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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/77065-0.txt b/77065-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a3e8d78 --- /dev/null +++ b/77065-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,2601 @@ + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77065 *** + + + + + +THE BARBAROUS BABES + + + + + THE BARBAROUS BABES + + BEING THE MEMOIRS OF MOLLY + + BY + EDITH AYRTON + (MRS. ISRAEL ZANGWILL) + + [Illustration] + + LONDON AND EDINBURGH + R. BRIMLEY JOHNSON + MCMIV + + + + + To + THE MEMORY + OF + MY MOTHER + + + + +CONTENTS + +[Illustration] + + + PAGE + + I. THE MARTYRDOM OF HUMPHREY 9 + + II. SAMSON AND DELILAH 24 + + III. VIOLET’S VISIT 34 + + IV. THE WHIPPING OF TEDDY 55 + + V. THE RAGE OF THE HEATHEN 76 + + VI. A FIRST NIGHT 96 + + VII. MOTHER 110 + + + + +I + +THE MARTYRDOM OF HUMPHREY + +(Reprinted from _Little Folks_ by kind permission) + + +It all started because Humphrey and me generally play together, and we +generally play at torturing games. Sometimes we let the little ones, +Violet and Ted, come in too, but they spoil things rather, because +Teddy is so tiny and Violet doesn’t properly enjoy even the loveliest +tortures. We have promised Mother, though, that we will try not to be +selfish, so we pretend we don’t mind their playing with us--much. + +I generally make up the tortures because I’m the eldest. My name is +Molly, and I’m the only one that has to use two figures for their age; +I’m ten. Even Humphrey is a good lot younger than me; he’s only nine, +and people don’t think he’s as old as that, because he’s very backward. +It isn’t so much that he can’t think of clever things, but he had an +illness when he was a baby and that makes lessons harder for him than +for other people, ’specially long division. He simply can’t do that; if +they try and make him, he sits and cries, and he has the most peculiar +way of crying of any one I ever saw. He doesn’t make any noise nor +wrinkle up his face, but the tears come dripping down slowly with a +plop. Sometimes he catches them in his mouth, but if he doesn’t, he +always licks them up afterwards, because he says they are good for the +digestion. He is going to be a doctor, so that makes him have ideas +like that. Once he invented a most beautiful red ink, only it made +holes right through his copy-book, and you couldn’t use the same pen +twice, so he had to turn it into a medicine instead. + +Though Humphrey can write, he can’t read yet, and that’s another +peculiar thing, because with most people it’s the other way. That’s +partly why it’s always me that invents the games. I read a nice tortury +book, and then tell him about it, and we pretend it through. We did +enjoy _The Tower of London_, but the _Pirates of Algiers_ was almost +better. + +One day we were having a lovely time over this; Humphrey had worked +rusty screws into my chest, and had clamped an iron band with spikes +round my head, and then he was lashing me with a waxed thong, when all +of a sudden he stopped. + +“It isn’t any fun,” he said, “because by now you must be dead.” + +I told him I wasn’t, and that in the book they lashed the slaves for +hours, and he must go on. + +He said, “Well, if I’m the torturer, I ought to be allowed to choose +the tortures, and I’m a very enervating torturer.” I don’t know exactly +what he meant, because he’s fond of using long words that make grown-up +people laugh, and then getting sulky. But I _was_ surprised when he +went on solemnly, “Slave, go and put your head in the meal-barrel.” + +Of course he meant that I was really to do it, because if one is able +to do a thing there’s no use in just pretending it; but a nice rage +Fräulein would have been in. She’s our governess and I expect she’d +have given me extra practising for a week. If there’s one thing I +loathe it’s the piano, especially now that Fräulein comes and sits +beside me. She used to be in the other room, which is warmer, and just +shout out every now and then, “Zu schnell, ein, zwei, drei, vier,” so I +could read the book on my lap quite comfortably. The music sounded just +the same, and you could shut up your knees quickly if you heard any one +coming, but somehow Fräulein discovered it. Well, thinking of the extra +practising I should have to do, I said to Humphrey rather crossly, +“You’re really too stupid to play with.” Then I walked to the other end +of the room. + +I forget if I said that all this happened one Sunday when Mother and +Father had gone up to town for a lunch party. (Mother hates being +away from us like that, especially on a Sunday, but they had to go.) +Fräulein had been getting the little ones ready for church, but now +they came down and we started almost directly. It was such a lovely day +that we took the short cut through the woods; I found some wild roses, +quite pink ones, and the paths were all mossy and quiet. I stopped +wanting to be cross; woods always do make one feel gooder somehow. It +is all so silent and lovely. + +In church it was very nice too. We had a most splendid sounding psalm, +and “Onward Christian Soldiers,” which is my favourite hymn, and we +didn’t stay for the sermon. By the time we got out I was perfectly +aching with goodness; I wanted to go away at once and bind up wounded +soldiers and things like that. + +I was going along planning it all, and how nobly I’d catch fever from +a poor drummer-boy and lie beautiful in death with wreaths all around +me, when suddenly I remembered what Mother once said about people +thinking they’d do great deeds and passing by the duties that are on +their path. So, as Humphrey was dawdling behind, because he was cross, +I waited for him and asked him if I should tell him some story. This +doesn’t sound much but really it was awfully hard, because you don’t +know how horrid Humphrey looks when he is sulky. Besides, the little +ones are always bothering me to tell them stories, so I get rather sick +of it, and Mother said that they must give me a holiday and not even +ask me to on Sundays. + +Well, Humphrey was certainly very nice; he caught hold of my hand. +“Molly,” he said very slowly, and wagging his head like he always +does; “Molly, it would be a gweat welief onto my mind to know if Lady +Flowence Gwendoline escaped fwom the wobber’s cave, but I’m going to +wait till to-mowow.” It’s horrid for him not being able to say his +“r’s” properly, when he’s nearly nine and a quarter, and Ted who is +only five can talk as if he were grown up. Humph minds so much though, +that we pretend not to notice it. Any way I don’t believe it’s a bit of +good his putting rubber bands round his tongue, to curl it to the right +shape, like we found him in bed one night. He’s been happier, though, +since Mother told him we all had our bundles of affliction to carry, +and that not being able to say his “r’s” was in his bundle. And if it +were heavy, Mother said, he mustn’t grumble, but just step out more +bravely. I’m sure, though, it isn’t a bit heavier than having hair that +will get untidy, and to stand still and not get impatient while it’s +being brushed, is a very difficult sort of stepping out. + +All this time Humphrey had been squeezing my hand harder and harder, +and now he said, “I’ve thought of a lovely new torture that I know +you’ll like. I thought of it all myself in church. It’s cutting off +your head and tying it onto a wampant horse and then dancing.” + +I didn’t know what to say, because of course he was thinking of Salome, +whom we’d had the second lesson about, and Mother doesn’t like us +acting things out of the Bible, but just then we saw a bush of burs. +We always like to have burs, because they’re so convenient to put in +one another’s hair and down people’s backs and nice tortury things of +that sort; these, though, grew right in the middle of a bed of nettles. +“Disagweable things,” said Humphrey. + +But when I saw the nettles I remembered more than ever about the duties +on one’s path, and how I’d promised Mother to try and be unselfish, +and I thought perhaps this would make up for some of the times I +hadn’t been. Besides, I thought how astonished Humphrey would be at +my bravery. So I just pretended that I was the Black Prince scaling +the walls of Calais, and I dashed into the stinging-nettles. I forgot, +though, that the Prince had got his armour on, and we’d gone into +summer stockings that day, at least the other three wear socks, but, +of course, I’m too old. But by thinking I was Joan of Arc as well, +I got the burs, and when I came out Humphrey was so astonished, he +couldn’t say anything at all, particularly when I gave them all to him. +I didn’t keep a single one. + +My legs were hurting dreadfully, so I pulled down my stockings to +look, and there were a lot of great white lumps; that was rather nice, +because sometimes things are horrid, like earache, with nothing to show +for it and all waste. So I sent Humphrey for some dock leaves, but he +couldn’t find any, though when you aren’t wanting them, you are always +seeing them. He said that if you rubbed on the milk of dandelions with +a dead mole’s paw, it would do just as well, but then we hadn’t got a +mole, except the one we are trying to tame on the tennis lawn, and he +isn’t dead. + +Poor Humphrey looked quite unhappy when I told him this. He was quiet +for a long time, and then he said, “I’ll go on lashing you with waxed +thongs if you like.” I did think that nice of him. Generally if we +quarrel, you might cut him up into little bits before he’d say he was +wrong. + +So I thanked him but I said it didn’t matter, because we must hurry +home. On Sundays we have tart for dinner, and if Mother’s at home there +is generally cream, and even if Fräulein is stingy about that, I didn’t +want to miss the tart, particularly as I knew that it was raspberry. +I forgot to explain that if we are late for meals, we don’t have any +pudding, at least at breakfast or tea it’s jam, unless there is a very +good reason why we couldn’t help it. I dare say if I’d shown Fräulein +my lumps on my legs she’d have excused me, but, of course, I wasn’t +going to do that; I should have liked the little ones to have seen them +though before they went down. They were very large lumps. + +It was when we were going along that I had the Great Idea. I was +thinking about the tortures, because I knew Humphrey would want to do +Salome, unless I could tell him of something else. “We’ll be Christian +martyrs,” I said suddenly. “You shall be burnt.” + +Humphrey stood still in the middle of the road with his mouth open, +like he does when he’s pleased. “When?” he asked at last. + +“After dinner,” I said. “Being Sunday makes it all the better. You +shall be Latimer-Ridley-and-Hooper and tied to a stake and burnt.” + +It really is a convenient thing that Fräulein likes a nap on Sunday; +we got rid of the little ones too because it was such a very great +secret that we thought Mother wouldn’t mind. Then Humphrey and I +crept silently up to the orchard; we are allowed there always, but it +seemed to make it nicer to creep. Humphrey brought his dark lantern, +but you can’t light it because it drops to pieces, and I believe +he was thinking of Guy Fawkes, but he said I couldn’t be sure that +Latimer-Ridley-and-Hooper didn’t have a lantern too. + +Our orchard is a very nice place; generally the washing is hung there, +but, of course, there isn’t any out on Sundays. So we collected a lot +of twigs and things and piled them round a clothes-prop, and I stuck in +all the burs to prick the martyr’s feet. Then I poured paraffin over it +all. I forgot to say that I had brought the can up out of the scullery. +When it was all ready I tied Humphrey to the post with some of the +clothes-line. + +He looked lovely, he really did, just like Latimer-Ridley-and-Hooper. +I took off the sailor hat and told him to shut his eyes and say his +prayers, while I hit him with things--not hard, of course, that would +be horribly mean when he was all tied up, but just pretence. And I kept +asking him if he would abjure his faith, because I was Bloody Mary, but +he wouldn’t, and then I hit him again. Only in the middle he sneezed +and I had to get out his pocket-handkerchief, which spoilt it rather. I +don’t know what Latimer-Ridley-and-Hooper did if he wanted to blow his +nose. + +Well, after some time Humphrey said that he was uncomfortable and must +be burnt quick. So I asked him once more if he’d abjure, and then I +said in awful tones, “Minion, fire the faggots.” + +Of course, I had to be the minion myself, because Humphrey’s hands were +tied. We’d brought up a box of matches and I struck one; and now comes +the dreadful part. I don’t know how it happened, for I threw the match +down quite a long way off; it must have been the paraffin or something, +for suddenly the flame ran along the grass and it all began really to +blaze. + +For the first second we were both so frightened, we didn’t do anything; +then Humphrey screamed. I rushed forward and tried to pull him out, but +I couldn’t, and I tried to push away the twigs and things, but they +only seemed to burn more than ever. All this time I was screaming too +in the most curious way and shaking all over though it was so hot. I +was just going to run and fetch Mother, because I’d forgotten she was +out to lunch, when suddenly the clothes-prop came out of the ground, +and Humphrey stumbled forward. When he’d got out of the fire he fell +down on his face and wouldn’t speak, so I was more frightened than ever. + +They carried Humphrey down to the house, for, of course, I went and +fetched Fräulein. He wasn’t crying, he was quite still, which seemed +worse. I wanted to go for the doctor, but Fräulein told me I’d done +quite enough harm and I’d better keep out of the way. So I went up to +the box-room and cried. My only comfort was that my hands were hurting +a lot, because they were burnt too, though I hadn’t felt it before. +Still I couldn’t pretend to be Casabianca like Humphrey might have, I +could only think I was a murderer and going to be hanged, and there +wasn’t much comfort even in that. + +I don’t know how long I stopped there, but I didn’t have any tea nor +supper either, and I cried so that my face felt quite stiff. At last, +as it was getting dark, Mother came in. She didn’t see me, but she said +my name softly; that made me feel dreadful. So I just sobbed out, “Is +he dead like Latimer-Ridley-and-Hooper?” + +But suddenly Mother took me up in her arms. “Oh, no, no, my poor little +girl,” she said. “He isn’t very badly burnt, he only fainted.” Then she +carried me downstairs, just as if I were one of the little ones, and +when she saw my hands she quite cried out. She put oil and cotton-wool +on to them, and it was lovely, and she brought me some soup and helped +me to undress. I felt much happier. + +First of all, though, I went in to see Humphrey. He was in bed, and +he didn’t look very different. Directly he saw me, he called out, “Do +you know that you’ve got seven skins? The doctor told me so; and I’m +playing that I’m a wounded fireman in the hospital, but it’s no fun +without you.” + +I don’t think Latimer-Ridley-and-Hooper could have said anything nicer. + + + + +II + +SAMSON AND DELILAH + +(Reprinted from _Little Folks_ by kind permission) + + +Boys with long hair are always silly, and Lionel was one of the +silliest. I don’t know whether it was having the curls that had done +it, or if he had been born stupid, but any way he used to make a most +awful fuss if he knocked himself or cut his finger, and he liked to +have his hands clean, and cried if you didn’t always play just what he +wanted. Another peculiar thing about him was that he seemed to enjoy +it, if visitors noticed him or admired his hair, instead of escaping as +any of us would have done. Fortunately they don’t pay much attention to +us, because our hair is short. At least mine and Humphrey’s is, and +though Violet’s has been allowed to grow, it is quite straight, and an +ugly sort of lighty brown in colour. As for Teddy, he is only four, so +his hair doesn’t count. + +Though I’ve spoken of Lionel here by his proper name, we didn’t call +him that. It was much too long, and so we christened him “Macassar +Oil,” because I discovered that the first part of Lionel written +backwards spells oil, and Cousin Florence does put stuff on his hair. +She didn’t seem a bit pleased though, when I explained it to her, +though I don’t believe she’d have ever thought of it for herself. +Cousin Florence is Lionel’s mother, and they’ve always lived in India, +so we children had never seen them until they came to stay with us. + +It was funny, but though we’d never wanted people to do anything before +but leave us alone, we found that we didn’t a bit like it always being +Lionel and his curls that every one made such a fuss over. I don’t +mean, of course, that Mother was any different, but she was so busy +that she couldn’t attend to us much, for there was a dinner party +and lots of other things to amuse Cousin Florence, and cook’s temper +is always awful. Why, some evenings she couldn’t even come to say +good-night to us and tuck us up, (I mean Mother, not cook), and that +makes everything seem horrid. + +It wasn’t only Lionel that was such a trial, but Cousin Florence was +always there too. She said she liked to watch us play, as if we could +do anything with a grown-up person looking on, and just at that time +we were in the middle of a most exciting game, where Humphrey was my +grandfather and very strict and nearly starved and beat me to death. +One day we couldn’t stand it any longer, so Humph and I ran off and +left Cousin Florence and Lionel. We hid all the afternoon in the cave +we’ve discovered, where you have to sit quite doubled up because it’s +so small and secret, and it was lovely. But Mother made us promise +not to do it again. She said Bayard wouldn’t have done it nor any +one like that, because they considered the laws of hospitality to be +most sacred, and that they showed politeness to a visitor even if +he’d insulted them. So after that we always played with Lionel, but +underneath Humph and I had another game all the time, and that helped +us. We pretended that we were Knights of the Round Table, and that +Lionel was the Unwelcome Guest, who had to be courteously entreated; we +said “please” and “thank you” to him in almost every sentence. Really +that was the only game at which Lionel was much good, for he didn’t +seem to understand pretending at all, so he always had to act a passing +gentleman or some silly thing of that sort. He couldn’t even be a +regiment of soldiers properly. + +Any one would think that things were bad enough like this, but it was +much worse when Macassar Oil’s grandmother came to stay too. She wasn’t +any relation of ours really, but she told us to call her Aunt Arabella, +and so we did, although we didn’t want to. I didn’t like her from the +first, though I never guessed that she’d take to watching us as well +as Cousin Florence. But the most insulting part was that we found out +they did it because they didn’t like to leave Lionel alone with us. +They said that we were so rough and would hurt him or something, just +because Humphrey once knocked him down, and as Lionel is eleven months +older, I’m sure he ought to have been ashamed not to be able to take +care of himself. Besides that was before Mother told us about Bayard. +Another horrid thing that Cousin Florence and Aunt Arabella did, was +always to make out that Lionel had won in races, and if Fräulein, our +governess, was there, she was just as bad, and they didn’t seem to +think it dreadful when Lionel cheated or anything, but only said to one +another, in French, how sweet he looked with his golden hair and things +like that. + +Well, we tried to bear it and be good--we really did. It was most +unlucky that just the day when I was feeling particularly cross with +Lionel, because he’d gone in to lunch with the grown-ups, and Humph +and I were too untidy, that I happened to see the picture of Samson in +the old scrap-book. I won’t tell you more about it now, because you’ll +understand better further on, but it was that picture that put the +whole thing into my head. + +I’d better say at once that of course we knew that what we meant to +do was naughty, though we pretended to ourselves that it wasn’t; +but we really didn’t know _how_ naughty it was until Mother told us +afterwards. Besides, we didn’t wait to let ourselves think, which +Mother says is always a mistake, for it was directly after lunch that +it all happened. + +I don’t think I’ve said that in the afternoon Lionel always went to +sleep; he really does just as if he were a baby, only on hot days +Cousin Florence sometimes puts a rug and cushions and things for him in +the garden. Then every one used to leave him, for we children were only +too glad to get away, and so they didn’t think they need watch over him +any more. + +That afternoon it was very warm, and it all went most conveniently. +Instead of going up to the orchard though, as we generally did when +Lionel rested, we hid in the laurel bushes. Then as soon as Cousin +Florence had gone into the house I crept out. Lionel was still awake, +and I made him put his head on my knees. I felt rather mean at that +part, but it couldn’t be helped, for that’s what Delilah really did, +and Lionel didn’t mind, because he likes any one to cuddle him, instead +of only his mother like most people. Then I sat quite still though I +got the most awful pins and needles in my left foot. + +At last he went to sleep and I called “Man, Man,” softly, and Humphrey +came wriggling along the grass, like we’d planned. + +“Shave off the seven locks of Samson’s head,” I whispered, but then I +saw that Humph had brought father’s razor because it said “shave,” so I +told him not to be so silly, but to run and fetch a pair of scissors. + +Humphrey was very quick, I will say that, and Lionel didn’t stir, so +the exciting part could begin. Humph was the lords of the Philistines +now, of course, and I took the scissors. And then--it was dreadful I +know--I really cut off Lionel’s curls! + +Lionel never woke, and the scissors went snip, snip, most beautifully. +I did enjoy it, because I thought so hard about its being Samson and +Delilah that I couldn’t remember it was naughty. At last the curls were +all off, and though the hair wasn’t very even, not like the barber does +it, because it was most difficult, still it was beautifully short in +places. Humph had been looking on almost too astonished to speak, but +when I jumped up and cried, “The Philistines be upon thee, Samson,” he +rushed at Lionel like I’d told him to. + +Lionel, though, spoilt it all. He always does. He wouldn’t do anything +that was proper, nor have his eyes put out, but just began to howl. +He howled and howled, and Cousin Florence and Mother and Father and +everybody came tearing out of the house. They all spoke at once, and +cried out that Lionel’s appearance was spoilt, and all sorts of things, +and certainly, now that I saw him properly, he did look rather bad, and +quite ugly. The astonishing part was that they seemed almost as cross +with Lionel as with us, though I kept explaining that he’d been asleep +all the time, for that was only fair. Finally Father sent Humph and me +to our rooms very angrily. + +But I didn’t mind that, like I did Mother’s coming up that evening and +talking to me. It was dreadful. She said that she was disappointed in +me and not only had I been rude to guests myself, but I’d made her +and Father seem rude; and she told me that Cousin Florence and Lionel +were going away early in the morning, so what I’d done had practically +driven them out of the house. But the worst was when she said that she +had trusted me to look after the others, because I was the eldest, and +to be a help to her, but now she found that she couldn’t, and that she +must ask Fräulein to always stop with us. I began to wish that I could +be dead. + +At last, though, Mother forgave me. And she said that if I was very +good for a long time, then her confidence in me would come back again, +and so I’m going to be. And I’m never going to be Delilah again, never, +because I see now how wicked she was to cut off any one’s hair without +first asking her mother. + + + + +III + +VIOLET’S VISIT + + +The most astonishing part was its being Violet who was naughty and not +me. I forget if I’ve said anything about Violet, but the little ones +don’t count very much, for Ted is almost a baby, and Violet sits all +day making doll’s clothes. Violet is seven, her birthday was in July, +and she has straight, lighty-brown hair; I think her eyes are brown +too, but she isn’t particularly dark like me, nor fair like Ted. She +isn’t particularly anything, except good-tempered, and that she is +tremendously. I expect it’s because she’s rather fat, because all the +rest of us are “lean kine,” and we certainly aren’t very good-tempered, +although we don’t all have it in the same way. Humphrey gets sulky and +doesn’t speak at all, and Ted runs round and round the room slapping +the chairs and saying, “Beast, beast, beast, beast,” as quickly as ever +he can. As for me, when I get cross, I want to go away alone, and if I +can’t, I’d like to slap the others, which is worse than chairs, only +I don’t do it because it makes Mother unhappy; I believe it hurts her +more than them. + +The curiousest part of Violet is that the things she is told to do +are always the things she likes, so she must be an “_Engel Kind_,” as +Fräulein says. And when once she is told a thing, she