He drank three glasses of Mr. Brown's whiskey and soda. While William's back was turned he filled his pockets with the silver ornaments from the mantel-piece. He began to inspect the drawers in Mr. Brown's desk. Then:
Mr. Blank made himself quite at home.
"William! Come to tea!"
"You stay here," whispered William. "I'll bring you some."
But luck was against him. It was a visitors' tea in the drawing-room, and Mrs. de Vere Carter, a neighbour, there, in all her glory. She rose from her seat with an ecstatic murmur. ”

“ Blank's old green-black cap, long, untidy hair, dirty, lined, sly old face, muddy clothes and gaping boots, and decided quite finally that his mother would not allow him in her drawing-room.
"Will you," he said tentatively, "will you come roun' an' see our back garden? If we go behind these ole bushes and keep close along the wall, no one'll see us."
To William's relief Mr. Blank did not seem to resent the suggestion of secrecy. They crept along the wall in silence except for Jumble, who loudly worried Mr. Blank's trailing boot-strings as he walked. ”

“ While he was still afire with silent indignation Aunt Lucy returned from church.
"The vicar didn't preach," she said. "They say that this morning's sermon was beautiful. As I say, I don't want William to reproach himself, but I feel that he has deprived me of a very great treat."
"Nice Willum!" murmured Jimmy sleepily from his corner.
As William undressed that night his gaze fell upon the flower-bedecked motto: "A Busy Day is a Happy Day."
"It's a story," he said, indignantly. "It's jus' a wicked ole story." ”