remembers it for +ever; she’d make a simply splendid Casabianca. Humphrey and I always +think that, however much we’d been told to sit still and not wriggle, +when we saw the fire coming, we’d have forgotten all about it, and we’d +have jumped up and tried to put it out. It doesn’t seem as if it ought +to have been very difficult with all that water around, and I dare say +the Father would have been just as pleased really as if we’d all been +burnt. + +So you can understand now how astonished we were at Violet’s being +naughty, though perhaps what she did wasn’t naughtiness exactly, but +too much goodness, which seems to be nearly as bad. I’ve been wondering +since if goodness isn’t Violet’s besetting sin, but I suppose it can’t +be really. It’s something like being too punctual, I think. Father +used to tell us that the Duke of Wellington owed his success in life +to always being half an hour too early, but all I can say is, it’s +lucky he didn’t have our Fräulein. One day we tried it, because there’d +been such a lot of fuss about my being late for breakfast, so I got up +exactly half an hour before we were called, and of course I made the +others get up too. Well, when Fräulein came in, she simply stormed and +said I was a “_Dummkopf_,” and did I want to give Teddy croup playing +in a room without a fire? She set me half an hour’s extra practising +too; so that just shows. + +This all hasn’t anything to do with Violet’s scrape; that wasn’t my +fault in the least, no one said it was, not even Fräulein. If it was +anybody’s fault, it was Mother’s, because she hates paying calls. +I should feel just the same if I were her, because it’s perfectly +horrid having on your best clothes; you can’t climb trees, nor hang by +your legs nor do anything interesting, but Humphrey says he shall go +calling all day when he’s grown up, so as to get scones and things for +tea. Humphrey has got an awfully sweet tooth, and he is rather greedy +besides. Another thing he says is that he doesn’t mind whom he marries, +but he has settled to have a most enormous wedding-cake, and to cut it +himself. I like wedding-cake too, but I don’t care about it as much as +all that, and I’d sooner be a widow, of course. + +Well, to go on about Violet. How it all started was that one evening +Father said to Mother, “You’ve never called on those Crespignys who’ve +come to live at Boscombe Park. You really must, you know, dear.” + +“I don’t feel very attracted by them,” Mother said, and she laughed. + +But Father said it was no good being rude to people, and that the +Crespignys were new comers, so Mother ought to leave cards this week. + +“Very well,” Mother said, “only I shall be glad when Molly and Violet +are able to pay my calls for me.” + +“Well, it’s to be hoped Molly will discontinue her practice of smashing +people’s best crockery and spilling tea over their plush sofas,” but, +of course, I rushed at Father for saying that. It is a shame. I only +once dropped a plate when I was out calling, and once I upset my cup, +but the people happened to be awfully fussy, and Mother said I mustn’t +pay visits any more. I’m sure it wasn’t my fault that they had velvet +chairs, and no one seems to remember that it isn’t pleasant sitting +there with scalding tea trickling down your legs, and never say a word, +like the Spartan boy. + +In the middle of the commotion, because Father started tickling me +when I punched him, Violet said suddenly, “Can’t I go and call on the +Crespignys now?” We were most astonished because Violet is so shy she +generally cries if she has to see strangers, so I thought it was just +to show she’d be allowed to, because she doesn’t upset things like me, +and I said very crossly-- + +“Oh, we all know you are a saint without your telling us.” + +I felt sorry directly afterwards, because Violet got quite red and I +ought to have remembered that she’s very little and doesn’t understand +much besides dolls, so I got out Aytoun’s Lays and stuffed my fingers +into my ears to show I didn’t care at all. All the same I could hear +them talking, and Mother said to Violet-- + +“Never mind, dear, I know it wasn’t that. You shall go to call on the +Crespignys if your new dress comes home this week, my good little girl.” + +Mother was pleased, because she is always telling Violet she must +conquer her shyness, and she thought she was trying to. As for me, I +felt horrid. + +It was the very next day that Mother got ill, and that made us forget +about the Crespignys and everything. Mother isn’t very strong, and +she often has to stay in bed, but this was much worse than usual and +we weren’t allowed to see her for days. The one nice thing was that +Fräulein was in with Mother nearly all the time, so there was nobody to +bother us and we could do lots of nice things. We children used even to +have tea alone; we did like it. I used to pour out, and there were no +fines or anything if we spilt things on the cloth. Certainly it did get +into rather a mess, but that was mostly because Humphrey would drink +his milk up a bit of macaroni like the gentlemen do at Father’s club, +only they use a straw. Cook was so nice too, she used to send us up hot +buttered toast, and it was all most lovely, except, of course, Mother’s +being ill, which spoilt everything. That was almost too horrid to bear, +especially when one went to bed. + +It was the night that cook was kindest of all and gave us real tea, +that Violet wasn’t there. I remember it quite well, because we were +so astonished to see cook bringing up the teapot instead of our just +having a jug of milk, but she said a drop would liven us up in a house +of trouble. It is a pity cook can’t always live in houses of trouble, +it makes her so much nicer. Humphrey was particularly pleased, because +he said he’d always been wanting to try an experiment of putting the +milk and sugar into the pot and drinking out of the spout in turns. I +couldn’t let him do it though until after we’d had first cups, else +there wouldn’t have been any honour in my being Pourer Out at all. + +We’d been wondering where Violet was ever since tea came, for generally +she’s the only one of us who is punctual except Teddy, and Fräulein +washes his hands so he can’t help it. I thought she couldn’t know, so +at last I sent Humph to tell her, though he was rather cross and would +only go after we’d said three times “Certain true, black and blue, +lay me down and cut me in two,” that we wouldn’t touch his toast. We +didn’t like to shout for Violet, you see, because of Mother. + +Well, Humph was gone a long time, because he always takes longer over +everything than you’d think a person possibly could, and when he came +back he said he couldn’t find Violet. I wasn’t surprised at that and I +went myself expecting that I’d see her directly, but I didn’t. I hunted +everywhere, but I couldn’t find any sign of her, until at last when I +went into our bedroom again, I noticed that the string had been taken +off the box in which her new dress had come from the dressmaker’s. I +opened it, and her new dress had gone, so had her best hat and coat! We +remembered then that we hadn’t seen her all the afternoon. It was most +astonishing. + +I didn’t know what to do; I really didn’t. It was quite dark outside by +now so I thought Violet must have gone out and got lost, and I began +to plan about their bringing her home dead, but I didn’t want to tell +people and get her into a scrape, besides, Fräulein was in Mother’s +room. It didn’t seem either as if Violet could have done anything so +dreadfully naughty as to go out alone and get killed, besides wearing +her best clothes on a week-day. + +We’d finished tea by now, and we put crumbs and things in Violet’s +place to pretend she’d been there, but I wouldn’t let Humph upset her +cup, because Violet is so tidy it wouldn’t have looked more real at +all, and he only wanted to because he thought it would be so lovely to +spill things on purpose. About six o’clock Father came in and I was +just going to tell him, but the first thing he said was, “Why, where’s +little Mrs. Roundabout?” He calls Violet that because she is so fat. + +Father was as surprised as any of us when he heard she was lost, but +he didn’t think she could have gone out. “Nonsense,” he said, “she +must have gone to sleep in some corner,” as if anybody except babies +and grown-ups would go to sleep in the daytime. However, we searched +the house all over again. It was rather nice at first, only then I +thought of the Princes in the Tower and I was afraid I’d find her +body mouldering in the boot cupboard or somewhere, but we didn’t see +anything at all. Then Father and Stubbins (he is the gardener) searched +all over the garden with lanterns like in a book, but they didn’t find +anything there either. After that, they came in again and Father told +Stubbins to go to the village and make inquiries at every cottage, and +he was just getting ready himself to bicycle round to all the people we +know, when suddenly the front door opened--and there was Violet. + +She didn’t look a bit naughty, that was what surprised me most. She was +just smiling to herself like she does sometimes in church, and she’d +got on her best things, like I thought, and Mother’s black _moiré_ +parasol in one hand and her ivory card case in the other and the plush +case with the opera glasses over her arm. I think Father was all the +crosser because she looked so pleased. Anyway he almost shouted out, +“Where on earth have you been, turning the whole house upside down? +Upon my word it’s perfectly intolerable!” + +Well, after that it wasn’t any good talking any more, for Violet began +to cry, and when she once starts she goes on and on for hours and can’t +understand anything. Father asked her where she’d been about a hundred +times but she wouldn’t answer, so at last he marched off, telling her +to go upstairs and that she wasn’t to come down until she’d apologised. + +I did wish Mother was there; she’d have made it all nice at once. I +remembered though about being the eldest, and I tried to think of the +kind of things Mother would have done, so I took Violet’s hand and we +went upstairs together. When we got to the schoolroom I sat down in +the big armchair and I managed to drag Violet on to my lap, and I took +off her boots and hugged her and told Humph to try and get some bread +and jam out of cook because that makes you feel a lot less miserable. +Violet was still crying, but I sat there, though my arms began to +feel as if they’d drop off, when at last she sobbed out, “I thought +everybody would be so pleased, and Mother said I was to.” She wouldn’t +say anything else but just that over and over again, crying all the +time, so, of course, I couldn’t understand, but I just went on kissing +her and didn’t talk, like Mother does. It had never been so easy to be +nice to Violet before. + +It seemed a long time before Humph brought the bread and jam, but when +he did it was strawberry jam, which was particularly lucky because it’s +Violet’s favourite. I told Humph he’d better go away again, and then +at last Violet stopped crying, and so I said to her, “But what was it +Mother said you were to do?” + +Violet looked quite surprised, “Why go and call on the Crespignys, of +course. She partic’ly said I was to, if my new dress came home.” + +I nearly let her roll off my lap. She’d almost been doing it the whole +time because she’s so fat, but now she nearly went quite because I was +so astonished. I’d have thought she was making it up, if it had been +one of the others, but Violet never pretends. “How ever did you get +there?” I said. + +I could hardly believe it when she said she’d walked; it’s more than +three miles each way, and I don’t think even I have ever walked as far +as that. “Weren’t you very frightened?” I asked. + +I don’t know if I ought to put the next bit, but it truthfully isn’t +bragging because it is what Violet answered: “I thought I’d try and be +brave like you,” she said. + +Of course, after that I hugged her again and she went on telling me +more. + +“I _was_ dreadfully frightened when I got to the house and went up the +big steps. So I shut my eyes and said, ‘Gentle Jesus, meek and mild,’ +and at the Amen I jumped and pulled the bell. It made a dreadfully loud +ring and almost at once the door opened and there were two gentlemen +with white hair but quite young-looking faces and such pretty clothes. +Oh Molly, I shall dress Rhoderigo William Wallace like that with +beautiful red plush knickerbockers and----” + +“Go on,” I said, because I was most interested; it seemed just like in +a story. + +“Well, I said to one of the gentlemen, ‘Please is Mrs. Crespigny +indoors because I’ve come to pay a call on her?’ So he said, ‘Yes, her +ladyship is at home, but who might you be, Miss?’ I told him my name +was Violet, and that my Mother didn’t want to come, besides being ill, +and then I handed him Mother’s card case that I’d filled with visiting +cards of my own, like those you wrote for the guinea-pig. He took one +out and gave it to the other gentleman, saying, ‘John, go and ask her +ladyship.’ That is what they called Mrs. Crespigny, so I knew she must +be really a princess and that that was why she had such beautiful +servants. + +“There was a lot of laughing somewhere, but presently Mr. John came +back and said, ‘Walk this way, Miss,’ so I followed him into a big +room, where there were lots of people, but, oh Molly, they didn’t +have crowns on or satin dresses, or anything, they had partic’ly ugly +clothes, and all the ladies wore things just like gentlemen, only not +trousers; Mr. John was the only beautiful one there. + +“I was just looking round because there seemed to be such lots and lots +of people, when a lady came up, I think it was Mrs. Crespigny, and she +said in rather a cross way, ‘So you’ve come to call on me because your +Mother doesn’t care to,’ and so I said ‘Yes,’ and every one laughed, +I don’t know why. I stood there and I didn’t know what to do until I +remembered Mother telling some one that at calls the ladies talked +about the weather and babies from the time she went into the room to +the time she came out, so I said ‘Good morning, your ladyship. It is a +lovely day. Have you got any babies?’ + +“Well, I don’t see how I could help it, because I couldn’t talk about +her babies without knowing if she’d got any, but everybody looked as +if I’d said something naughty, and Mrs. Crespigny went right away very +angrily, and just at that minute Mother’s parasol dropped with a great +clatter, so I thought Mrs. Crespigny would be really cross, and when +I picked it up, the opera glasses dropped too. It was dreadful. One +gentleman said, ‘Allow me,’ and he put them over my arm again just as +if I’d been grown up, and I began to feel a little better, only then he +said, ‘Won’t you give me a kiss?’ I said, ‘No, thank you,’ and they all +laughed again. + +“There’d been a lady standing near, a very funny lady with a whip in +her hand, and quite a short skirt, and short hair too, and gaiters like +Father’s; and she said all at once, ‘Dash it all! leave the kid alone +and give it some grub.’ She truthfully did, and she was quite grown up; +but perhaps her mother had never told her she oughtn’t to use bad words +like that. + +“This lady was kind, though she was so funny. She got me some milk, +because Mother never said I might have tea when I went calling, though +I did want it, ’specially as lots of people were having it so funnily +in teeny-weeny little glasses without any milk or sugar; and the lady +got me a nice little pink cake too. Then she sat down beside me and +asked me why I’d come, and she hardly seemed to believe it when I told +her Mother had said I could go and pay calls instead of her now. She +asked me about the opera glasses too, so I said I knew people took them +when they went out, but I hadn’t been sure about calls, only I thought +it was a good thing always to be on the safe side, like Jane says. The +funny lady asked me who Jane was, and I said, ‘Our housemaid,’ and the +funny lady said it was a wise rule, although perhaps opera glasses were +not very customary when calling. + +“Just at this minute I looked up, and I saw a most ’stonishing thing. +A lady was holding a cigarette, and a gentleman was striking a match +to light it. The gentleman saw me looking and he began to laugh, and +he called out, ‘Take care, or that little girl’s eyes will drop out of +her head with fright.’ Then he said, ‘Haven’t you ever seen a lady +smoke before?’ and I said, ‘No ladies ever do smoke,’ and they all +laughed again, I don’t know why. They seemed to be always laughing. + +“The clock struck then, and that made me think of the time, so I asked +them if I’d been there twenty minutes yet, because I’d forgotten to +look when I came in. I’d asked Father yesterday how long people ought +to stay at calls, and he told me he believed twenty minutes was the +correct time. One gentleman said I’d been in the room twenty-one +minutes, fifteen seconds and three-quarters, so I went out quickly. +I didn’t know if I ought to shake hands with Mr. John and the other +beautiful one at the door, but I had such a lot of things to carry I +thought they’d excuse me, so I just said goodbye. That’s all. It was +such a long way home I thought it would never come. It was such a very +long way.” + +Wasn’t that astonishing? I hadn’t interrupted Violet, because I wanted +to hear it all, though of course I knew that she’d made a mistake, +and that Mother had never meant that she should go and call on the +Crespignys alone. It was no good saying anything when she’d finished +because she was nearly asleep, so I just went and helped her to go to +bed. + +Then I went down and told Father. I tried to tell him exactly what +Violet had said, and he simply roared with laughter. I didn’t think it +was funny myself, but just like a story; and I do think Violet was very +brave. Father went up at once to forgive her and say good-night, but +she was too sleepy to understand anything except that it was all right. + +Violet didn’t go calling any more, but the very next Christmas a most +lovely mother-of-pearl card case came for her, with her initials on, +which just shows that if you really try to be good it is nice in the +end. When Mother saw it, she said she thought the funny lady must have +sent it, the one who talked bad words, but Violet always believes it +was a present from Mr. John. She has made Rhoderigo William Wallace +a pair of red velvet knickerbockers out of a bit from Fräulein’s old +bonnet, and they are most beautiful, except that he can’t sit down. +Perhaps that is why Mr. John never did either. + + + + +IV + +THE WHIPPING OF TEDDY + + +We were all sitting so happily one evening when Mother told us. She had +been reading aloud to us, as she always does on Sundays after tea, and +it was the _Water-Babies_. It is a most lovely story, and makes you +want to drown dreadfully, but we had just got to the end. “That’s all,” +Mother said, and shut the book. Then she stopped a minute. “Chicks, +Mother has got to go a long journey too, to the Other-end-of-Nowhere, +like little Tom.” + +Well, we all thought Mother was joking, and we laughed. Teddy was +sitting on her lap, because he is the littlest, and we all snuggle down +on the rug around. The Dustman had come to him rather, because it was +past his bedtime, only he stays up later on Sundays. “Teddy going to +the Other-end-of-Nowhere,” he said, in a very sleepy way. + +We all laughed again at that. “Yes, and Mother is Mrs. +Doasyouwouldbedoneby,” Humphrey said. Mother didn’t answer. + +“Are we really going away, Mother?” I asked. + +I looked up then, and I was most astonished. Mother’s eyes were full of +tears. “Little Tom had to go alone,” she said, “and poor Mother must go +alone too, without her Water-babies.” + +All at once I got frightened. I clutched Mother’s hand hard and sat +still. I didn’t seem able to speak at all. “But how long for, Mother?” +Humph asked. “Fwee days?” Because Mother does sometimes go away from +Friday to Monday with Father, although we all grumble very much. + +We couldn’t see Mother’s face at all, for she was kissing Teddy’s head. +He was quite asleep by now. “No, for a much longer time than that,” +she said; “for more than three months--for the whole winter.” + +“Oh no, no, no!” Humph and Violet called out; but I still couldn’t +speak. I seemed to have expected it somehow. “But why, Mother, why?” +Humphrey said. “We haven’t been very naughty.” + +Then Mother told us. She said that when she was so ill last month (the +time that Violet went calling all alone) our doctor had said that he +thought she mustn’t be in England for the cold weather. And yesterday, +when she went up to London with Father, she had been to see a very +great doctor, and he had said just the same, and that she must start +off almost directly. + +“But take us, take us too, Mother,” Humph begged. Still I couldn’t say +anything. + +“I can’t, my little son, I can’t. We aren’t rich enough. It is +difficult for Father even to find the money for Mother to go alone.” + +“Think how nice it will be when I come back again,” Mother said +presently. “It will be getting summer, and we’ll go for lovely picnics +in the woods. And there will be surprises in my box, such surprises for +each one of you!” + +“Mother going away for two, five, six, a million years!” Teddy shouted +suddenly. He clapped his hands and laughed as if it were something nice. + +Well, I couldn’t help it; it seemed more than one could bear. “Be +quiet, you hateful, horrid idiot!” I said. “If you are glad Mother is +going, every one isn’t.” + +“Hush, hush, Molly!” Mother said. “Teddy is so little, he doesn’t +understand.” She laid her hand on my head. Then no one said anything +for a long time. Violet had started off to cry, and Humph was crying +too, though he pretended he wasn’t, so he wouldn’t blow his nose, but +kept on kind of snorting. It couldn’t have been that his handkerchief +was dirty, because it was Sunday. As for me, I was behind Mother’s +chair, and no one could see me. Teddy was the only happy one; he’d +gone to sleep again. + +“Oh, children, children!” all at once Mother said. “Don’t make it +harder for me. Mother hates to go.” + +Well, I hadn’t thought about it that way before. There was Mother going +all alone, and at least I’d got the Count of Aulon, (he’s my rat), +besides the others. + +“You’ll--you’ll get quite strong there, Mother, won’t you? and be able +to run races and--and all sorts of things, when you come back?” My +voice was hardly funny at all. + +But suddenly Mother began to cry; she really did. “My little ones! oh, +my ‘preshun cats!’” she whispered. That’s what we like her to call us +when we are very cuddly. And for a minute we all sort of cried together. + +“Why, this will never do; Mother is the biggest baby of you all,” +Mother said, and she smiled. “Soon there will be a big pond on the +carpet, and you will be really water-babies. Wouldn’t Teddy be +surprised to wake up and find himself swimming about the drawing-room. +Come, we must put the wee man to bed.” As Mother laughed, of course we +all laughed too. + +Well, in the next few days we got more used to the idea of Mother’s +going away, and it didn’t seem quite so dreadful. She told us that she +was going to a place called Algiers, where there were black people, +real live ones walking about the streets in funny clothes, and that +she’d draw pictures of them for us, and of course that was very +interesting. But still we were pretty miserable--all except Teddy. It +seemed as if I couldn’t forgive him. He didn’t mind a bit more than he +had done the first evening, even when he was quite awake. I began to +think he hadn’t got any heart, like Nero. Now Humph, though at times +you’d think he cared about nothing but what sort of pudding there was +going to be for dinner, yet when big sort of things come, you just +find out he does. And he is most awfully brave too, Humph is. Once he +chopped a piece off his finger and the blood was simply pouring out, +and all he said was, “Tie on the bit, quick; it must kneel by first +attention.” I don’t know what he meant, but there’d been a gentleman +staying who talked a lot of doctoring stuff with Father, so I expect it +was some of that. Anyway, it was very brave. + +The days before Mother went seemed each about as long as five ordinary +days, and yet very short too. It was a funny thing. At last the +morning came for her to start. We had to get up very early, because +she and Father were going by the 7.45 train, and so the lamp was lit +at breakfast, and that always makes you feel queer and choky. Mother +couldn’t eat anything, and Father was sort of scolding her all the time +to get her to; and we were sitting as close to her as we could squeeze, +all dressed anyhow, and not having had time to brush our teeth--at +least, Humph and I hadn’t. As for Ted, Fräulein hadn’t dressed him at +all, but had just brought him down to say goodbye in his little scarlet +dressing-gown, which is made out of my old winter jacket; he sat on +Mother’s lap and tried to hold a fork with his toes, and he still +seemed quite happy. I’d have liked to shake him if I hadn’t been so +miserable myself. + +At last there was a ring at the bell, and it was the fly. “Now do try +to drink up your coffee, my dear,” Father said; but Mother said, “I +can’t, I can’t.” “Well, we must start at once,” Father said. It was all +very well for him, for he was going to London with Mother and down to +the ship to see her off. + +Mother got up though, and put Teddy into the big chair by the fire, +kissing him all the while. He had still got the fork in his toes. +“Look, look, Teddy eat breakfast with his feet!” he called out, +pointing to them. He didn’t seem able to think of anything else. + +Mother went out into the hall with the rest of us clinging to her, and +down the garden path to the fly. Just as she was getting in, Father or +some one asked if she’d got her keys, and Jane the housemaid had to go +tearing indoors for them. While we were waiting, Fräulein looked round +and gave a little cry. There was Teddy creeping down the garden, his +little toes all curling up as they touched the ground, and no fork at +all. + +“_Ach_, you naughty, naughty _Kindchen_! Go in out of the cold. You +will have your death,” cried Fräulein, and she rushed back and carried +him into the house and then came out again shutting the front door. + +It took two or three minutes for Mother to get settled in the fly and +the luggage to be arranged, and then we all hugged her in a sort of a +heap and they began to drive off, Mother kissing her hand out of the +window. I didn’t see that though, Humph told me afterwards, because I +was running indoors as hard as I could tear and as it was I could only +just hold in the crying until I got to the bathroom. I’ve discovered +that you can pull out a bit of the wood that’s round the bath and creep +in sort of behind, so it’s a lovely place for times of trouble. At +least, I didn’t exactly discover the place, but I saw it when the man +came to mend the taps; he was a very nice man and gave me some putty. + +Well, when I got into the bathroom, I was very surprised to see that +the bit of wood had been pulled out already and was lying on the floor, +and then when I began to crawl in I was still more surprised because +there was a funny noise coming from inside, like the guinea-pig makes +when he is excited. I was so astonished that I stopped crying. + +I crawled quickly, though it’s very squeezy, but, of course, that’s +really a great ’vantage because no grown-up could possibly come after. +And when I got to the end, there was a large curled-up heap; I couldn’t +see much because it’s almost dark, but I thought it must be a dear dog, +so I put out my hand to feel. It was something soft, but not like a +dog, more like a person; then I felt some curly hair. “Teddy!” I called +out, most amazed, because I didn’t know any of them knew of this place +but me. (I hadn’t meant to be mean in not telling, but one must keep +somewhere for times of great trouble.) + +The funny noise was still going on, and then I remembered it’s what +Teddy does, when he cries very hard; he hardly ever cries at all +though, that’s how I’d forgotten. “What is the matter, Ted?” I said. +I couldn’t cuddle him because there wasn’t room, but I stroked him as +well as I could lying on my stomach. + +“Go in out of the cold,” he said. “Go in out of the cold. Mother gone +away for a million years. Go in out of the cold.” + +I felt I loved him ever so much more to find he really did mind about +Mother going away. “But, Teddy, you’d have only seen Mother for a +minute more, if Fräulein hadn’t sent you in out of the cold,” I told +him. + +Then he began to squeak with crying more than ever. “I was g--going +to c--creep under the c--carriage-seat and be a st--stowboy on the +ship. And c--come out at the place with b--black people. I’d g--got a +c--crust of bread in my d--dressing-gown pocket all r--ready. Mother +g--gone away for a m--million years.” + +Wasn’t that a good plan? I should never have thought Teddy could +have invented anything so sensible. I said, “Did you make it all up +yourself?” and he said, “Yes,” very pleased, because he saw that I +admired it. What made me feel dreadful though, was that all these days +I’d thought he didn’t care and was going to grow up like Nero. + +Just then we heard Fräulein calling, “Teddy, Teddy, where are you?” as +if she were in a great state of mind. So I said we must come else she’d +discover the secret place. We crawled out and I shut up the little door +carefully. Then I shouted, “Teddy’s in here, Fräulein.” + +I thought that Fräulein would be cross, but she wasn’t; I suppose it +was to sort of make up for Mother’s going, besides she’s nearly always +nice to Teddy. She just laughed and said, “_Du böser Bube_; you have me +so frightened.” + +She took hold of Ted’s hand and was taking him away to dress him, but +he caught hold of me. “Molly get me up to-day,” he said. + +I _was_ pleased. You see it had often made me feel rather horrid +Teddy’s being so much fonder of Fräulein than he is of me. Another +thing I didn’t like was that when Teddy was a baby, a real baby I mean, +I used to cuddle and nurse him heaps, but lately he’d said it was silly +and that I didn’t do it to Humph. He wouldn’t even let me kiss him. + +It was when I was dressing Ted that I found out something. He was +telling me more about his plan for going with Mother and how he had +meant to wait hidden in the carriage until she got into the train, and +then scramble under the seat of the train when she wasn’t looking. “You +see I thinked I could do it, because everybody says I’m so small. You +don’t call it a silly plan?” + +“No, it was a lovely plan,” I said. + +“I was ’fraid you call it silly. And if I think of lots and lots of +lovely plans, will you soon, in three, eight, a million days let me +play in the games with you and Humph?” + +“But you do sometimes.” + +“Yes, but you think I’m a bother.” + +I did feel horrid, because he is rather a bother, but we hadn’t meant +him to find it out. “There’s nobody for me to play with,” he said, +beginning to squeak again, “Violet’s always doing her dolls and +Mother’s gone away for a million----” + +“We’ll have a new game, and there will be a real part for you, like +Humph’s,” I said quickly. + +Teddy clapped his hands and jumped for joy. “And will you knock me +about and tortoise me just like you do Humph?” He meant torture only he +didn’t quite know the right word. + +I said “Yes,” and I began to think of a game that minute. “I’ve got +a lovely one out of the book Mother has been reading to us,” I said. +“I’ll be the Sweep Grimes, and you’ll be little Tom. I shall always +shout at you with horrid words and beat you dreadfully and send you up +the most difficult wiggly chimneys.” + +“And light straw under if I don’t go up quick enough.” Ted jigged up +and down, so that I could hardly brush his hair; he hugged me all of +himself. + +Humph and I get excited over our games sometimes, but I don’t think +we ever were so excited as Ted got. I believe he never thought about +anything else. He used to ask me to come up and say good-night to him, +because of course he goes to bed earlier than us, and then he’d hug me +and whisper, “Fräulein doesn’t know, but I haven’t really had my broth +but just a mouldy crust, and I’m not really wearing my new pyjamas but +just old rags, and this isn’t really a bed at all but just a heap of +dirty straw;” and I’d say in an awful Grimesy voice, “Be quiet, else +I’ll kick you out to sleep in the street.” + +All the same, it was through this game that Teddy got into such +trouble. One afternoon it was very cold and there was a horrid wind, +so Fräulein said that Teddy had better not come for a walk with the +rest of us, because of getting croupy. “I will lend you my German +picture-book, with the pictures that move, as a treat,” she said, “and +you must be very good.” Then she asked Jane to give an eye to him every +now and then. + +We hate going out for walks, it’s so dull, and this one was +particularly horrid. We were very glad to get back, and we rushed to +the schoolroom fire. + +“Why, where’s Teddy?” Fräulein said. “He must have gone to the +dining-room.” + +He wasn’t in the dining-room either, nor in the kitchen. Jane’s sister +had come to tea (the one who has got a beautiful tooth that unscrews), +and they were all talking and laughing very loud. + +“Where’s Master Teddy?” Fräulein said. + +“Oh, he was looking at a book not a minute ago as good as gold, Miss,” +Jane said, and went on talking. The servants do get rather different +when Mother and Father are away, though Jane is most kind. Last Sunday +she let me warm the sort of scissors thing for her that she curls her +hair with, and she has promised to lend it to me one day. It will be +lovely for tortures. + +Fräulein began calling, “Teddy, Teddy,” but he didn’t answer. She went +and looked in all the bedrooms and seemed to get quite frightened. +“_Ach Herzliebchen!_” she kept muttering, “if harm should have befallen +thee and _die Mutter_ away.” I wondered if he could have started paying +calls like Violet! + +At last I opened the drawing-room door. We hadn’t thought of looking +there directly because we never use the room when Mother is away. And +what I saw surprised me so that I stood quite still. + +There was a dust-sheet laid out on the floor very neatly, and it was +all covered with soot. A lot of soot had got on the carpet, too, +around. All the vases on the mantelpiece were covered with soot and +standing quite deep in it, and the pictures near had a layer of soot on +the tops. Even the chairs had a good lot of soot on them. And there in +the middle, hanging down in the fireplace were a pair of bare and very +sooty legs. + +“Teddy,” Fräulein called loud and angrily. She had come in behind me +without my noticing her. There was a sort of scuffle, and Teddy came +tumbling down the chimney into the fender, bringing a whole cloud of +soot with him. He had only got his shirt on, and he had the hearthbrush +in one hand and the poker in the other. He was dirtier than any one I +ever saw; he did look beautifully real though. + +“It wanted sweeping awfully, couldn’t have been done for a million +years,” he spluttered, very pleased. + +Well, Fräulein was furious. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her so angry, +certainly not with Teddy. And now the awful part comes. She caught hold +of Teddy and whipped him, really whipped him, not fun! + +Teddy was so astonished that for the first two slaps he never made a +sound; then he simply howled. He sobbed with squeaks all the way into +the bathroom, and all the time Fräulein bathed him and all the time she +dried him, and when she carried him into the schoolroom and put him in +front of the fire, he was still sobbing. Fräulein went to get him out +some clean clothes and things but he stood there, wrapped in a big bath +towel, sobbing and sobbing and squeaking until I couldn’t bear it. + +I went and put my arm round him. I’d thought it rather a shame all the +time, because I don’t see that he’d been so very naughty. No one had +ever told him he mustn’t climb up chimneys and sweep them. Of course +it was very silly of him, and I knew Mother wouldn’t like the soot all +over the drawing-room carpet, especially when it’s Persian and the best +one in the house, not to mention the chairs and pictures and it’s being +a trouble for the servants. Still I’m sure Mother wouldn’t have whipped +Teddy. So I put my arms round him and whispered, “Never mind, Ted, it’s +all right now. It’s all right.” Fräulein came into the room, but she +didn’t say anything. She gave me his shirt and knickerbockers to put +on, and went off to get his stockings. I believe she was rather sorry +she’d done it herself. + +At last Teddy began to speak, though he was still sobbing. “Th--there’s +one th--thing, though, she th--thinks she h--hurt me, but she +d--didn’t; no, not a bit.” + +“Well, if I didn’t, why are you crying, then?” Fräulein said, who had +come in suddenly. + +Teddy didn’t answer. He went on sobbing, but much less. Suddenly he +whispered in my ear, “She didn’t h--hurt me h--half as much as you +often do when we’re Grimesing,” and then he smiled a little bit. + +So I said, “Shall I be Grimes now?” and he nodded. Fräulein had gone +away again by now. + +“And we’ll pretend you swept a chimney at a very grand house and made +rather a mess.” Then I went on in the awful voice, “You scamp, I’ll +thrash you within two inches of your life.” + +“With a rope end?” Teddy said. He began to look quite happy. “I saw +a piece in the stable-yard yesterday, Molly,” he went on, sort of +coaxingly. + +“Shall I go out and get it to knock you with?” I asked him. + +“Oh, Molly!”--he put both his arms round my neck and gave a little +shriek for happiness--“Oh, Molly, I do love you!” + + + + +V + +THE RAGE OF THE HEATHEN + + +I advise you not ever to be a missionary. I don’t mean the proper sort +that get eaten up by savages and cassowaries, because you can’t do +that until you’re grown up; but don’t try and be a missionarying child +at home. If you do, the most disagreeable things will happen, though +perhaps that part wouldn’t have been so bad if Mother had been there. + +It was in November, very soon after Mother had gone away, that Humphrey +and I went to the children’s service. I know it was then because the +day before had been Guy Fawkes day, and so everything seemed dull and +horrid, like it does when there’s just been something very nice, and +that was why we went. Jane took us--she’s the housemaid and very fond +of things like that, not only reading the Bible, which any one would +enjoy, but she loves the most difficult books of sermons and prayers, +and she doesn’t even think the litany a little bit too long. + +I don’t mean that it was Jane that made us think about being +missionaries; it was the clergyman himself. He was a stranger, and his +sermon wasn’t a bit like other sermons; it was most interesting, and +it was all about setting a good example and being an influence unto +righteousness in the lives of little brothers and sisters and lots of +things like that. I began to think he must know I was the eldest. + +Well, I listened to every word he said, I truthfully did, and all the +way coming home I talked to Humphrey about it, and planned how to be +a home missionary. We settled that we must be very kind to the Poor +Heathens--those were Violet and Ted--because they didn’t know any +better, but that we’d have to be very firm. Of course, it was rather +silly for Humph to be talking like that, because he was really a Poor +Heathen too, but he didn’t seem to understand that part properly. I +didn’t like to explain it to him then either, and that was the first +great mistake, because afterwards he used to get awfully sulky and +cross about it, which just showed that he really was a heathen like I +said. Besides, how could he possibly be anything else? + +The clergyman had said one mustn’t put off doing good, so I started +directly we got home. Fräulein had gone out to see a friend, and we +were to have tea alone, which was a good thing, because it made it +easier. I went and tidied myself very nicely, and then I came into the +schoolroom. I said, “Violet and Ted, have you washed your hands for +tea?” + +They both looked most astonished. Violet said, “Of course I have, I +always do,” which is quite true, but I thought she might just have +forgotten that once. That was the worst of Violet though, she was so +good she made a perfectly horrid heathen. Teddy only laughed and said, +“Fräulein forgot to wash mine and now she’s gone out. Hooray!” + +So then I began to talk quite properly. I said, “That doesn’t make +the least difference; you should do your duty in life, if any one is +there to make you or not.” I said lots more, too, just as nice. I said, +“It’s a horrible habit to sit down to table with dirty hands, and any +gentleman would scorn such a foul deed.” I made him come with me to +wash them at once, though he didn’t like it, ’specially when I cut his +nails, every one, and pushed them all down most beautifully. + +The other two had nearly finished tea by the time we came back. It +_was_ naughty of them. Of course, I had to tell them of it, so I +began to talk again, but really, it wasn’t a bit crossly. I spoke +more in sorrow than in anger. I said that such disgraceful behaviour +was excusable in Violet, as she was so little, but that I should have +thought that Humphrey would have known better. I said that in any +respectable society they always waited to begin meals for the Pourer +Out. They both looked very cross, but they didn’t say anything. For one +thing, Humph’s mouth was too full. Suddenly he got down from his chair +without asking any permission, and walked across to the fireplace. Then +he started toasting his bread and butter! + +Well, I really didn’t want to make any more fusses, but what was I to +do? Fräulein had particularly said we weren’t to toast our slices, +because the butter will drip about, besides its being too nice to be +good for you. So I just said very firmly, “Come and sit in your place +this minute.” Well, he didn’t. Being a missionary is very difficult. + +Of course I started talking again, though I’d hardly had a bit of tea, +and I was most hungry. I said that Humphrey was disobeying Fräulein, +who had been set in authority over us, and that it was just as bad as +breaking laws, and that he might as well commit murder or anything. +I said very likely one day he would. He said he didn’t care, and that +it didn’t say anything in the Bible about not making toast, and that +Mother had never told us not to either. I said any way Mother had +always told us to do what Fräulein said, but it all wasn’t the least +use. + +I had to let him do it, for I couldn’t threaten to tell Fräulein--that +seemed too mean. I couldn’t drag him away either, because he’d got +the slice on his knife, and I thought he might get cut. Of course, I +might have got hurt too, but that would have been quite right for a +missionary, and rather nice. Any way, I determined that he shouldn’t do +any more, so I took the plate with all the rest of the bread and butter +on my lap and held it tight. Then I sat in silence and dignity. + +I shouldn’t have thought that even Humph could have taken so long +over one bit of toast, but I expect he did it to pay me out; it was +all frizzly and smelt most delicious. I sat there, though, and never +moved except when I gave the little ones more. I couldn’t eat a single +mouthful myself. Even that didn’t make me cross. I said in the nicest +way at the end, “And now, children, we’ll have grace.” + +Well, you see, the worst of it was we don’t generally say grace except +at dinner, so Humph answered directly, “Why should we? We never do,” +and Teddy copies every one, so he shouted out, too, “Sha’n’t; we never +do.” As for Violet, she just looked astonished. + +“My dear children,” I said most exactly like the clergyman, “we are +certainly going to have grace, and I shall say it,” but before I could +begin Humphrey roared out, “If we have gwace I shall say it, because +I’m a man.” It was dreadfully silly; just as if he could, when besides +being younger, he was only a heathen! + +I tried to explain this to him kindly, I really did, but he wouldn’t +understand. So it ended in our both shouting out, “For what we +have received the Lord make us truly thankful,” at the tops of our +voices, with our hands over our ears, which didn’t seem quite right, +and suddenly in the middle the bread-and-butter plate fell off my +lap--crash! It was broken to little bits. + +That was the first disagreeable thing that happened, for not even +missionaries like their pocket-money to be stopped for two weeks, but +there were lots more to come. And it wasn’t only big things that were +horrid, being a missionary seemed to make everybody cross the whole +day long. Now there was Father. You see, I was trying hard to be good +myself, besides improving the Poor Heathens, so I’d settled to count +ten every time before I spoke, and then I’d not be led into evil and +profane discourse. I got the idea out of a book I’d been reading. Well, +instead of liking it, Father used to get dreadfully vexed; the trouble +was that he generally asked me the question again before I got to +ten, and then I had to start counting all over again, so it was quite +a long time sometimes before I could answer. I did think it seemed +rather silly myself, when he’d only asked me something like, “Have +you been out to-day?” because it wasn’t likely that I should have +replied anything very dreadful. But in the book it said that one can +never tell, and that habit is everything. I did wish that Father hadn’t +thought me muttering and sulky. + +What I minded most, though, was the way the others went on. They used +to stop up their ears whenever they saw me coming and run away. It +was dreadful. Some days I’d forget to talk to them about their sins, +and then we’d be quite happy, but I always fined myself afterwards. I +used to throw a farthing into the pig-sty each time, because I thought +if I gave it to any one I’d get pleasure out of it, so that oughtn’t +to count; I used to have fines for lots of other wrong things too. +Besides this, I’d hit myself with whips and straps to try and make me +gooder, but it’s very difficult to hurt oneself much. It was a better +mortification when I wore Humphrey’s new jersey under all my clothes, +because, though it wasn’t hairy, nor a shirt, it was very rough and +tight, but Fräulein discovered it and was most cross. + +It was because I hated the others always running away from me that I +took to writing about their wickedness instead. I pretended that I was +a dumb missionary, and so it wasn’t my fault, and I used to push little +notes into their pockets all in printing, so as to be easy to read, but +after the first they threw them away without looking at them, so it was +no use at all. That’s what made me take to writing things on the walls, +where they couldn’t help seeing them, like in our room I put, “Don’t +have the cat in bed,” for Violet to read, because Fräulein doesn’t +like us to. In the dining-room I put, “It’s horrible to drink with +your mouth full,” opposite to where Humphrey sits. Instead of being +pleased, though, Fräulein got in a rage again, and said I was spoiling +the wall-paper, and made me rub it all out. It did seem difficult to do +good. + +It was after this that I thought of writing placards. It was all my own +idea, and didn’t hurt anything, and was just as good as putting it on +the wall. I forgot to say that I hadn’t invented that plan myself. I +took it out of _Belshazzar’s Feast_, and I do think they must have made +much worse marks than I did, because in the piece of poetry we learnt +it says: + + “In that same hour and hall, + The fingers of a hand + Came forth against the wall, + And wrote as if on sand.” + +So it must have made great holes. I suppose the plaster was wet. At any +rate, I thought that with the placards no one could possibly grumble. + +I couldn’t have done the placards, of course, if I hadn’t known just +the sort of naughty things that the Heathens would do. So I wrote +very big on large sheets of paper, “DON’T,” and then a whole heap of +different wrong things. I kept them all stuffed up the front of my +dress (it was rather loose, because of my growing so fast, and that +was the only helping part I had). Then when the others were naughty I +got out the right placard, for they were all put like the alphabet, +most beautifully, and I waved it in front of them. They used to get +dreadfully cross, and Humph tore a good many trying to snatch them +away, but I always wrote them again. It _was_ a good idea! + +It was out of the placards, though, that all the trouble came; at +least, it was partly that and partly our not hearing that Father had +come home unexpectedly. You see, it was after we’d gone to bed, so we +couldn’t possibly guess it of ourselves. So the next morning, when I +heard the water running in the bathroom, which is next door to the room +where Violet and I sleep, I thought of course it must be Humphrey. Ted +doesn’t have baths in the morning because of being croupy, and, as I +said, I didn’t know that Father was at home; besides, he always gets up +much later. I’d been wanting to be awake when Humph had his bath for a +long while, so I jumped up quickly, though it was very cold, and put on +my dressing-gown and tore round to the bathroom door. Then I pushed +a new placard under the crack, a very big one all done in red ink. It +said, “Dirty Pig, scrub your toe-nails.” + +Well, I thought Humphrey might be cross, but I didn’t expect what +really happened. There was a roar like a lion, and the door was pulled +back, and there stood a perfectly strange gentleman. He was in his +shirt and trousers; he was rather fat, and his face was scarlet; he +could hardly speak, he was in such a rage. + +I was so astonished I couldn’t say anything either. At last he did. +He shouted out, “_Unverschämtes Fraunzimmer_.” He said a lot more too +that I didn’t quite understand, though it was only in German. Then he +suddenly slammed the door in my face. + +Well, of course after that I didn’t feel very comfortable. I went back +to my room and dressed myself, but my legs were all going wiggle-waggle +most horridly, and I had a pain inside. I did want Mother. I wanted her +so that I felt I must burst or something. I tried the plan of thinking +that when I was an old, old woman I should have stopped being unhappy +about this horrid time, but there wasn’t any comfort in that like there +generally is. + +We children had breakfast in the schoolroom, because we always do when +there are visitors, but I felt so sick that I could hardly eat any. +And in the middle it happened. Father dashed in, just as I expected. +He was dreadfully angry. I don’t think I have ever seen him so angry. +He said that the German gentleman was a most celebrated musician, and +even if I had heard any idiotic chatter of the maids about his not +attending to his personal appearance, how dared I take it on myself to +give him moral maxims worded in the most insulting language? I didn’t +exactly know what Father meant by that, but it sounded horrid. Also, he +said that I stuck myself up as being better than any one, and that my +conceit was perfectly insufferable. After a lot more besides, he ended +up by telling me that I should be sent to boarding school at once. +Then he rushed out of the room again. + +I hadn’t said anything all the time Father was speaking, and I hadn’t +cried at all, because I wouldn’t let myself. As soon as he’d gone I +ran away to our bedroom. I couldn’t hide in my secret trouble place, +because I didn’t feel that I could ever bear to go into the bathroom +again. The worst of it was our door doesn’t lock, for Humphrey +lost the key once when we were wicked gaolers of the Tower, but I +barricaded it with chairs. Then, of course, I did cry. I cried awfully +until everything got quite dizzy. I was still crying when Humphrey +climbed in at the window, but I seemed too miserable to mind. He was +most nice though. He didn’t talk, but he stroked my hand and shoved +his big peppermint into it, just as if there hadn’t been any horrid +missionarying. Then, when I didn’t move, he said, “Father won’t go on +being cwoss;” and I said, “I wish I were dead.” So I did. It’s a horrid +feeling to have. + +All of a sudden Humph said, “Why don’t you ’splain it was _my_ dirty +toe-nails?” I just sobbed out, “I don’t know.” It was very sensible, +really, what Humph said, but I was too unhappy to see that; besides, I +was thinking more about the other things Father had scolded me about. I +said, “I don’t think I’m better than other people, I don’t, I don’t! I +think I’m a beast, and horrible.” Humph said, “No, you’re not.” Then he +wagged his head, and went away. + +The part that comes next I didn’t know at the time, of course, but +Humph told me about it afterwards. He _was_ nice; he can be most +’straordinarily sensible sometimes, though you’d never think it. He +went straight to the study where the German gentleman was sitting, and +said, “It was _my_ toe-nails.” + +The German gentleman jumped up very quickly, but Humph went on telling +him. He said, “You see, I don’t scrub mine very much because it +tickles. My sister didn’t even know about yours.” He talked in German, +because that’s one of the funny things about Humph, he likes it. It was +lucky though, because we found out afterwards it always pleased the +German gentleman to hear his own language. Then Humph pulled off his +shoes and stockings to show his feet. It sounds a naughty thing to do +in the drawing-room, but I don’t think it really was. + +The German gentleman looked very astonished, but he didn’t look cross, +Humphrey told me. At last he said, “_So_; but why was it written out +and pushed under the door like that?” + +“Because I stop up my ears and won’t listen when she speaks to me,” +Humph explained. He went on and told the German gentleman all about +the missionarying, and the gentleman seemed very interested. Then at +the end Humph said, “But my sister is starving; she didn’t eat hardly +nothing for bweakfast, and no biscuits at eleven, and she won’t even +suck my peppermint. I think she’ll soon be dead and it’ll be you that’s +done it.” + +When the German gentleman heard that he was very nice, Humph said. Of +course he must have known that people can live longer than that without +food on desert islands and places, though Humph was really frightened +about it. He took hold of Humph’s hand and said, “_Ach!_ then we must +go quickly and ask that the little sister may be forgiven.” I believe +he liked boys better than girls anyway, which does seem funny. + +The first thing I knew of all this, though, was Father coming up to my +room. He said in quite a different way, “Cheer up, Molly, I hear it was +only a mistake. You must be more discreet in your sisterly admonitions +though.” It made me feel much better. I went down and told the German +gentleman that I was sorry I’d seemed rude. He was all right, but +things weren’t really comfortable until he and Father went away again +the next day. + +I didn’t do any more missionarying after that though; it seemed to be +too dangerous. It was a comfort to stop. Besides, the next week I +got a letter from Mother, explaining that the clergyman couldn’t have +meant it like that at all, because the chief thing if you want to have +a good influence over people is that they should be fond of you, so a +plan that prevents that must be a mistake. She said, too, that people +didn’t generally have a good influence unless it was unconscious, so my +best way was just to leave the others alone and try and be good myself. +But she said I needn’t worry too much even over that (she seemed to +guess all about my finings and hittings though I’d never told her). +She said if I just loved people and tried to make them happy, I’d find +in the end that I had been good. At the bottom of the letter, just +before the kisses, there was a bit that surprised me very much. It was +lovely; I don’t much like to say it. Mother said that I’d always been +a good influence and a help to her, even though I hadn’t tried to be a +missionary. She said that once when she was speaking to Teddy about +telling stories (he does sometimes, you see, because he’s so little), +she said to him that heroes never told untruths, and he answered at +once and very proudly, “Nor does Molly, either.” + +It did make me feel funny inside. + + + + +VI + +A FIRST NIGHT + +(Reprinted from _Little Folks_ by kind permission) + + +I’ll never do any more plays, never. It would be all very well if one +could act all the parts oneself, but making the others learn theirs was +awful. Besides, you wouldn’t believe that the Corpse could give so much +trouble. + +We got it up while Mother was still away in Algiers, and that was the +first mistake. But we’d often had acting games before, and I never +thought that this would be so much harder. The idea of doing it came +into my head one day at lesson time, and it seemed perfectly splendid, +so I pinched Humphrey directly, and whispered, “We are going to act a +real play with refreshments and a curtain. I shall write it.” + +I was rather disappointed that Humphrey didn’t answer, but after a long +time he suddenly said quite loud, “Like Shakespeare.” Fortunately, +Fräulein didn’t understand. It was rather silly of him too, because of +course I didn’t mean to make it long like that. Why, Humph has taken +six months to learn “The Charge of the Light Brigade,” and he still +says, “Half a leg, half a leg, half a leg onwards”; besides, I knew +that Violet and Ted would like to come in too. + +That afternoon I began to write the play. I tried at first to make +it all up out of my own head, only when I sat down nothing seemed +to come. So I thought I’d adapt it out of a book, like Father says +all the best plays are done nowadays. I took Aytoun’s “_Lays of the +Scottish Cavaliers_.” I’m very fond of them, you see, and I know them +nearly all by heart, but I don’t believe it was me that loosened the +frontispiece as Fräulein says, just because I took the book to bed one +evening. Not that we read in bed, because Mother’s very particular +about that, but I like to feel that Dundee and the Young Pretender are +near me all the night. It was the “_Burial March of Dundee_” that I +thought would be the best for the play, but it didn’t seem to need much +adapting, because we could just have a bier with Ted as Dundee (he’s +the lightest, and his hair is curly). We three would march on bearing +it, and I’d recite the lay; then we’d march off again of course. + +So, as this was easy, I thought we’d have another play as well, and I +settled on “_Young Lochinvar_.” Humphrey would be Lochinvar; I should +have liked to be the bride, who is the heroine, of course, but then +I settled it would be better if Violet was, partly because I thought +Mother would have been pleased at my not being selfish, and partly +because it looks so silly to see the lady taller than the gentleman, +like when Cousin Sophy was married. Then I and Ted would be the +wicked mother and father. Of course, he’s heaps smaller than me, but +that didn’t matter because we’d both be old, and he might have shrunk +quicker. Our old nurse told us once that she’d got to the time of life +when she was growing downwards like a cow’s tail; and certainly, when +she came to see us the other day, she did seem a lot shorter than she +used to be when we were little and she lived with us. + +The others were all very pleased with their parts, and it was settled +that the acting should be on April the 10th, which is Ted’s birthday, +and Fräulein asked some children to come to tea. It didn’t leave us +very much time, but I thought it would do, because I never guessed how +slow Humphrey would be. At each rehearsal he seemed to get worse, and +the dress one was awful. + +To begin with, we left it to the very afternoon of the birthday because +the others said that when the children came, we could go straight on +and needn’t dress up twice. Only it made me feel nervous, and then, +just as we were starting, cook sent up word that she was bothered +enough with extra to tea and couldn’t let us have anything for the +banquet in “_Young Lochinvar_.” It was really because there’d been a +fuss about the butcher’s bill; as if we could help that! + +The others were very good, I must say, and Humphrey said that he’d give +us a Brazil nut that he’d got, and lend us his peppermint. It’s a most +enormous one, that goes different colours as you suck, and he keeps it +for when he’s put in the corner. And Violet said she’d put some of her +doll’s sham dishes on the table; still, that wasn’t very much for a +wedding feast. So I said perhaps we’d better pretend that they had had +the feast before the curtain drew up, and there could be just a goblet +of water for Young Lochinvar to quaff. + +“He couldn’t have been very thirsty when he had just ‘swum the Esk +river,’ and he would enjoy the peppermint because----” Humphrey began, +but I told him quickly that we wouldn’t have any eating or drinking +at all, for when he once begins explaining anything he never stops. +Besides, it was only because he remembered that he was to be Young +Lochinvar himself. + +So we began to dress up, and when they were all ready, they looked so +nice and real that I began to feel happier. Humphrey had on my white +flannel pyjamas with a red sash, like we always have for the hero; +they’re rather big for him, but he wears nightshirts himself, for +though he isn’t very strong, he never catches cold, and of course you +couldn’t be a hero in a nightshirt. The worst of it was that it looked +rather bare at the back, because the hero always has Mother’s fur-lined +cape, inside out, across his shoulders and we hadn’t got that, nor +Mother either, so we began to feel rather miserable. Even Father was +not there. He had gone out to Mother for the Easter Holidays. + +Violet had on the lace window-curtains and Mother’s old blue silk dress +that she has given us for dressing-up, and Teddy wore his pyjamas with +a green sash, of course, because he was the villain; at least, he +wasn’t exactly a villain, but he was a very disagreeable and horrid +sort of father for any one to have. He had on a tow beard, too, that +I made out of some that was over when Fräulein did the grates, and +I’m sure Mother won’t like them, though Fräulein does think them so +beautiful, but the beard wasn’t a great success because it would come +off in the middle. + +As for me, we didn’t know what to do, because I’d tied on so many +pillows to be fat, that I knew I couldn’t get on any one’s dress but +cook’s. So we sent Teddy down to ask her if she would be so very kind +as to lend us one. We always make Teddy ask for things, because he’s +pretty, and we’ve found out that helps. I think cook thought he wanted +the dress for himself, for he said she laughed a lot, but anyway she +fetched him her best one--green stuff, it was, with red plush trimming. + +Then we began. It was awful. Ted gabbled so that no one could hear +him, and Humphrey had never known his part properly, though I used to +run into his room every night after Fräulein had put out the lights +and make him go through it. He couldn’t escape me then, but often he +was asleep, which was just as bad, because even if you woke him up it +was no use--he’d be so stupid. Well, Humphrey seemed to have forgotten +everything he’d ever known, and the more I went on the more he forgot +until he began to say the “Charge of the Light Brigade” by mistake; at +last he turned sulky and wouldn’t speak at all. + +Violet knew her part beautifully--I will say that--and she spoke it +very clearly and slowly, but without the least bit of expression. When +she came to-- + + “With thee I will wander the wide world far, + For I love thee, dear Mr. Young Lochinvar,” + +which was a piece that I’d made up myself, you might have thought she +was saying the multiplication table. + +“Can’t you speak it like you really would to any one?” I said. + +“I’d never say such a silly thing,” she answered, “because trains +always make me sick and you know Mother says I’d be a dreadful sailor.” + +Well, I told her at any rate she ought to take Young Lochinvar into +a corner and throw her arms round his neck and kiss him, so that the +people could tell she was pleased to see him; and she did it, because +she’s very obedient, but it was just as if she were hugging a signpost. + +So I said she was a perfect idiot, which I oughtn’t to have done, +however silly she was, and she began to cry. + +Well, I thought we’d better get on to “Dundee.” It begins-- + + “Sound the fife and cry the slogan, + Let the pibroch shake the air + With its wild, triumphal music, + Worthy of the freight we bear.” + +We didn’t know exactly what pibrochs and all those things were, but we +thought some Burmese gongs and bells of Father’s would do as well, and +we’d brought them up out of the case in the drawing-room. + +But when I came to look on the mantelpiece, where I’d put them all +ready, they were gone. + +Then Violet, who was still crying, of course, because she’d been +started off, sobbed out that Fräulein had taken the things back and had +locked up the case and was very angry. They don’t belong to Fräulein +anyway, so I don’t see what business it was of hers. But there we were +in a nice fix. + +Humphrey said at last that he would blow his penny whistle. He hasn’t +got any ear at all, and the noise he makes is more like a railway +engine than anything else; however, I had to say Yes. Then Teddy +suggested that if we covered up his face he could do “Nearer, my God, +to Thee” on the comb. Teddy’s the most musical of us all, but I didn’t +think it would do, because even if the audience didn’t notice that he +was playing his own funeral march, the comb doesn’t seem to be quite +right somehow. I said we’d better tie the dinner-bell round Violet’s +waist instead, and she could shake herself now and then. Of course +she had to hold up the bier with both her hands, so she couldn’t do +anything else. + +We made the bier out of stilts with a long cushion tied between them, +and then I thought we were ready. So we lifted it up and Teddy climbed +on to the window-sill and got on to the bier from there. He lay down +and immediately the strings broke and he went on to the floor--crash! +He shrieked and roared and he wouldn’t stop, though I tried to put my +arms round him, because he had come a horrid bang, and I promised him +my old penknife with half a blade. He thought we’d done it on purpose, +so he’d only scream out, “Go away! I won’t act--I won’t! You beast, +beast, beast!” + +At this moment the door opened and we saw--Mother! We all gave one +shout and rushed at her. Ted began to squeal with joy instead of +screaming, and Violet stopped whimpering, and Humphrey started off +talking quite fast. As for me--well, it was dreadfully silly and +babyish--but now they’d all stopped I began to cry. I was so happy it +seemed as if I couldn’t bear it. + +Mother understood, like she always does. She didn’t say anything, +but put her arm round me tight and let me hide my face in her cape. +The others all started talking at once, and she kissed the lump on +Teddy’s head and made it well and said she’d do the bier herself, so +it would be quite safe. She sent Humphrey down for her fur cape for +Young Lochinvar, and she told us Fräulein was quite right about our +not taking the musical instruments without leave, but she was sure +Father would let us have them. And she said--but this was when I was +all right again--that it wouldn’t matter if Violet couldn’t quite get +the expression, because brides were always shy and that when she was +married to Father her voice sounded like some one else talking and +without any expression at all. And then she admired all our dresses +very much and went downstairs to ask cook to let us have things for the +feast and a bottle of red currant wine, which was more grandeur than +we’d ever thought of. + +After that everything was different, like it always is when Mother’s at +home. Oh, I forgot to explain that why we didn’t expect Mother was that +Fräulein had never got the last letter. Besides, Mother rather wanted +to surprise us. + +By this time the other children were arriving downstairs, and so we +started the acting as soon as we were ready. Well, you wouldn’t have +thought it after all this fuss, but the plays went beautifully; every +one said so. Certainly once Teddy opened his eyes as dead Dundee, and +when he saw that Mother was really sitting there he began to laugh, but +he’s got such a nice laugh one couldn’t mind much. Mother shook her +head, though she couldn’t help smiling, so Ted shut up his eyes tight +and screwed up his face all the rest of the time as though he were +going to sneeze. Humphrey, too, in the wedding feast stuffed his mouth +so full that he couldn’t speak, but Mother began to clap, so the people +didn’t notice that. + +At the end everybody clapped lots and we all came forward and bowed--at +least Teddy curtseyed by mistake--and then Mother called out, “Author. +Author and Stage-manager!” and the others pushed me on alone. I did +feel proud. + +All the same, I don’t think I’ll ever do any more plays--at any rate +not unless Mother is at home all the time, and of that I’m quite +certain. + + + + +VII + +MOTHER + + +It really did seem silly of Humphrey not to have measles with the rest +of us and then to go and catch them all to himself directly Mother came +home from Algiers. It’s just the sort of inconvenient thing that Humph +would do--not that he can help it, of course. I’m sure it wasn’t any +fun for him having it alone. + +I must say our measly month last year was most lovely; Violet and +Ted liked it just as much as me. Besides having Mother all the time, +there was beef-tea nearly whenever you wanted it and the most exciting +counting every morning to see who had got the most spots. The spottiest +one was king or queen for the day, of course, and the others had to +say “your Majesty” and bow whenever they spoke. It did seem grand. + +This must have been the most aggravating thing for Humphrey to think +of afterwards, because when he did go and catch it, he was so very bad +that if he’d only had it at the same time as us he’d have easily been +king every day. He was so ill that Mother sent the little ones away +into lodgings with Jane, for they make too much noise; and as Mrs. +Charlton happened to ask me to stay with her just then, Mother thought +I might as well go away too. I expect I ought to say honestly that +Mother had spoken to _me_ about making a noise as well as to the little +ones. It seemed as if I couldn’t remember about not stumping upstairs. +Once I did think of it, and I took off my stockings as well as my +shoes, so as to be very quiet, and went most ’straordinarily slowly, +but then the horrid shoes went and spoilt it all; they dropped down +right from the very top. + +Mrs. Charlton is a sort of aunt of Father’s and she lives up in +Lincolnshire. I didn’t know her at all, though Mother said I had +seen her once when I was a baby, which is never a very nice sort of +friendship. People like that always tell you how they held you in their +arms, which makes you feel silly; or else, if you were too big to +nurse, they say how naughty you used to be. It’s most uncomfortable. +Anyway Mother said that Mrs. Charlton was a very kind old lady, though +not cuddly; she said, too, that as I was going on a visit all alone +like a grown-up young lady I must try and be very good. So I promised, +and even though it mayn’t sound like it afterwards, I really did try. + +There was some talk of Father’s taking me all the way, but he was too +busy, and it ended in my going to London with him and then travelling +the rest of the way quite alone! At least Father did put me in the care +of the guard; I do wish he hadn’t, though the guard was a very nice +man. He poked in his head at nearly every station and said, “Getting +on all right, missy?” and I said, “Yes, thank you; I hope you are too.” +Then he waved his flag and we went on again. + +It had been directly after lunch when we left London, but it was +getting quite dark before we got to Corby. I was most dreadfully +starved too, because I’d eaten all my sandwiches very early. I thought +I’d waited quite a long time before I began them, but it wasn’t really. +That’s a funny thing about sandwiches, something seems to make you eat +them almost directly you start, even if you’ve only just had dinner, +and aren’t very hungry at all. + +It was the guard who came and helped me out with my things at Corby +station, but almost directly a manservant came up and touched his hat +and said, “Miss Lawrence?” I did feel beautifully grown up. There was +a carriage waiting outside with a very fat coachman and two very fat +horses; the man took me to this and held the door open for me to get +in. If only the others had been with me to see me driving all alone in +a grand carriage like that! + +Though it was very nice for the first minute or two, I was so +dreadfully hungry that I couldn’t really enjoy it; I could only think +of roast chickens and things like that. I did try not to; I looked +out of the window to see the country and I tied my sash very tight +like the Red Indians, but it wasn’t any use. It isn’t true either, +what they say in books, that starving people suffer most from thirst, +because I hardly wanted to drink at all. At last, though, we did get +to the house, and the servant showed me into the drawing-room, where +Mrs. Charlton was sitting in a very stiff chair. She got up and kissed +me, and asked me how my Mother and Father were, but she didn’t seem to +make me feel at all nice. I sat down in another stiff chair and seemed +to get miserabler and miserabler, I don’t know why, because they had +brought me my supper, though I’d have liked more. I was quite glad when +Mrs. Charlton asked me at what hour I went to bed, which was very +funny, because I’d never wanted people to talk about bedtime before. + +Upstairs, though, it was more miserable than ever. I never thought +paying visits would feel like that. If even our cook at home could +have come to tuck me up in her crossest temper, I’d have been glad. +It seemed so dreadful, I really didn’t know what I should do, till +I thought of Mother’s little penwiper, that she’d lent me because +I haven’t got one in my writing-case; so I took that into bed, and +cuddled it, and then I felt better. + +The next morning I woke up very early and the sun was shining and it +was all much nicer. I began to read a book I’d brought from home that +was called “_Vanity Fair_”; it is an interesting book, but rather +muddly, and the girl in it, Amelia, is a gump. That’s what Humphrey and +I call people who are silly like that. I’d read quite a lot by the time +the breakfast bell rang and I took it down to go on with afterwards. + +Mrs. Charlton was sitting in an armchair at the head of the table, and +all the servants were there for prayers. They seemed to be all waiting +for me. Just as if this wasn’t bad enough, the minute I got in Mrs. +Charlton called out, “What is that book that you have got in your hand?” + +Well, when I showed it to her she seemed quite cross. She said, “Has +your Mother given you permission to read this?” in the most severe way. +I said “Yes,” because Mother had never told us we mayn’t read anything. +Then I thought that as Mother hadn’t mentioned this particular book, +perhaps that wasn’t true, so I said “No.” Then I remembered Mother had +said once that we might always take magazines, and this was on that +shelf, so I said “Yes,” again. I said, “It’s got paper covers, you see.” + +“Don’t prevaricate, child,” Mrs. Charlton said, “I’m sorry to see you +are not more straightforward.” She went and locked up my book, which I +did think a shame, and the prayers began. It was horrid her thinking +I told stories, and very silly, just when I was trying to be so +partic’larly truthful. + +After breakfast we went for a walk in the village; and that wasn’t bad, +only another unpleasant thing happened first. I don’t think I said that +when I got up, I tied Mother’s penwiper round my neck with a bootlace, +because that made me feel nice. Well, when we were starting to go out +Mrs. Charlton suddenly said, “What is that untidy piece of black tape +showing above your dress?” + +I pretended not to hear. I didn’t know what else to do, because of +course I couldn’t tell her about private things like that. She asked +me again, but I still didn’t say anything. Then she shook her head +and said, “Sullen, sullen,” to herself, though I was just going away +to take the penwiper off so as to please her. At least I didn’t take +it right off, I tied it round my waist instead, where the bootlace +couldn’t show, only it was very prickly. It wasn’t my fault keeping +Mrs. Charlton waiting either, for I had to quite undress to do it. +I forgot to say that it was a very nice penwiper, that I’d made for +Mother as a birthday present, when I was quite little. It had “Mother” +worked on it in beads, and the date and how old she was; at least +I’d made a mistake about the last and put seventy-eight. You see, +Father used to tell us that was Mother’s age for a joke, and we really +believed it. Of course I was only a little girl then. + +The village wasn’t far away, and when we came back, I played in the +garden. There wasn’t much to do and so I climbed a tree. Almost +directly Mrs. Charlton came tearing out in a great fuss and said that +it was most dangerous and unladylike and that I was never to do such a +thing again. I felt very cross, because really it was a silly little +tree that a baby could climb, but I remembered what I promised Mother, +so I just walked about in a stupid, grown-up way and wondered if +lunch-time was ever coming. + +In the afternoon it was worse, because it began to rain. Mrs. Charlton +and I sat in the drawing-room and did nothing. There was a Persian +cat, who you would think would have been some comfort, but he was the +stupidest cat I ever saw. He just slept the whole time. Mrs. Charlton +asked me then if I hadn’t got any needlework, so I went and fetched +the mat that I’m working for Cousin Sophy’s wedding present. (It will +be rather late, because Cousin Sophy went and got married about a year +ago, before I could get it done; I do think she needn’t have been in +such a hurry.) I sat there and sewed for ages and ages until I thought +my head would drop off; at last I found I’d forgotten to bring the +skein of the silk, and I couldn’t do any more. That was nice. + +Tea came just then, real afternoon tea, with thin bread and butter and +two very nice little scone things on a separate plate and a little +jug of cream, that I’m partic’larly fond of. Well, I tried not to be +greedy, but I couldn’t help being rather pleased, when suddenly Mrs. +Charlton said, “Pussy is so fond of cream, I know you won’t mind his +having it,” and she crumbled up both the little scones and poured all +the cream over them, every drop. Then she asked me to put it down on +the floor in the corner. + +After tea Mrs. Charlton asked me if I’d like to read a little, because +she said she’d look out a nice suitable book for me. I was very +pleased, even though I found it was a book with a shiny red cover and +green leaves on it, which sort generally aren’t interesting. It was +called “_How Little Susan Saved the Home_,” and it was all about poor +people. + +It wasn’t a bad sort of book, though it was written rather as if you +had got no sense at all. It was about a little girl who used to wait +outside the public-house every night to come home with her father. I +don’t see that that was so horrid for her. When we were in London, the +Punch and Judy shows were almost always at public-house corners, and +once we saw a dear fat dog in a patchwork coat and the darlingest white +mice on his back, but Cousin Sophy would never let us stop. Of course +on wet nights it can’t have been such fun for Little Susan, but I dare +say they’d have let her wait inside, only she seemed to be too silly +to ask. In the middle of the book there was a very horrible bit, about +the father getting tipsy and kind of mad, but he got all right at the +end. It was in such big print I soon finished it, because I read very +quickly. + +Mrs. Charlton had gone off to sleep, so I didn’t know what to do. I +looked at the bookcase, but it was locked, so I walked round the room, +and there in the back drawing-room, rather high up, was a shelf with +some old-looking books on it. I went up to Mrs. Charlton to ask her if +I might take one, but she was still asleep. Well, I didn’t really think +she’d mind, because they were so shabby, so I climbed up on a chair +and chose one called “_Peregrine Pickle_”; I thought from the name it +might be about a boy who got into scrapes. It was rather disappointing +inside, and the s’s were funny and difficult to read, but bits were +interesting. It was written in a nice way too, not sillily like +“_Little Susan_,” and there weren’t any horrid parts in it either. + +Suddenly, as I was reading, the book was snatched out of my hand. Mrs. +Charlton was standing there looking furious. “How dare you take that +book, you wicked girl!” she said; “go to your room and pray for a +better nature.” I told her that I only took it because I’d finished the +one that she gave me, and I didn’t know what to do till she woke, but +she didn’t seem to believe me; it did seem curious and horrid. + +I went upstairs as she told me, and it was so dull that I said the +multiplication table three times forwards and once backwards, and +before that I’d repeated nearly all the poetry I knew, besides trying +to reckon out how much the horse’s shoe would cost if you paid a +farthing for the first nail and doubled it for each one. Of course I +pretended I was in the Bastille all the time, but there weren’t any +rats or toads or anything nice, and I was quite glad even to see the +housemaid. It wasn’t the real housemaid either, because she was old, +and disagreeable; this was one I hadn’t seen before. She brought me +some bread and milk for my supper. + +“I dare say you’re missing your little brothers and sisters,” she said. + +I hadn’t thought of it before, but directly she said it, I knew that +that was why I was so miserable. I seemed suddenly to want Mother and +them all so dreadfully, that I could hardly help crying. Lizzie (the +servant told me that was her name, and that she was the hupandowngirl, +not the housemaid), well, she was most nice; she seemed the nicest +person in the house. She said she used to cry herself to sleep every +night when she first went out to service. She told me about her home +too, and that there were twelve of them, and that they used to sleep +four in one bed, and lovely things like that. She was just telling me +about her pigs, when the bell rang rather angrily. + +“Lor, I must be off, the Missus will be in a fine taking,” Lizzie said, +and she ran away. + +When Lizzie had gone, I was just going to be miserable, but suddenly +she rushed in again, and threw a lot of newspaper things on to the bed. +“I thought maybe they’d amuse you, but don’t let the Missus see ’em,” +she said, and she tore out, because the bell was ringing more crossly +than ever. + +I certainly did know that I oughtn’t to read books when I’d been sent +upstairs in disgrace, and I’d better confess that at once. But then it +didn’t feel to me that I’d done anything to be punished for, and it did +seem so tempting. First I thought I’d just look at the pictures--for +there was one on each cover--of gentlemen shooting each other and +ladies in their dressing-gowns, with their hair down, and things like +that, all most exciting. So I began just to turn over the leaves to see +the names of the people in the pictures, but before I knew what I was +doing I was reading one story straight through. I truthfully forgot +then about it’s being naughty. + +It was a very interesting story, all about lords and dukes; I had never +read one like it before. They were most funny people, and always +getting fond of quite strangers and wanting to fly with them. I was +just in the middle, when suddenly I heard the door open. Before I could +think, I’d pushed all the papers under the eiderdown. That was the part +Mother minded most when I told her, because it seemed mean. I’ve tried +to think since that I did it because Lizzie had asked me not to let any +one see the papers, but it wasn’t that really, at least not mostly. +Besides, what Mother said was that if I had put away the novelettes at +the beginning without looking at them, and then have given them back to +Lizzie at the first opportunity, that would have saved her getting into +trouble just the same, and I should not have been mean. + +Well, I suppose when Mrs. Charlton came in I looked rather +uncomfortable; also there may have been a bit of one of the papers +sticking out. Anyway, the first thing she did was to lift up the +eiderdown. Then of course she saw them all. I felt awful. + +No one said anything for what seemed a long time, and then Mrs. +Charlton made a horrid noise in her throat and began: “You are so +utterly deceitful,” she said, “that it is not of very much use to put +questions to you, but I should be glad if you would kindly inform me +where you procured this degrading form of literature.” + +I didn’t answer. That wasn’t naughtiness, but because of Lizzie. Mrs. +Charlton asked me again, and she asked me other questions of the same +sort, but of course I couldn’t answer them either. She got angrier and +angrier. At last she said, “I shall send you home immediately. I cannot +have my household corrupted by your low tastes and deceitfulness.” + +That was the first nice thing she had said since I had been there. Of +course I didn’t altogether like it, because it seemed horrid to be sent +home in disgrace; besides, my coming back would be a worry for them, +when Humph was so ill. But I was so happy at the idea of seeing Mother +again that I couldn’t really think of anything else. I could hardly +help jumping, I was so happy. I said, “Please, shall I put on my coat +and hat at once?” + +I’m sure I said it most politely, but Mrs. Charlton replied “No” most +angrily. She said, “You may certainly rest assured that I do not wish +to keep you a moment longer than I am compelled, but I am afraid that +it would be impossible for me to arrange for your return to-night.” +Then she went away. + +After she had gone I thought a lot. First of all I packed my box, so as +to be ready the first thing in the morning. Then I suddenly thought, +Why couldn’t I arrange my journey home all alone, so as not to bother +Mrs. Charlton? Then I could start off directly? I rushed to the window +to see if it had stopped raining, and it had. + +When I began to plan it out it seemed to get easier and easier. It was +only three and a half miles to the station, and along the big road with +milestones and telegraph posts all the way. I knew, because, besides +driving up the day before, we’d gone along a bit of the road to the +village that morning. I’d got my return ticket to King’s Cross in my +purse, and once that I got there I’d just take a cab to Waterloo, and +then I could get home quite well. I know all about the trains from +there, you see, because I’ve been lots of times. I’d got plenty of +money, because there was the half-crown that Mother gave me before +I came away (I had sewed it into my clothes, of course, like people +do for travelling). Then I’d got a shilling and a farthing from my +pocket-money, and a sixpence with a hole in it; I knew that with all +that I could manage quite well. The only bother was about my box: I +couldn’t carry it, of course; it _was_ puzzling. I thought, though, I +might tell them at the station to call for it the next day, and let it +go by itself, like we sometimes do at home. I wrote the address on the +label in printing very neatly. + +I thought then that I’d start off, though I did feel a little +uncomfortable as to whether Mother would mind. She certainly doesn’t +like me to go out alone, but sometimes I have been sent on a message. +Of course it was getting rather late, but I thought if I ran I could +get to Corby, where the station is, before it got quite dark. Besides, +I knew Mother wouldn’t wish me to stop when Mrs. Charlton didn’t want +me; I heard her say once herself that visitors should never outstay +their welcome. The chiefest thing, though, was that I felt I just +couldn’t go a whole night more without seeing Mother. + +The worst part to think of was the going downstairs. My heart was +thumping dreadfully by the time I had got on my coat and hat. Oh, first +I pinned a little note on to the pincushion to say that I’d gone. It +was most useful that I’d read Lizzie’s book, because that is what Lady +Vera did before she flew with the Duke; I mightn’t ever have thought of +it by myself. I forgot to say that I’d tied up all the magazines in a +piece of brown paper and addressed them to “Miss Lizzie Hupandowngirl, +thankyou.” I had to put just that because I didn’t know her other name. + +It was perfectly awful--the going down I mean. The stairs seemed to +creak just as if they were doing it on purpose. Every minute I thought +some one would come. No one did, though. I expect Mrs. Charlton was +having her late dinner; anyway, there was nobody about. I crept across +the hall and opened the front door. The squeak it made was dreadful. I +stood there for a minute feeling quite sick and funny, but still no one +came. So I went out and shut the door behind me as softly as I could. +Then I ran and ran. + +Of course I couldn’t run all the way to Corby; I had to go slower +pretty soon. I kept running little bits now and then, but it seemed a +dreadfully long way. I was so afraid that some one Mrs. Charlton knew +would see me and perhaps send me back, but though the people I met +looked at me in rather a surprised way, they didn’t speak. I hid behind +the hedge, too, until they’d passed, when I heard them coming in time. + +It was getting quite dark for the last part of the way, and the lamps +were all lit at Corby. I couldn’t remember the turning to the station, +but I asked a little boy. They speak so funnily up there that I didn’t +understand what he said, but he pointed out the way all right. + +There was only one porter person at the station, and I was rather glad +of that. He seemed rather stupid, but when I’d asked him two or three +times, he said there was a train to King’s Cross at 8.52. That was very +lucky, because it was already a quarter past eight. The porter asked +me if I had got any luggage, but I said, “No, you are to fetch that +to-morrow.” I didn’t think until afterwards that I hadn’t told him the +address. + +When the train came it was very full, because there had been an +excursion or something. I found one compartment that wasn’t quite so +full, and I got in. A gentleman said, “Come on, there’s room for a +little ’un,” and another said, “The more the merrier.” They certainly +were very merry, for they were singing songs the whole time, and +fighting, but all in fun. I didn’t know grown-up people played like +that. + +There was a very fat lady sitting opposite me, and she began to talk. +She said suddenly in rather a strict way, “Where’s your Ma, my dear?” +and I said, “At home.” + +After a minute or two she started again. She said, “Ain’t your Ma well?” + +I said, “Yes, it’s Humph who is ill.” Then she asked me some more about +him, and I told her. + +I thought she’d stopped, and I quite jumped when she said very crossly, +“I suppose your Pa won’t leave ’is smoke. Puff an’ pull the whole day +long, that’s the way with all these men. Pigs, I calls ’em!” + +I didn’t exactly understand. I said, “Father doesn’t smoke the whole +day, but he is very fond of it. He likes to have his pipe if he can.” +I found out afterwards that she thought I meant that Father was in +a smoking compartment of the same train; I’m sure I don’t know why. +I’d got so sleepy, though, that I didn’t seem to be able to explain +anything or think properly at all. + +There was a funny little thin man sitting next to the fat lady, who +looked as if he’d got there by mistake. He was like a white rabbit +with a cold in its head. Suddenly the fat lady said, “Jeremiah, change +places this minute with the young lady,” and he jumped up in quite a +frightened way. Then she said to me much more nicely, “You come an’ +set ’ere, my dear, then you’ll be able to lean up aginst me an’ rest +yourself more comfortable like.” + +I was so sleepy that I could hardly stand. It was most peculiar. So the +fat lady pulled me up and put my head on her lap, just as if I were a +baby; I didn’t seem to mind at all. I was rather ashamed when I thought +about it afterwards, but Mother says it didn’t matter, and that the fat +lady was most kind. I think so, too, though her lap was rather steep +to be very comfortable. All the same, I must have gone off to sleep +almost directly. + +The next thing I remember was being lifted up. The fat lady and the +little white-rabbit gentleman were bustling about getting down their +things, and the train was stopping. “No, this ain’t King’s Cross, my +dear,” she said, “but we ain’t far off, so you jist pop on your ’at. +We gets out ’ere, but I suppose your Pa will come for you at the next +station. I’d like to give my fine gentleman a piece of my mind,” she +went on to the little rabbit man, “leaving that pore child in ’ere an’ +never so much as taking the trouble to clap ’is eyes upon ’er the ’ole +blessed way.” + +I was so astonished altogether, I could hardly speak. You see, for the +first minute or two I couldn’t remember where I was. So I just said, +“Thank you very much, thank you,” a good many times over. The fat lady +bent down and kissed me, and said, “There’s a good little girl.” And, +do you know, when her face was close, it looked for a minute like +Mother’s. It was most astonishing, because she was so red and funny. + +I got quite awake getting my hat down from the rack, and almost +directly after we arrived at King’s Cross. There was a great rush and +bustle, and only one or two cabs, so it’s lucky the other excursion +people didn’t all want them; every one seemed to be walking. I thought +I’d better make haste, though, so I said to one cabman, “Are you +engaged?” and when he said “No,” I jumped in quickly. + +Well, I expected that he’d start at once, but he didn’t. I waited a +minute or two, then I poked open the little hole, which is rather +difficult to do because it’s so high. I said, “Will you tell your horse +to go, please?” + +He looked most astonished. He said, “You ain’t all alone?” I said +“Yes.” Then he was very cross. He said “Come, now, get out of this.” I +remembered then that I hadn’t told him where to go to, and I thought +that might be making him so disagreeable. I said, “I beg your pardon +for not telling you that I want to go to Waterloo Station, and I want +to start at once, please.” + +The man seemed to get more surprised still. He said (I can’t help it, +it’s sounding dreadful, but it’s what he really did say)--he said, +“Well, I’m blessed!” Then he called out to a porter, but the porter was +too busy to hear him. + +I didn’t know what to do because he didn’t seem to be even beginning to +start. Then I remembered that when we were at Cousin Sophy’s the cabman +wouldn’t drive us back from the pantomime because he said Chiswick was +too far. So I poked open the little hole again, and I said, “You are +on the rank plying for hire, and unless you start immediately I shall +summons you.” That was what Cousin Sophy said; Humph and I have often +acted it since, because the cabman was so angry and there was such an +exciting fuss. + +This cabman wasn’t angry, though; he just seemed to get more and more +astonished. He began to laugh, and he said again, “Well, I’m blessed!” +Then he said, “You ain’t running away, are you, Missy?” + +I said “No.” I think that was true, because it isn’t exactly running +away when you have been told that you are to go the next day in any +case. I said, “I am just travelling home to my Mother.” + +That seemed to decide him more. He was going to start, when he thought +of something else to worry over. He called down, “But ’ow about my +fare, Missy?” + +I had been rather troubled about that myself. I’d got the half-crown +for him, of course, and the ticket home from Waterloo is only +one-and-five-pence-halfpenny, so he could have another halfpenny out +of the sixpence with the hole in it, as well as my bright farthing. +But I wasn’t sure if even all that was enough. Cabs are so dreadfully +expensive, Mother always says; and Father says one oughtn’t to be +stingy. So I just explained it to the cabman. I said, “I’ve got +half-a-crown for you, and a halfpenny out of the sixpence with a hole +in it, and a bright farthing; and if you’ll drive me as far as you can +for that without me being stingy, I’ll walk the rest.” I knew there +couldn’t be very much further to go, anyway. + +The cabman, though, was most nice. He said, “The ’alf-crown will do +nicely for me, Missy. You can keep the rest.” Then we really did drive +off. + +I did like it in the cab, and the streets were all bright with the +lights. A clock we passed said it was ten minutes to twelve; wasn’t +that an astonishing time? When we got to Waterloo I jumped out and gave +the cabman his money. He said, “Shall you find the lady all right?” I +said “Yes.” I think he would have said more, only just at that minute +some one waved to him from the opposite side of the road. + +There weren’t very many people in the station, but they all stared very +rudely, and some looked as if they were going to speak. So I hurried +on as fast as I could to the place where you get the tickets. I knew +there was a train in the middle of the night, you see, because Father +comes down by it sometimes after parties. The little window for buying +the tickets was open. (I can reach up to it quite easily on tiptoe; +Humphrey can’t, he’d have to take a footstool if he travelled alone.) I +said, “One half-third single to Farncombe.” + +Well, the gentleman there looked as surprised as the cabman. He said +“What?” quite crossly. I thought it was because I hadn’t said “please,” +but he wasn’t a bit nicer when I did. Then some other people came +near, and that seemed to make the gentleman in the little hole less +surprised. He punched my ticket and gave it to me, and he said, “I +suppose your Mother has a season ticket?” I said, “No, Father has.” I +didn’t know why he asked, but I think now he thought that I belonged to +the people who were standing there. It was very silly of him, for the +lady wasn’t the least bit like Mother; she looked horrid. + +I know the platform from which our trains mostly start, besides a good +many other people were going along as well. I heard one lady say, “Who +does that little girl belong to?” And the gentleman said, “Oh, to that +lot, I think.” It made me very cross that everybody should mistake the +horrid lady for Mother, but I didn’t like to explain. Somebody else, +too, asked me if I were lost, but I said, very hard, “No.” + +It was so uncomfortable, people talking to me like this, that I got +into the first empty carriage that I saw. I got under the seat, too, so +that they’d be less likely to bother me with questions. It isn’t nice +when every one is so astonished and cross at you. + +I liked it under the seat, but I was so afraid that it was naughty. I +did hope that Mother wouldn’t mind. You see, she always says that I +am so careless about my clothes, and that it is unkind to Violet, who +has to wear them when I have grown out of them. It does seem hard on +Violet, certainly, because she never spoils anything herself. I think +she’d look neat on a desert island. She really ought to have been born +an eldest. It made it worse, too, because I was wearing my titums. I +suppose every one knows that a titums is your middle-best dress; the +others are hitums and scrub. + +Of course, I didn’t stop under the seat all the time, or else I might +have passed the station. I thought afterwards that it was lucky no +one got into the carriage, because grown-up people are so easily +astonished, and they might have thought it funny when I came crawling +out. We only stopped twice before we got to Farncombe, which made it +easier, and I had lots of time to plan what I’d do when we got there. +First of all, though, I tried if both doors of the compartment were +unlocked, because that was part of the plan. They were. I began to feel +like the Young Pretender after Culloden. + +Well, it all went beautifully. As the train slowed down to go into +Farncombe Station I jumped out of the door on the other side to our +platform. Then I ran across the line and crouched down by the hedge +until the train had gone off again and everything was quiet. I did +this because the station-master and all the people at Farncombe know +us, and I thought there’d be more fuss. Besides, the station-master is +a most disagreeable man. + +I knew there was a hole in the hedge just there, because Humph and +I discovered it one day when Fräulein took us to meet Mother; she’d +missed her train, and so we had to wait a long time. It wasn’t true, +though, that Humph and I first made that hole, like the station-master +said; it was there all the time, though it may have got a teeny bit +larger, but then holes are things that grow fast, like in sheets, but +’specially with woollen gloves. Anyway it was a good thing now that it +had got big, because I was able to find it quite easily and to scramble +through into the field. Nobody saw me, so after waiting a few minutes +more I walked across and got over the stile into the road. + +I had quite forgotten that it would be dark for this walk, when I +planned to come home at Mrs. Charlton’s. If I had remembered, I might +not have started, because of thinking that Mother would not like it, +but I should never have guessed that it would be so horrid in itself. +It wasn’t pitch black either, like it sometimes is. I’m not sure it +wasn’t worse, because it was light enough to see all sorts of dreadful +black things all round, and once you get quite outside Farncombe there +aren’t any more lights or houses at all. It was so quiet, too, there +wasn’t a sound. All at once I began to think of mad dogs and St. Denis. +I thought, suppose there was some one coming after me, holding his head +in his hands and looking down at it with his bleeding neck, like in the +picture. I wanted to run dreadfully, but I wouldn’t let myself, because +if you once start, something seems to come after you that will clutch +you with long, clawy fingers if you stop. I thought of Mother instead, +as hard as ever I could, and I’d got the penwiper on still, so I held +that through my clothes. That made it rather better. + +Suddenly I saw something in the road moving. I could hardly breathe. +It was awful. But then it came nearer, and I saw it was just an +ordinary man. He had on his head quite all right. He said “Hullo!” and +I said “Good-evening.” + +I didn’t think he was a very nice man, though; for he came up quite +close in rather a rude way. He caught hold of me and said, “That’s a +nice brooch you’ve got on,” and I said, “Yes; Father gave it to me last +birthday. It’s real gold.” + +The man didn’t answer because just then we heard wheels coming. He +listened for a minute and then he dashed away into the bushes. The +carriage was really on the upper road, so he needn’t have minded. I +didn’t tell that to him, because I didn’t like him much. It was kind of +him, though, to admire my brooch. He was only a common sort of man, so +I dare say he’d never been taught manners and things. + +I felt much better and more comfortable after meeting the man. I got +almost directly to where our short cut through the copse begins, and +that made it seem more like home. I thought that I could let myself +begin to run there, because it’s such a little way, but all the same I +did feel frightened before I got to the house. I rushed up to the front +door and tugged at the handle. It was locked! + +Well, of course, I might have known that it would be, but at the time +it seemed the worst thing of all. I began screaming out “Mother, +Mother!” and I was all shaking and crying, I don’t know why. Almost +before you’d have thought there was time, the door was pulled back and +Mother had hold of me. + +After that it was all right, of course, and almost too nice to +tell. Mother had come running down just as she was, though she said +afterwards that she hadn’t really believed that it could be me, and had +thought that she was dreaming it all. She carried me up and undressed +me and put me into her own bed. I was still rather silly, for I didn’t +seem to be able to say anything, only a line I’d read kept going on +inside my head about “Port after stormy seas.” + +Presently, though, Mother began to ask me questions. She kept asking me +if I had really come all the way alone, as if she could hardly believe +it. Each time I said “Yes” she cuddled me again. Then she asked me if +Mrs. Charlton knew; so I ’splained about it. Mother didn’t say anything +hardly then, but she wrote a telegram for Mrs. Charlton to say that +I’d arrived safely, and she put it for the gardener to take to the +post-office the first thing in the morning. Mother got me some milk, +and some cake, which I ate while she went in for a minute to see Humph. +I forgot to say that of course I’d asked about him at the beginning, +and Mother said that he had got much better the last day. Fräulein was +with him, so Mother didn’t have to stay. She came back to me, and I was +so happy it seemed to make me sleepy all at once. It was almost too +lovely to feel that Mother was quite close to me. + +The next day it wasn’t so nice, though. Mother talked to me a long +time, and she said a thing that made me feel dreadfully bad; she said +I’d been selfish; I’d thought of my own feelings but not of other +people’s. She said that fortunately Mrs. Charlton had not discovered my +absence until the next morning, but if she had done so she would have +been extremely worried, and, at her age, it might have made her quite +ill. Also she’d have telegraphed home, and Mother says had she known +that I was wandering about the country by myself all night, she could +hardly have borne it, especially when Humphrey was so ill and Father +away. I minded that part much more than about Mrs. Charlton. Mother +looked so unhappy, it was dreadful. I promised and promised I’d never +do such a thing again. + +That wasn’t all the disagreeables either. The next day a letter came +from Cousin Sophy in London, asking me and the little ones to stay with +her. She’d been abroad before, and so had only just heard of Humph’s +having measles. Well, Mother wrote to Jane, who was away in lodgings +with the little ones, to tell her to take them to Cousin Sophy’s at the +end of the week, because Mother knew that they’d like it better. But +with regard to me, Mother said she hardly liked to trust me away from +home again. + +I minded the not being trusted part, but I didn’t mind the not going +so much when Mother told me, because it seemed so nice to stop at home +with her. But it wasn’t really; it was a great deal horrider than I +could have ’magined. I hardly saw Mother at all because she was looking +after Humphrey all the time, and I wasn’t allowed to go in to him. +As for Fräulein, she was most strict and disagreeable. And then when +Violet wrote she said that Cousin Sophy had taken them to the Zoo and +the Chamber of Horrors, and lots of other lovely places. I did feel +cross. + +They are back now, though, and Humph is well, and everything is nice. +I’ve quite settled not to go visiting strangers alone again--no, not as +long as I live. The others are so interested in my adventures, though, +that it almost makes one forget how horrid they really were. Perhaps +the lovely things you read in books are really like that, and even +being a cowboy mayn’t be always nice. And I do think a journey like +mine would be too dreadful for any one if Mother weren’t waiting for +them at the end of it. + + +UNWIN BROTHERS, LIMITED, PRINTERS, WOKING AND LONDON. + + + + +SOME DAINTY GIFT BOOKS. + + +TUFFY AND THE MERBOO + +BY PHYLLIS M. GOTCH, + +Author of “The Romance of a Boo-Bird Chic.” + +Seventeen Full-page Coloured Pictures. + + _Large 4to_, =6s.= + + +THE CINEMATOGRAPH TRAIN + +BY G. E. FARROW, + +Author of the “Wallypug of Why.” + +Thirty Drawings by ALAN WRIGHT. + + _Large Crown 8vo_, =5s.= + + +THE GIANT CRAB + +BY W. H. D. ROUSE. + +Profusely Illustrated by CHARLES ROBINSON. + + _Square Crown 8vo_, =3s. 6d.= + + + R. BRIMLEY JOHNSON, + 4, ADAM STREET, STRAND, LONDON; + and 3, FREDERICK STREET, EDINBURGH. + + + + +FROM THE AUTUMN LIST. + + +LESSONS + +BY EVELYN SHARP, + +Author of “Wynips,” etc., etc. + +Sketches of Child Life and Character. + + _Crown 8vo_, =2s. 6d.= _net_. + + +ENGLAND: A NATION + +BEING + +The Papers of the Patriots’ Club + + EDITED BY + LUCIAN OLDERSHAW. + + _Crown 8vo_, =3s. 6d.= _net_. + + +Contributors: + + G. K. CHESTERTON, Rev. CONRAD NOEL, + H. W. NEVINSON, REGINALD BRAY, + J. L. HAMMOND, C. F. G. MASTERMAN, + and R. C. K. ENSOR. + + +YOUNG ENGLAND + +BEING + +Vivian Grey, Coningsby, Sybil, Tancred + +BY BENJAMIN DISRAELI. + + 4 Vols. _Large Crown 8vo, each_ =5s.= _net_. + +Edited by B. LANGDON DAVIES. + +Illustrated by BYAM SHAW. + + +J. T. NETTLESHIP + +In Memoriam + +EDITED BY W. ROTHENSTEIN. + +Twenty-four beautiful reproductions of his early symbolic and late +animal work. + +Appreciations by W. B. YEATS, Professor ANDREW BRADLEY, A. E. JOHN, and +H. MCILVAINE. + + +R. BRIMLEY JOHNSON. + + + + +TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES: + + + Italicized text is surrounded by underscores: _italics_. + + Emboldened text is surrounded by equals signs: =bold=. + + Perceived typographical errors have been corrected. + + Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized. + + Archaic or variant spelling has been retained. + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77065 *** diff --git a/77065-h/77065-h.htm b/77065-h/77065-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..12a77d0 --- /dev/null +++ b/77065-h/77065-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,4363 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html lang="en"> +<head> + <meta charset="UTF-8"> + <title> + The barbarous babes | Project Gutenberg + </title> + <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover"> + <style> + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + + h1,h2{ + text-align: center; + clear: both; +} + +p { + margin-top: .51em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .49em; +} + +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: 33.5%; + margin-right: 33.5%; + clear: both; +} + +hr.tb {width: 45%; margin-left: 27.5%; margin-right: 27.5%;} +hr.tiny {width: 10%; margin-left: 45%; margin-right: 45%;} +hr.chap {width: 65%; margin-left: 17.5%; margin-right: 17.5%;} +@media print { hr.chap {display: none; visibility: hidden;} } + +div.chapter {page-break-before: always;} +h2.nobreak {page-break-before: avoid;} + +.gap {padding-left: 5em;} + +table { + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; +} + +td {padding-left: 0.5em;} +.tdr {text-align: right;} +.tdc {text-align: center;} + +.pagenum { + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + font-style: normal; + font-weight: normal; + font-variant: normal; + text-indent: 0; +} + +.indent4 {padding-left: 4em;} + +.blockquot { + margin-left: 25%; + margin-right: 25%; +} + +.x-ebookmaker .blockquot { + margin-left: 7.5%; + margin-right: 7.5%; +} + +.center {text-align: center;} + +.right {text-align: right;} + +.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + +.allsmcap {font-variant: small-caps; text-transform: lowercase;} + +.ph1 {text-align: center; font-size: large; font-weight: bold;} +.ph3 {text-align: center; font-size: x-large; font-weight: bold;} + +div.titlepage {text-align: center; page-break-before: always; page-break-after: always;} +div.titlepage p {text-align: center; font-weight: bold; line-height: 1.5; margin-top: 2em;} + +.xxlarge {font-size: 175%;} +.large {font-size: 125%;} + +.x-ebookmaker .hide {display: none; visibility: hidden;} + +.figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; + page-break-inside: avoid; + max-width: 100%; +} + +.poetry-container {text-align: center;} +.poetry {display: inline-block; text-align: left;} +.poetry .verse {text-indent: -2.5em; padding-left: 3em;} +.poetry .indent {text-indent: 1.5em;} +.poetry .first {text-indent: -3em; padding-left: 3em;} + +@media print { .poetry {display: block;} } +.x-ebookmaker .poetry-container {display: flex; justify-content: center;} + +p.drop-cap { + text-indent: -0.35em; +} + +p.drop-cap:first-letter +{ + float: left; + margin: 0em 0.15em 0em 0em; + font-size: 250%; + line-height:0.85em; + text-indent: 0em; +} +.x-ebookmaker p.drop-cap{ + text-indent: 0em; +} +.x-ebookmaker p.drop-cap:first-letter +{ + float: none; + margin: 0; + font-size: 100%; +} + +.antiqua { + font-family: Blackletter, Fraktur, Textur, "Old English Text MT", "Olde English Mt", "Olde English", + "Old English", "Engravers Old English BT", "Collins Old English", "New Old English", Gothic, serif, sans-serif;} + +.transnote {background-color: #E6E6FA; + color: black; + font-size:smaller; + margin-left: 17.5%; + margin-right: 17.5%; + padding: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; + font-family:sans-serif, serif; } + + </style> +</head> +<body> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77065 ***</div> + +<div class="figcenter hide"><img src="images/coversmall.jpg" width="450" alt=""></div> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h1>THE BARBAROUS BABES</h1> +</div> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_title.jpg" alt="title page"></div> +</div> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + + + +<div class="titlepage"> +<p><span class="xxlarge">THE BARBAROUS BABES</span></p> + +<p><span class="large">BEING THE MEMOIRS OF MOLLY</span></p> + +<p>BY<br> +<span class="large">EDITH AYRTON</span><br> +(MRS. ISRAEL ZANGWILL)</p> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_titlelogo.jpg" alt="publisher's logo"></div> + +<p>LONDON AND EDINBURGH<br> +<span class="large">R. BRIMLEY JOHNSON</span><br> +MCMIV</p> +</div> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p class="center"><span class="antiqua">To</span><br> + <br> + THE MEMORY<br> + <br> + OF<br> + <br> +<span class="large">MY MOTHER</span></p> +</div> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak">CONTENTS</h2> + + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_007.jpg" alt=""></div> +</div> + +<table> +<tr><td class="tdr" colspan="3"><span class="allsmcap">PAGE</span></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr">I.</td><td> THE MARTYRDOM OF HUMPHREY</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_9">9</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr">II.</td><td> SAMSON AND DELILAH</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_24">24</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr">III.</td><td> VIOLET’S VISIT</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_34">34</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr">IV.</td><td> THE WHIPPING OF TEDDY</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_55">55</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr">V.</td><td> THE RAGE OF THE HEATHEN</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_76">76</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr">VI.</td><td> A FIRST NIGHT</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_96">96</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr">VII.</td><td> MOTHER</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_110">110</a></td></tr> +</table> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_9">[9]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">I<br> +<small>THE MARTYRDOM OF HUMPHREY</small></h2> +<p class="center">(Reprinted from <i>Little Folks</i> by kind permission)</p> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap">IT all started because Humphrey and +me generally play together, and +we generally play at torturing games. +Sometimes we let the little ones, Violet +and Ted, come in too, but they spoil +things rather, because Teddy is so tiny +and Violet doesn’t properly enjoy even +the loveliest tortures. We have promised +Mother, though, that we will try not to +be selfish, so we pretend we don’t mind +their playing with us—much.</p> + +<p>I generally make up the tortures +because I’m the eldest. My name is +Molly, and I’m the only one that has +to use two figures for their age; I’m +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_10">[10]</span>ten. Even Humphrey is a good lot +younger than me; he’s only nine, and +people don’t think he’s as old as +that, because he’s very backward. It +isn’t so much that he can’t think of +clever things, but he had an illness +when he was a baby and that makes +lessons harder for him than for other +people, ’specially long division. He +simply can’t do that; if they try and +make him, he sits and cries, and he +has the most peculiar way of crying of +any one I ever saw. He doesn’t make +any noise nor wrinkle up his face, but +the tears come dripping down slowly +with a plop. Sometimes he catches +them in his mouth, but if he doesn’t, +he always licks them up afterwards, +because he says they are good for the +digestion. He is going to be a doctor, +so that makes him have ideas like that. +Once he invented a most beautiful red +ink, only it made holes right through +his copy-book, and you couldn’t use the +same pen twice, so he had to turn it +into a medicine instead.</p> + +<p>Though Humphrey can write, he +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_11">[11]</span>can’t read yet, and that’s another peculiar +thing, because with most people +it’s the other way. That’s partly why +it’s always me that invents the games. +I read a nice tortury book, and then +tell him about it, and we pretend it +through. We did enjoy <i>The Tower of +London</i>, but the <i>Pirates of Algiers</i> was +almost better.</p> + +<p>One day we were having a lovely +time over this; Humphrey had worked +rusty screws into my chest, and had +clamped an iron band with spikes round +my head, and then he was lashing me +with a waxed thong, when all of a +sudden he stopped.</p> + +<p>“It isn’t any fun,” he said, “because +by now you must be dead.”</p> + +<p>I told him I wasn’t, and that in the +book they lashed the slaves for hours, +and he must go on.</p> + +<p>He said, “Well, if I’m the torturer, +I ought to be allowed to choose the +tortures, and I’m a very enervating +torturer.” I don’t know exactly what +he meant, because he’s fond of using +long words that make grown-up people +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_12">[12]</span>laugh, and then getting sulky. But I +<i>was</i> surprised when he went on solemnly, +“Slave, go and put your head in the +meal-barrel.”</p> + +<p>Of course he meant that I was really +to do it, because if one is able to do a +thing there’s no use in just pretending +it; but a nice rage Fräulein would +have been in. She’s our governess and +I expect she’d have given me extra +practising for a week. If there’s one +thing I loathe it’s the piano, especially +now that Fräulein comes and sits beside +me. She used to be in the other room, +which is warmer, and just shout out +every now and then, “Zu schnell, ein, +zwei, drei, vier,” so I could read the +book on my lap quite comfortably. +The music sounded just the same, and +you could shut up your knees quickly +if you heard any one coming, but +somehow Fräulein discovered it. Well, +thinking of the extra practising I should +have to do, I said to Humphrey rather +crossly, “You’re really too stupid to +play with.” Then I walked to the +other end of the room.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_13">[13]</span>I forget if I said that all this happened +one Sunday when Mother and +Father had gone up to town for a lunch +party. (Mother hates being away from +us like that, especially on a Sunday, +but they had to go.) Fräulein had +been getting the little ones ready for +church, but now they came down and +we started almost directly. It was such +a lovely day that we took the short cut +through the woods; I found some wild +roses, quite pink ones, and the paths +were all mossy and quiet. I stopped +wanting to be cross; woods always do +make one feel gooder somehow. It is +all so silent and lovely.</p> + +<p>In church it was very nice too. We +had a most splendid sounding psalm, +and “Onward Christian Soldiers,” which +is my favourite hymn, and we didn’t +stay for the sermon. By the time we +got out I was perfectly aching with +goodness; I wanted to go away at once +and bind up wounded soldiers and things +like that.</p> + +<p>I was going along planning it all, and +how nobly I’d catch fever from a poor +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_14">[14]</span>drummer-boy and lie beautiful in death +with wreaths all around me, when suddenly +I remembered what Mother once +said about people thinking they’d do +great deeds and passing by the duties +that are on their path. So, as Humphrey +was dawdling behind, because he +was cross, I waited for him and asked +him if I should tell him some story. +This doesn’t sound much but really it +was awfully hard, because you don’t +know how horrid Humphrey looks +when he is sulky. Besides, the little +ones are always bothering me to tell +them stories, so I get rather sick of it, +and Mother said that they must give +me a holiday and not even ask me to on +Sundays.</p> + +<p>Well, Humphrey was certainly very +nice; he caught hold of my hand. +“Molly,” he said very slowly, and +wagging his head like he always does; +“Molly, it would be a gweat welief +onto my mind to know if Lady +Flowence Gwendoline escaped fwom +the wobber’s cave, but I’m going to +wait till to-mowow.” It’s horrid for +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_15">[15]</span>him not being able to say his “r’s” +properly, when he’s nearly nine and a +quarter, and Ted who is only five can +talk as if he were grown up. Humph +minds so much though, that we pretend +not to notice it. Any way I don’t +believe it’s a bit of good his putting +rubber bands round his tongue, to curl +it to the right shape, like we found him +in bed one night. He’s been happier, +though, since Mother told him we all +had our bundles of affliction to carry, +and that not being able to say his +“r’s” was in his bundle. And if it +were heavy, Mother said, he mustn’t +grumble, but just step out more bravely. +I’m sure, though, it isn’t a bit heavier +than having hair that will get untidy, +and to stand still and not get impatient +while it’s being brushed, is a very +difficult sort of stepping out.</p> + +<p>All this time Humphrey had been +squeezing my hand harder and harder, +and now he said, “I’ve thought of a +lovely new torture that I know you’ll +like. I thought of it all myself in +church. It’s cutting off your head and +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_16">[16]</span>tying it onto a wampant horse and then +dancing.”</p> + +<p>I didn’t know what to say, because of +course he was thinking of Salome, whom +we’d had the second lesson about, and +Mother doesn’t like us acting things out +of the Bible, but just then we saw a +bush of burs. We always like to have +burs, because they’re so convenient to +put in one another’s hair and down +people’s backs and nice tortury things +of that sort; these, though, grew right +in the middle of a bed of nettles. +“Disagweable things,” said Humphrey.</p> + +<p>But when I saw the nettles I remembered +more than ever about the duties on +one’s path, and how I’d promised Mother +to try and be unselfish, and I thought +perhaps this would make up for some +of the times I hadn’t been. Besides, +I thought how astonished Humphrey +would be at my bravery. So I just pretended +that I was the Black Prince scaling +the walls of Calais, and I dashed into the +stinging-nettles. I forgot, though, that +the Prince had got his armour on, and +we’d gone into summer stockings that +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_17">[17]</span>day, at least the other three wear socks, +but, of course, I’m too old. But by +thinking I was Joan of Arc as well, I +got the burs, and when I came out +Humphrey was so astonished, he +couldn’t say anything at all, particularly +when I gave them all to him. I +didn’t keep a single one.</p> + +<p>My legs were hurting dreadfully, so +I pulled down my stockings to look, +and there were a lot of great white +lumps; that was rather nice, because +sometimes things are horrid, like +earache, with nothing to show for it +and all waste. So I sent Humphrey +for some dock leaves, but he couldn’t +find any, though when you aren’t +wanting them, you are always seeing +them. He said that if you rubbed on +the milk of dandelions with a dead +mole’s paw, it would do just as well, but +then we hadn’t got a mole, except the +one we are trying to tame on the tennis +lawn, and he isn’t dead.</p> + +<p>Poor Humphrey looked quite unhappy +when I told him this. He was +quiet for a long time, and then he said, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_18">[18]</span>“I’ll go on lashing you with waxed +thongs if you like.” I did think that +nice of him. Generally if we quarrel, +you might cut him up into little bits +before he’d say he was wrong.</p> + +<p>So I thanked him but I said it didn’t +matter, because we must hurry home. +On Sundays we have tart for dinner, +and if Mother’s at home there is +generally cream, and even if Fräulein +is stingy about that, I didn’t want to +miss the tart, particularly as I knew that +it was raspberry. I forgot to explain +that if we are late for meals, we don’t +have any pudding, at least at breakfast +or tea it’s jam, unless there is a very +good reason why we couldn’t help it. +I dare say if I’d shown Fräulein my +lumps on my legs she’d have excused +me, but, of course, I wasn’t going to +do that; I should have liked the little +ones to have seen them though before +they went down. They were very large +lumps.</p> + +<p>It was when we were going along that +I had the Great Idea. I was thinking +about the tortures, because I knew +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_19">[19]</span>Humphrey would want to do Salome, +unless I could tell him of something +else. “We’ll be Christian martyrs,” +I said suddenly. “You shall be burnt.”</p> + +<p>Humphrey stood still in the middle +of the road with his mouth open, like +he does when he’s pleased. “When?” +he asked at last.</p> + +<p>“After dinner,” I said. “Being +Sunday makes it all the better. You +shall be Latimer-Ridley-and-Hooper +and tied to a stake and burnt.”</p> + +<p>It really is a convenient thing that +Fräulein likes a nap on Sunday; we got +rid of the little ones too because it was +such a very great secret that we thought +Mother wouldn’t mind. Then Humphrey +and I crept silently up to the +orchard; we are allowed there always, +but it seemed to make it nicer to creep. +Humphrey brought his dark lantern, +but you can’t light it because it drops to +pieces, and I believe he was thinking of +Guy Fawkes, but he said I couldn’t be +sure that Latimer-Ridley-and-Hooper +didn’t have a lantern too.</p> + +<p>Our orchard is a very nice place; +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_20">[20]</span>generally the washing is hung there, +but, of course, there isn’t any out on +Sundays. So we collected a lot of +twigs and things and piled them round +a clothes-prop, and I stuck in all the +burs to prick the martyr’s feet. Then +I poured paraffin over it all. I forgot +to say that I had brought the can up out +of the scullery. When it was all ready +I tied Humphrey to the post with +some of the clothes-line.</p> + +<p>He looked lovely, he really did, just +like Latimer-Ridley-and-Hooper. I +took off the sailor hat and told him to +shut his eyes and say his prayers, while I +hit him with things—not hard, of course, +that would be horribly mean when he +was all tied up, but just pretence. And +I kept asking him if he would abjure +his faith, because I was Bloody Mary, +but he wouldn’t, and then I hit him +again. Only in the middle he sneezed +and I had to get out his pocket-handkerchief, +which spoilt it rather. I +don’t know what Latimer-Ridley-and-Hooper +did if he wanted to blow his +nose.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_21">[21]</span>Well, after some time Humphrey +said that he was uncomfortable and must +be burnt quick. So I asked him once +more if he’d abjure, and then I said in +awful tones, “Minion, fire the faggots.”</p> + +<p>Of course, I had to be the minion +myself, because Humphrey’s hands were +tied. We’d brought up a box of +matches and I struck one; and now +comes the dreadful part. I don’t know +how it happened, for I threw the match +down quite a long way off; it must have +been the paraffin or something, for +suddenly the flame ran along the grass +and it all began really to blaze.</p> + +<p>For the first second we were both so +frightened, we didn’t do anything; then +Humphrey screamed. I rushed forward +and tried to pull him out, but I couldn’t, +and I tried to push away the twigs and +things, but they only seemed to burn +more than ever. All this time I was +screaming too in the most curious way +and shaking all over though it was so +hot. I was just going to run and fetch +Mother, because I’d forgotten she was +out to lunch, when suddenly the clothes-prop +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_22">[22]</span>came out of the ground, and +Humphrey stumbled forward. When +he’d got out of the fire he fell down on +his face and wouldn’t speak, so I was +more frightened than ever.</p> + +<p>They carried Humphrey down to the +house, for, of course, I went and fetched +Fräulein. He wasn’t crying, he was +quite still, which seemed worse. I +wanted to go for the doctor, but Fräulein +told me I’d done quite enough harm and +I’d better keep out of the way. So I +went up to the box-room and cried. +My only comfort was that my hands +were hurting a lot, because they were +burnt too, though I hadn’t felt it +before. Still I couldn’t pretend to be +Casabianca like Humphrey might have, +I could only think I was a murderer +and going to be hanged, and there +wasn’t much comfort even in that.</p> + +<p>I don’t know how long I stopped +there, but I didn’t have any tea nor +supper either, and I cried so that my +face felt quite stiff. At last, as it was +getting dark, Mother came in. She +didn’t see me, but she said my name +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_23">[23]</span>softly; that made me feel dreadful. So +I just sobbed out, “Is he dead like +Latimer-Ridley-and-Hooper?”</p> + +<p>But suddenly Mother took me up in +her arms. “Oh, no, no, my poor little +girl,” she said. “He isn’t very badly +burnt, he only fainted.” Then she +carried me downstairs, just as if I were +one of the little ones, and when she saw +my hands she quite cried out. She put +oil and cotton-wool on to them, and it +was lovely, and she brought me some +soup and helped me to undress. I felt +much happier.</p> + +<p>First of all, though, I went in to see +Humphrey. He was in bed, and he +didn’t look very different. Directly he +saw me, he called out, “Do you know +that you’ve got seven skins? The doctor +told me so; and I’m playing that I’m a +wounded fireman in the hospital, but it’s +no fun without you.”</p> + +<p>I don’t think Latimer-Ridley-and-Hooper +could have said anything +nicer.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_24">[24]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">II<br> +<small>SAMSON AND DELILAH</small></h2> +<p class="center">(Reprinted from <i>Little Folks</i> by kind permission)</p> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap">BOYS with long hair are always +silly, and Lionel was one of the +silliest. I don’t know whether it was +having the curls that had done it, or if +he had been born stupid, but any way +he used to make a most awful fuss if he +knocked himself or cut his finger, and +he liked to have his hands clean, and +cried if you didn’t always play just what +he wanted. Another peculiar thing +about him was that he seemed to enjoy +it, if visitors noticed him or admired his +hair, instead of escaping as any of us +would have done. Fortunately they +don’t pay much attention to us, because +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_25">[25]</span>our hair is short. At least mine and +Humphrey’s is, and though Violet’s +has been allowed to grow, it is quite +straight, and an ugly sort of lighty +brown in colour. As for Teddy, he +is only four, so his hair doesn’t +count.</p> + +<p>Though I’ve spoken of Lionel here +by his proper name, we didn’t call him +that. It was much too long, and so we +christened him “Macassar Oil,” because +I discovered that the first part of Lionel +written backwards spells oil, and Cousin +Florence does put stuff on his hair. She +didn’t seem a bit pleased though, when +I explained it to her, though I don’t +believe she’d have ever thought of it +for herself. Cousin Florence is Lionel’s +mother, and they’ve always lived in +India, so we children had never seen +them until they came to stay with us.</p> + +<p>It was funny, but though we’d never +wanted people to do anything before +but leave us alone, we found that we +didn’t a bit like it always being Lionel +and his curls that every one made such a +fuss over. I don’t mean, of course, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_26">[26]</span>that Mother was any different, but she +was so busy that she couldn’t attend to +us much, for there was a dinner party +and lots of other things to amuse Cousin +Florence, and cook’s temper is always +awful. Why, some evenings she couldn’t +even come to say good-night to us +and tuck us up, (I mean Mother, not +cook), and that makes everything seem +horrid.</p> + +<p>It wasn’t only Lionel that was such a +trial, but Cousin Florence was always +there too. She said she liked to watch +us play, as if we could do anything with +a grown-up person looking on, and just +at that time we were in the middle of a +most exciting game, where Humphrey +was my grandfather and very strict and +nearly starved and beat me to death. +One day we couldn’t stand it any longer, +so Humph and I ran off and left Cousin +Florence and Lionel. We hid all the +afternoon in the cave we’ve discovered, +where you have to sit quite doubled up +because it’s so small and secret, and it +was lovely. But Mother made us promise +not to do it again. She said +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_27">[27]</span>Bayard wouldn’t have done it nor any +one like that, because they considered +the laws of hospitality to be most sacred, +and that they showed politeness to a +visitor even if he’d insulted them. So +after that we always played with Lionel, +but underneath Humph and I had +another game all the time, and that +helped us. We pretended that we were +Knights of the Round Table, and that +Lionel was the Unwelcome Guest, who +had to be courteously entreated; we said +“please” and “thank you” to him in +almost every sentence. Really that was +the only game at which Lionel was +much good, for he didn’t seem to understand +pretending at all, so he always had +to act a passing gentleman or some silly +thing of that sort. He couldn’t even +be a regiment of soldiers properly.</p> + +<p>Any one would think that things +were bad enough like this, but it was +much worse when Macassar Oil’s grandmother +came to stay too. She wasn’t +any relation of ours really, but she told us +to call her Aunt Arabella, and so we did, +although we didn’t want to. I didn’t +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_28">[28]</span>like her from the first, though I never +guessed that she’d take to watching us +as well as Cousin Florence. But the +most insulting part was that we found +out they did it because they didn’t +like to leave Lionel alone with us. +They said that we were so rough and +would hurt him or something, just +because Humphrey once knocked him +down, and as Lionel is eleven months +older, I’m sure he ought to have been +ashamed not to be able to take care of +himself. Besides that was before Mother +told us about Bayard. Another horrid +thing that Cousin Florence and Aunt +Arabella did, was always to make out +that Lionel had won in races, and if +Fräulein, our governess, was there, she +was just as bad, and they didn’t seem to +think it dreadful when Lionel cheated or +anything, but only said to one another, +in French, how sweet he looked with +his golden hair and things like that.</p> + +<p>Well, we tried to bear it and be good—we +really did. It was most unlucky +that just the day when I was feeling +particularly cross with Lionel, because +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_29">[29]</span>he’d gone in to lunch with the grown-ups, +and Humph and I were too untidy, +that I happened to see the picture of +Samson in the old scrap-book. I won’t +tell you more about it now, because +you’ll understand better further on, but +it was that picture that put the whole +thing into my head.</p> + +<p>I’d better say at once that of course +we knew that what we meant to do was +naughty, though we pretended to ourselves +that it wasn’t; but we really didn’t +know <i>how</i> naughty it was until Mother +told us afterwards. Besides, we didn’t +wait to let ourselves think, which Mother +says is always a mistake, for it was +directly after lunch that it all happened.</p> + +<p>I don’t think I’ve said that in the +afternoon Lionel always went to sleep; +he really does just as if he were a baby, +only on hot days Cousin Florence sometimes +puts a rug and cushions and +things for him in the garden. Then +every one used to leave him, for we +children were only too glad to get away, +and so they didn’t think they need watch +over him any more.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_30">[30]</span>That afternoon it was very warm, and +it all went most conveniently. Instead +of going up to the orchard though, as +we generally did when Lionel rested, we +hid in the laurel bushes. Then as soon +as Cousin Florence had gone into the +house I crept out. Lionel was still +awake, and I made him put his head +on my knees. I felt rather mean at +that part, but it couldn’t be helped, for +that’s what Delilah really did, and Lionel +didn’t mind, because he likes any one to +cuddle him, instead of only his mother +like most people. Then I sat quite still +though I got the most awful pins and +needles in my left foot.</p> + +<p>At last he went to sleep and I called +“Man, Man,” softly, and Humphrey +came wriggling along the grass, like +we’d planned.</p> + +<p>“Shave off the seven locks of Samson’s +head,” I whispered, but then I saw +that Humph had brought father’s razor +because it said “shave,” so I told him +not to be so silly, but to run and fetch +a pair of scissors.</p> + +<p>Humphrey was very quick, I will say +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_31">[31]</span>that, and Lionel didn’t stir, so the exciting +part could begin. Humph was +the lords of the Philistines now, of +course, and I took the scissors. And +then—it was dreadful I know—I really +cut off Lionel’s curls!</p> + +<p>Lionel never woke, and the scissors +went snip, snip, most beautifully. I did +enjoy it, because I thought so hard about +its being Samson and Delilah that I +couldn’t remember it was naughty. At +last the curls were all off, and though +the hair wasn’t very even, not like the +barber does it, because it was most difficult, +still it was beautifully short in +places. Humph had been looking on +almost too astonished to speak, but when +I jumped up and cried, “The Philistines +be upon thee, Samson,” he rushed at +Lionel like I’d told him to.</p> + +<p>Lionel, though, spoilt it all. He +always does. He wouldn’t do anything +that was proper, nor have his eyes put +out, but just began to howl. He howled +and howled, and Cousin Florence and +Mother and Father and everybody came +tearing out of the house. They all spoke +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_32">[32]</span>at once, and cried out that Lionel’s +appearance was spoilt, and all sorts of +things, and certainly, now that I saw +him properly, he did look rather bad, +and quite ugly. The astonishing part +was that they seemed almost as cross +with Lionel as with us, though I kept +explaining that he’d been asleep all the +time, for that was only fair. Finally +Father sent Humph and me to our +rooms very angrily.</p> + +<p>But I didn’t mind that, like I did +Mother’s coming up that evening and +talking to me. It was dreadful. She +said that she was disappointed in me +and not only had I been rude to guests +myself, but I’d made her and Father +seem rude; and she told me that Cousin +Florence and Lionel were going away +early in the morning, so what I’d done +had practically driven them out of the +house. But the worst was when she +said that she had trusted me to look +after the others, because I was the eldest, +and to be a help to her, but now she +found that she couldn’t, and that she +must ask Fräulein to always stop with +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_33">[33]</span>us. I began to wish that I could be +dead.</p> + +<p>At last, though, Mother forgave me. +And she said that if I was very good for +a long time, then her confidence in me +would come back again, and so I’m going +to be. And I’m never going to be +Delilah again, never, because I see now +how wicked she was to cut off any one’s +hair without first asking her mother.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_34">[34]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">III<br> +<small>VIOLET’S VISIT</small></h2> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap">THE most astonishing part was its +being Violet who was naughty and +not me. I forget if I’ve said anything +about Violet, but the little ones don’t +count very much, for Ted is almost a +baby, and Violet sits all day making doll’s +clothes. Violet is seven, her birthday +was in July, and she has straight, lighty-brown +hair; I think her eyes are brown +too, but she isn’t particularly dark like +me, nor fair like Ted. She isn’t particularly +anything, except good-tempered, +and that she is tremendously. I expect +it’s because she’s rather fat, because all +the rest of us are “lean kine,” and we +certainly aren’t very good-tempered, +although we don’t all have it in the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_35">[35]</span>same way. Humphrey gets sulky and +doesn’t speak at all, and Ted runs +round and round the room slapping +the chairs and saying, “Beast, beast, +beast, beast,” as quickly as ever he +can. As for me, when I get cross, I +want to go away alone, and if I can’t, +I’d like to slap the others, which is +worse than chairs, only I don’t do +it because it makes Mother unhappy; +I believe it hurts her more than +them.</p> + +<p>The curiousest part of Violet is that +the things she is told to do are always +the things she likes, so she must be an +“<i>Engel Kind</i>,” as Fräulein says. And +when once she is told a thing, she +remembers it for ever; she’d make a +simply splendid Casabianca. Humphrey +and I always think that, however much +we’d been told to sit still and not +wriggle, when we saw the fire coming, +we’d have forgotten all about it, and +we’d have jumped up and tried to put it +out. It doesn’t seem as if it ought to +have been very difficult with all that +water around, and I dare say the Father +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_36">[36]</span>would have been just as pleased really +as if we’d all been burnt.</p> + +<p>So you can understand now how +astonished we were at Violet’s being +naughty, though perhaps what she did +wasn’t naughtiness exactly, but too much +goodness, which seems to be nearly as +bad. I’ve been wondering since if goodness +isn’t Violet’s besetting sin, but I +suppose it can’t be really. It’s something +like being too punctual, I think. +Father used to tell us that the Duke of +Wellington owed his success in life to +always being half an hour too early, but +all I can say is, it’s lucky he didn’t have +our Fräulein. One day we tried it, +because there’d been such a lot of fuss +about my being late for breakfast, so I +got up exactly half an hour before we +were called, and of course I made the +others get up too. Well, when Fräulein +came in, she simply stormed and +said I was a “<i>Dummkopf</i>,” and did I +want to give Teddy croup playing in +a room without a fire? She set me half +an hour’s extra practising too; so that +just shows.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_37">[37]</span>This all hasn’t anything to do with +Violet’s scrape; that wasn’t my fault in +the least, no one said it was, not even +Fräulein. If it was anybody’s fault, it +was Mother’s, because she hates paying +calls. I should feel just the same if I +were her, because it’s perfectly horrid +having on your best clothes; you can’t +climb trees, nor hang by your legs nor +do anything interesting, but Humphrey +says he shall go calling all day when he’s +grown up, so as to get scones and things +for tea. Humphrey has got an awfully +sweet tooth, and he is rather greedy +besides. Another thing he says is that +he doesn’t mind whom he marries, but +he has settled to have a most enormous +wedding-cake, and to cut it himself. I +like wedding-cake too, but I don’t care +about it as much as all that, and I’d +sooner be a widow, of course.</p> + +<p>Well, to go on about Violet. How +it all started was that one evening Father +said to Mother, “You’ve never called +on those Crespignys who’ve come to +live at Boscombe Park. You really must, +you know, dear.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_38">[38]</span>“I don’t feel very attracted by them,” +Mother said, and she laughed.</p> + +<p>But Father said it was no good being +rude to people, and that the Crespignys +were new comers, so Mother ought to +leave cards this week.</p> + +<p>“Very well,” Mother said, “only I +shall be glad when Molly and Violet are +able to pay my calls for me.”</p> + +<p>“Well, it’s to be hoped Molly will +discontinue her practice of smashing +people’s best crockery and spilling tea +over their plush sofas,” but, of course, I +rushed at Father for saying that. It is +a shame. I only once dropped a plate +when I was out calling, and once I +upset my cup, but the people happened +to be awfully fussy, and Mother said I +mustn’t pay visits any more. I’m sure +it wasn’t my fault that they had velvet +chairs, and no one seems to remember +that it isn’t pleasant sitting there with +scalding tea trickling down your legs, +and never say a word, like the Spartan +boy.</p> + +<p>In the middle of the commotion, +because Father started tickling me when +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_39">[39]</span>I punched him, Violet said suddenly, +“Can’t I go and call on the Crespignys +now?” We were most astonished +because Violet is so shy she generally +cries if she has to see strangers, so I +thought it was just to show she’d be +allowed to, because she doesn’t upset +things like me, and I said very crossly—</p> + +<p>“Oh, we all know you are a saint +without your telling us.”</p> + +<p>I felt sorry directly afterwards, +because Violet got quite red and I ought +to have remembered that she’s very little +and doesn’t understand much besides +dolls, so I got out Aytoun’s Lays and +stuffed my fingers into my ears to show +I didn’t care at all. All the same I +could hear them talking, and Mother +said to Violet—</p> + +<p>“Never mind, dear, I know it wasn’t +that. You shall go to call on the +Crespignys if your new dress comes +home this week, my good little girl.”</p> + +<p>Mother was pleased, because she is +always telling Violet she must conquer +her shyness, and she thought she was +trying to. As for me, I felt horrid.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_40">[40]</span>It was the very next day that Mother +got ill, and that made us forget about +the Crespignys and everything. Mother +isn’t very strong, and she often has to +stay in bed, but this was much worse +than usual and we weren’t allowed to +see her for days. The one nice thing +was that Fräulein was in with Mother +nearly all the time, so there was nobody +to bother us and we could do lots of +nice things. We children used even to +have tea alone; we did like it. I used +to pour out, and there were no fines or +anything if we spilt things on the cloth. +Certainly it did get into rather a mess, +but that was mostly because Humphrey +would drink his milk up a bit of +macaroni like the gentlemen do at +Father’s club, only they use a straw. +Cook was so nice too, she used to send +us up hot buttered toast, and it was all +most lovely, except, of course, Mother’s +being ill, which spoilt everything. That +was almost too horrid to bear, especially +when one went to bed.</p> + +<p>It was the night that cook was kindest +of all and gave us real tea, that Violet +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_41">[41]</span>wasn’t there. I remember it quite well, +because we were so astonished to see +cook bringing up the teapot instead of +our just having a jug of milk, but she +said a drop would liven us up in a house +of trouble. It is a pity cook can’t +always live in houses of trouble, it +makes her so much nicer. Humphrey +was particularly pleased, because he said +he’d always been wanting to try an +experiment of putting the milk and +sugar into the pot and drinking out of +the spout in turns. I couldn’t let him +do it though until after we’d had first +cups, else there wouldn’t have been any +honour in my being Pourer Out at all.</p> + +<p>We’d been wondering where Violet +was ever since tea came, for generally +she’s the only one of us who is punctual +except Teddy, and Fräulein washes his +hands so he can’t help it. I thought +she couldn’t know, so at last I sent +Humph to tell her, though he was +rather cross and would only go after +we’d said three times “Certain true, +black and blue, lay me down and cut +me in two,” that we wouldn’t touch his +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_42">[42]</span>toast. We didn’t like to shout for +Violet, you see, because of Mother.</p> + +<p>Well, Humph was gone a long time, +because he always takes longer over +everything than you’d think a person +possibly could, and when he came back +he said he couldn’t find Violet. I wasn’t +surprised at that and I went myself +expecting that I’d see her directly, but +I didn’t. I hunted everywhere, but I +couldn’t find any sign of her, until at +last when I went into our bedroom +again, I noticed that the string had been +taken off the box in which her new dress +had come from the dressmaker’s. I +opened it, and her new dress had gone, +so had her best hat and coat! We +remembered then that we hadn’t seen +her all the afternoon. It was most +astonishing.</p> + +<p>I didn’t know what to do; I really +didn’t. It was quite dark outside by +now so I thought Violet must have gone +out and got lost, and I began to plan +about their bringing her home dead, but +I didn’t want to tell people and get her +into a scrape, besides, Fräulein was in +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_43">[43]</span>Mother’s room. It didn’t seem either +as if Violet could have done anything +so dreadfully naughty as to go out alone +and get killed, besides wearing her best +clothes on a week-day.</p> + +<p>We’d finished tea by now, and we put +crumbs and things in Violet’s place to +pretend she’d been there, but I wouldn’t +let Humph upset her cup, because Violet +is so tidy it wouldn’t have looked more +real at all, and he only wanted to because +he thought it would be so lovely to spill +things on purpose. About six o’clock +Father came in and I was just going to +tell him, but the first thing he said was, +“Why, where’s little Mrs. Roundabout?” +He calls Violet that because +she is so fat.</p> + +<p>Father was as surprised as any of us +when he heard she was lost, but he +didn’t think she could have gone out. +“Nonsense,” he said, “she must have +gone to sleep in some corner,” as if +anybody except babies and grown-ups +would go to sleep in the daytime. +However, we searched the house all +over again. It was rather nice at first, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_44">[44]</span>only then I thought of the Princes in +the Tower and I was afraid I’d find her +body mouldering in the boot cupboard +or somewhere, but we didn’t see anything +at all. Then Father and Stubbins +(he is the gardener) searched all over the +garden with lanterns like in a book, but +they didn’t find anything there either. +After that, they came in again and +Father told Stubbins to go to the village +and make inquiries at every cottage, and +he was just getting ready himself to +bicycle round to all the people we know, +when suddenly the front door opened—and +there was Violet.</p> + +<p>She didn’t look a bit naughty, that +was what surprised me most. She was +just smiling to herself like she does +sometimes in church, and she’d got on +her best things, like I thought, and +Mother’s black <i>moiré</i> parasol in one +hand and her ivory card case in the +other and the plush case with the opera +glasses over her arm. I think Father +was all the crosser because she looked +so pleased. Anyway he almost shouted +out, “Where on earth have you been, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_45">[45]</span>turning the whole house upside down? +Upon my word it’s perfectly intolerable!”</p> + +<p>Well, after that it wasn’t any good +talking any more, for Violet began to +cry, and when she once starts she goes +on and on for hours and can’t understand +anything. Father asked her where she’d +been about a hundred times but she +wouldn’t answer, so at last he marched +off, telling her to go upstairs and that +she wasn’t to come down until she’d +apologised.</p> + +<p>I did wish Mother was there; she’d +have made it all nice at once. I +remembered though about being the +eldest, and I tried to think of the kind +of things Mother would have done, so I +took Violet’s hand and we went upstairs +together. When we got to the schoolroom +I sat down in the big armchair +and I managed to drag Violet on to my +lap, and I took off her boots and hugged +her and told Humph to try and get +some bread and jam out of cook +because that makes you feel a lot less +miserable. Violet was still crying, but +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_46">[46]</span>I sat there, though my arms began to +feel as if they’d drop off, when at last +she sobbed out, “I thought everybody +would be so pleased, and Mother said I +was to.” She wouldn’t say anything +else but just that over and over again, +crying all the time, so, of course, I +couldn’t understand, but I just went on +kissing her and didn’t talk, like Mother +does. It had never been so easy to be +nice to Violet before.</p> + +<p>It seemed a long time before Humph +brought the bread and jam, but when he +did it was strawberry jam, which was +particularly lucky because it’s Violet’s +favourite. I told Humph he’d better +go away again, and then at last Violet +stopped crying, and so I said to her, +“But what was it Mother said you were +to do?”</p> + +<p>Violet looked quite surprised, “Why +go and call on the Crespignys, of course. +She partic’ly said I was to, if my new +dress came home.”</p> + +<p>I nearly let her roll off my lap. She’d +almost been doing it the whole time +because she’s so fat, but now she nearly +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_47">[47]</span>went quite because I was so astonished. +I’d have thought she was making it up, +if it had been one of the others, but +Violet never pretends. “How ever did +you get there?” I said.</p> + +<p>I could hardly believe it when she +said she’d walked; it’s more than three +miles each way, and I don’t think even +I have ever walked as far as that. +“Weren’t you very frightened?” I +asked.</p> + +<p>I don’t know if I ought to put the +next bit, but it truthfully isn’t bragging +because it is what Violet answered: “I +thought I’d try and be brave like you,” +she said.</p> + +<p>Of course, after that I hugged her +again and she went on telling me more.</p> + +<p>“I <i>was</i> dreadfully frightened when I +got to the house and went up the big +steps. So I shut my eyes and said, +‘Gentle Jesus, meek and mild,’ and at +the Amen I jumped and pulled the bell. +It made a dreadfully loud ring and +almost at once the door opened and +there were two gentlemen with white +hair but quite young-looking faces and +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_48">[48]</span>such pretty clothes. Oh Molly, I shall +dress Rhoderigo William Wallace like +that with beautiful red plush knickerbockers +and——”</p> + +<p>“Go on,” I said, because I was most +interested; it seemed just like in a +story.</p> + +<p>“Well, I said to one of the gentlemen, +‘Please is Mrs. Crespigny indoors +because I’ve come to pay a call on her?’ +So he said, ‘Yes, her ladyship is at +home, but who might you be, Miss?’ +I told him my name was Violet, and +that my Mother didn’t want to come, +besides being ill, and then I handed him +Mother’s card case that I’d filled with +visiting cards of my own, like those you +wrote for the guinea-pig. He took one +out and gave it to the other gentleman, +saying, ‘John, go and ask her ladyship.’ +That is what they called Mrs. Crespigny, +so I knew she must be really a princess +and that that was why she had such +beautiful servants.</p> + +<p>“There was a lot of laughing somewhere, +but presently Mr. John came +back and said, ‘Walk this way, Miss,’ +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_49">[49]</span>so I followed him into a big room, +where there were lots of people, but, oh +Molly, they didn’t have crowns on or +satin dresses, or anything, they had +partic’ly ugly clothes, and all the ladies +wore things just like gentlemen, only +not trousers; Mr. John was the only +beautiful one there.</p> + +<p>“I was just looking round because +there seemed to be such lots and lots of +people, when a lady came up, I think it +was Mrs. Crespigny, and she said in +rather a cross way, ‘So you’ve come to +call on me because your Mother doesn’t +care to,’ and so I said ‘Yes,’ and every +one laughed, I don’t know why. I +stood there and I didn’t know what to +do until I remembered Mother telling +some one that at calls the ladies talked +about the weather and babies from the +time she went into the room to the time +she came out, so I said ‘Good morning, +your ladyship. It is a lovely day. +Have you got any babies?’</p> + +<p>“Well, I don’t see how I could help +it, because I couldn’t talk about her +babies without knowing if she’d got +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_50">[50]</span>any, but everybody looked as if I’d said +something naughty, and Mrs. Crespigny +went right away very angrily, and just +at that minute Mother’s parasol dropped +with a great clatter, so I thought Mrs. +Crespigny would be really cross, and +when I picked it up, the opera glasses +dropped too. It was dreadful. One +gentleman said, ‘Allow me,’ and he put +them over my arm again just as if I’d +been grown up, and I began to feel a +little better, only then he said, ‘Won’t +you give me a kiss?’ I said, ‘No, thank +you,’ and they all laughed again.</p> + +<p>“There’d been a lady standing near, +a very funny lady with a whip in her +hand, and quite a short skirt, and short +hair too, and gaiters like Father’s; and +she said all at once, ‘Dash it all! leave +the kid alone and give it some grub.’ +She truthfully did, and she was quite +grown up; but perhaps her mother had +never told her she oughtn’t to use bad +words like that.</p> + +<p>“This lady was kind, though she was +so funny. She got me some milk, because +Mother never said I might have +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_51">[51]</span>tea when I went calling, though I did +want it, ’specially as lots of people were +having it so funnily in teeny-weeny +little glasses without any milk or sugar; +and the lady got me a nice little pink +cake too. Then she sat down beside +me and asked me why I’d come, and she +hardly seemed to believe it when I told +her Mother had said I could go and pay +calls instead of her now. She asked me +about the opera glasses too, so I said I +knew people took them when they went +out, but I hadn’t been sure about calls, +only I thought it was a good thing +always to be on the safe side, like Jane +says. The funny lady asked me who +Jane was, and I said, ‘Our housemaid,’ +and the funny lady said it was a wise +rule, although perhaps opera glasses +were not very customary when calling.</p> + +<p>“Just at this minute I looked up, and +I saw a most ’stonishing thing. A lady +was holding a cigarette, and a gentleman +was striking a match to light it. The +gentleman saw me looking and he began +to laugh, and he called out, ‘Take care, +or that little girl’s eyes will drop out of +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_52">[52]</span>her head with fright.’ Then he said, +‘Haven’t you ever seen a lady smoke +before?’ and I said, ‘No ladies ever do +smoke,’ and they all laughed again, I +don’t know why. They seemed to be +always laughing.</p> + +<p>“The clock struck then, and that +made me think of the time, so I asked +them if I’d been there twenty minutes +yet, because I’d forgotten to look when +I came in. I’d asked Father yesterday +how long people ought to stay at calls, +and he told me he believed twenty +minutes was the correct time. One +gentleman said I’d been in the room +twenty-one minutes, fifteen seconds and +three-quarters, so I went out quickly. +I didn’t know if I ought to shake hands +with Mr. John and the other beautiful +one at the door, but I had such a lot +of things to carry I thought they’d +excuse me, so I just said goodbye. +That’s all. It was such a long way +home I thought it would never come. +It was such a very long way.”</p> + +<p>Wasn’t that astonishing? I hadn’t +interrupted Violet, because I wanted to +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_53">[53]</span>hear it all, though of course I knew that +she’d made a mistake, and that Mother +had never meant that she should go and +call on the Crespignys alone. It was +no good saying anything when she’d +finished because she was nearly asleep, +so I just went and helped her to go to +bed.</p> + +<p>Then I went down and told Father. +I tried to tell him exactly what Violet +had said, and he simply roared with +laughter. I didn’t think it was funny +myself, but just like a story; and I do +think Violet was very brave. Father +went up at once to forgive her and say +good-night, but she was too sleepy to +understand anything except that it was +all right.</p> + +<p>Violet didn’t go calling any more, +but the very next Christmas a most +lovely mother-of-pearl card case came +for her, with her initials on, which just +shows that if you really try to be good +it is nice in the end. When Mother +saw it, she said she thought the funny +lady must have sent it, the one who +talked bad words, but Violet always +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_54">[54]</span>believes it was a present from Mr. +John. She has made Rhoderigo +William Wallace a pair of red velvet +knickerbockers out of a bit from +Fräulein’s old bonnet, and they are +most beautiful, except that he can’t sit +down. Perhaps that is why Mr. John +never did either.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_55">[55]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">IV<br> +<small>THE WHIPPING OF TEDDY</small></h2> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap">WE were all sitting so happily one +evening when Mother told us. +She had been reading aloud to us, as she +always does on Sundays after tea, and +it was the <i>Water-Babies</i>. It is a most +lovely story, and makes you want to +drown dreadfully, but we had just got +to the end. “That’s all,” Mother said, +and shut the book. Then she stopped +a minute. “Chicks, Mother has got to +go a long journey too, to the Other-end-of-Nowhere, +like little Tom.”</p> + +<p>Well, we all thought Mother was +joking, and we laughed. Teddy was +sitting on her lap, because he is the +littlest, and we all snuggle down on the +rug around. The Dustman had come +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_56">[56]</span>to him rather, because it was past his +bedtime, only he stays up later on +Sundays. “Teddy going to the Other-end-of-Nowhere,” +he said, in a very +sleepy way.</p> + +<p>We all laughed again at that. “Yes, +and Mother is Mrs. Doasyouwouldbedoneby,” +Humphrey said. Mother +didn’t answer.</p> + +<p>“Are we really going away, +Mother?” I asked.</p> + +<p>I looked up then, and I was most +astonished. Mother’s eyes were full of +tears. “Little Tom had to go alone,” +she said, “and poor Mother must go +alone too, without her Water-babies.”</p> + +<p>All at once I got frightened. I +clutched Mother’s hand hard and sat +still. I didn’t seem able to speak at all. +“But how long for, Mother?” Humph +asked. “Fwee days?” Because Mother +does sometimes go away from Friday to +Monday with Father, although we all +grumble very much.</p> + +<p>We couldn’t see Mother’s face at all, +for she was kissing Teddy’s head. He +was quite asleep by now. “No, for a +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_57">[57]</span>much longer time than that,” she said; +“for more than three months—for the +whole winter.”</p> + +<p>“Oh no, no, no!” Humph and +Violet called out; but I still couldn’t +speak. I seemed to have expected it +somehow. “But why, Mother, why?” +Humphrey said. “We haven’t been +very naughty.”</p> + +<p>Then Mother told us. She said that +when she was so ill last month (the +time that Violet went calling all alone) +our doctor had said that he thought +she mustn’t be in England for the cold +weather. And yesterday, when she went +up to London with Father, she had been +to see a very great doctor, and he had +said just the same, and that she must +start off almost directly.</p> + +<p>“But take us, take us too, Mother,” +Humph begged. Still I couldn’t say +anything.</p> + +<p>“I can’t, my little son, I can’t. We +aren’t rich enough. It is difficult for +Father even to find the money for +Mother to go alone.”</p> + +<p>“Think how nice it will be when +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_58">[58]</span>I come back again,” Mother said +presently. “It will be getting summer, +and we’ll go for lovely picnics in the +woods. And there will be surprises in +my box, such surprises for each one +of you!”</p> + +<p>“Mother going away for two, five, +six, a million years!” Teddy shouted +suddenly. He clapped his hands and +laughed as if it were something nice.</p> + +<p>Well, I couldn’t help it; it seemed +more than one could bear. “Be quiet, +you hateful, horrid idiot!” I said. +“If you are glad Mother is going, +every one isn’t.”</p> + +<p>“Hush, hush, Molly!” Mother said. +“Teddy is so little, he doesn’t understand.” +She laid her hand on my +head. Then no one said anything for +a long time. Violet had started off to +cry, and Humph was crying too, though +he pretended he wasn’t, so he wouldn’t +blow his nose, but kept on kind of +snorting. It couldn’t have been that +his handkerchief was dirty, because it +was Sunday. As for me, I was behind +Mother’s chair, and no one could see +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_59">[59]</span>me. Teddy was the only happy one; +he’d gone to sleep again.</p> + +<p>“Oh, children, children!” all at once +Mother said. “Don’t make it harder +for me. Mother hates to go.”</p> + +<p>Well, I hadn’t thought about it that +way before. There was Mother going +all alone, and at least I’d got the Count +of Aulon, (he’s my rat), besides the +others.</p> + +<p>“You’ll—you’ll get quite strong +there, Mother, won’t you? and be +able to run races and—and all sorts +of things, when you come back?” +My voice was hardly funny at all.</p> + +<p>But suddenly Mother began to cry; +she really did. “My little ones! oh, +my ‘preshun cats!’” she whispered. +That’s what we like her to call us when +we are very cuddly. And for a minute +we all sort of cried together.</p> + +<p>“Why, this will never do; Mother +is the biggest baby of you all,” Mother +said, and she smiled. “Soon there +will be a big pond on the carpet, +and you will be really water-babies. +Wouldn’t Teddy be surprised to wake +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_60">[60]</span>up and find himself swimming about +the drawing-room. Come, we must +put the wee man to bed.” As Mother +laughed, of course we all laughed too.</p> + +<p>Well, in the next few days we got +more used to the idea of Mother’s going +away, and it didn’t seem quite so dreadful. +She told us that she was going to +a place called Algiers, where there were +black people, real live ones walking +about the streets in funny clothes, and +that she’d draw pictures of them for us, +and of course that was very interesting. +But still we were pretty miserable—all +except Teddy. It seemed as if I couldn’t +forgive him. He didn’t mind a bit +more than he had done the first evening, +even when he was quite awake. I began +to think he hadn’t got any heart, like +Nero. Now Humph, though at times +you’d think he cared about nothing but +what sort of pudding there was going +to be for dinner, yet when big sort of +things come, you just find out he does. +And he is most awfully brave too, +Humph is. Once he chopped a piece +off his finger and the blood was simply +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_61">[61]</span>pouring out, and all he said was, “Tie +on the bit, quick; it must kneel by first +attention.” I don’t know what he +meant, but there’d been a gentleman +staying who talked a lot of doctoring +stuff with Father, so I expect it was +some of that. Anyway, it was very +brave.</p> + +<p>The days before Mother went seemed +each about as long as five ordinary days, +and yet very short too. It was a funny +thing. At last the morning came for +her to start. We had to get up very +early, because she and Father were +going by the 7.45 train, and so the +lamp was lit at breakfast, and that +always makes you feel queer and choky. +Mother couldn’t eat anything, and +Father was sort of scolding her all the +time to get her to; and we were sitting +as close to her as we could squeeze, all +dressed anyhow, and not having had +time to brush our teeth—at least, +Humph and I hadn’t. As for Ted, +Fräulein hadn’t dressed him at all, but +had just brought him down to say goodbye +in his little scarlet dressing-gown, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_62">[62]</span>which is made out of my old winter +jacket; he sat on Mother’s lap and tried +to hold a fork with his toes, and he still +seemed quite happy. I’d have liked to +shake him if I hadn’t been so miserable +myself.</p> + +<p>At last there was a ring at the bell, +and it was the fly. “Now do try to +drink up your coffee, my dear,” Father +said; but Mother said, “I can’t, I +can’t.” “Well, we must start at once,” +Father said. It was all very well for +him, for he was going to London with +Mother and down to the ship to see +her off.</p> + +<p>Mother got up though, and put +Teddy into the big chair by the fire, +kissing him all the while. He had still +got the fork in his toes. “Look, look, +Teddy eat breakfast with his feet!” +he called out, pointing to them. He +didn’t seem able to think of anything +else.</p> + +<p>Mother went out into the hall with +the rest of us clinging to her, and down +the garden path to the fly. Just as she +was getting in, Father or some one +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_63">[63]</span>asked if she’d got her keys, and Jane +the housemaid had to go tearing indoors +for them. While we were waiting, +Fräulein looked round and gave a little +cry. There was Teddy creeping down +the garden, his little toes all curling up +as they touched the ground, and no fork +at all.</p> + +<p>“<i>Ach</i>, you naughty, naughty <i>Kindchen</i>! +Go in out of the cold. You will have +your death,” cried Fräulein, and she +rushed back and carried him into the +house and then came out again shutting +the front door.</p> + +<p>It took two or three minutes for +Mother to get settled in the fly and the +luggage to be arranged, and then we all +hugged her in a sort of a heap and they +began to drive off, Mother kissing her +hand out of the window. I didn’t see +that though, Humph told me afterwards, +because I was running indoors as hard as +I could tear and as it was I could only +just hold in the crying until I got to +the bathroom. I’ve discovered that you +can pull out a bit of the wood that’s +round the bath and creep in sort of +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_64">[64]</span>behind, so it’s a lovely place for times of +trouble. At least, I didn’t exactly discover +the place, but I saw it when the +man came to mend the taps; he was a +very nice man and gave me some putty.</p> + +<p>Well, when I got into the bathroom, +I was very surprised to see that the bit +of wood had been pulled out already and +was lying on the floor, and then when I +began to crawl in I was still more surprised +because there was a funny noise +coming from inside, like the guinea-pig +makes when he is excited. I was so +astonished that I stopped crying.</p> + +<p>I crawled quickly, though it’s very +squeezy, but, of course, that’s really a +great ’vantage because no grown-up could +possibly come after. And when I got +to the end, there was a large curled-up +heap; I couldn’t see much because it’s +almost dark, but I thought it must be a +dear dog, so I put out my hand to feel. +It was something soft, but not like a dog, +more like a person; then I felt some +curly hair. “Teddy!” I called out, +most amazed, because I didn’t know any +of them knew of this place but me. (I +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_65">[65]</span>hadn’t meant to be mean in not telling, +but one must keep somewhere for times +of great trouble.)</p> + +<p>The funny noise was still going on, +and then I remembered it’s what Teddy +does, when he cries very hard; he hardly +ever cries at all though, that’s how I’d +forgotten. “What is the matter, Ted?” +I said. I couldn’t cuddle him because +there wasn’t room, but I stroked him as +well as I could lying on my stomach.</p> + +<p>“Go in out of the cold,” he said. +“Go in out of the cold. Mother gone +away for a million years. Go in out of +the cold.”</p> + +<p>I felt I loved him ever so much more +to find he really did mind about Mother +going away. “But, Teddy, you’d have +only seen Mother for a minute more, if +Fräulein hadn’t sent you in out of the +cold,” I told him.</p> + +<p>Then he began to squeak with crying +more than ever. “I was g—going to +c—creep under the c—carriage-seat and +be a st—stowboy on the ship. And +c—come out at the place with b—black +people. I’d g—got a c—crust of bread +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_66">[66]</span>in my d—dressing-gown pocket all r—ready. +Mother g—gone away for a +m—million years.”</p> + +<p>Wasn’t that a good plan? I should +never have thought Teddy could have +invented anything so sensible. I said, +“Did you make it all up yourself?” +and he said, “Yes,” very pleased, because +he saw that I admired it. What made +me feel dreadful though, was that all +these days I’d thought he didn’t care and +was going to grow up like Nero.</p> + +<p>Just then we heard Fräulein calling, +“Teddy, Teddy, where are you?” as if +she were in a great state of mind. So I +said we must come else she’d discover +the secret place. We crawled out and I +shut up the little door carefully. Then +I shouted, “Teddy’s in here, Fräulein.”</p> + +<p>I thought that Fräulein would be +cross, but she wasn’t; I suppose it was +to sort of make up for Mother’s going, +besides she’s nearly always nice to +Teddy. She just laughed and said, +“<i>Du böser Bube</i>; you have me so +frightened.”</p> + +<p>She took hold of Ted’s hand and was +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_67">[67]</span>taking him away to dress him, but he +caught hold of me. “Molly get me up +to-day,” he said.</p> + +<p>I <i>was</i> pleased. You see it had often +made me feel rather horrid Teddy’s being +so much fonder of Fräulein than he is +of me. Another thing I didn’t like was +that when Teddy was a baby, a real +baby I mean, I used to cuddle and nurse +him heaps, but lately he’d said it was +silly and that I didn’t do it to Humph. +He wouldn’t even let me kiss him.</p> + +<p>It was when I was dressing Ted that +I found out something. He was telling +me more about his plan for going with +Mother and how he had meant to wait +hidden in the carriage until she got into +the train, and then scramble under the +seat of the train when she wasn’t +looking. “You see I thinked I could +do it, because everybody says I’m +so small. You don’t call it a silly +plan?”</p> + +<p>“No, it was a lovely plan,” I said.</p> + +<p>“I was ’fraid you call it silly. And +if I think of lots and lots of lovely plans, +will you soon, in three, eight, a million +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_68">[68]</span>days let me play in the games with you +and Humph?”</p> + +<p>“But you do sometimes.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, but you think I’m a bother.”</p> + +<p>I did feel horrid, because he is rather +a bother, but we hadn’t meant him to +find it out. “There’s nobody for me +to play with,” he said, beginning to +squeak again, “Violet’s always doing +her dolls and Mother’s gone away for +a million——”</p> + +<p>“We’ll have a new game, and there +will be a real part for you, like Humph’s,” +I said quickly.</p> + +<p>Teddy clapped his hands and jumped +for joy. “And will you knock me +about and tortoise me just like you +do Humph?” He meant torture +only he didn’t quite know the right +word.</p> + +<p>I said “Yes,” and I began to think +of a game that minute. “I’ve got a +lovely one out of the book Mother has +been reading to us,” I said. “I’ll be the +Sweep Grimes, and you’ll be little Tom. +I shall always shout at you with horrid +words and beat you dreadfully and send +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_69">[69]</span>you up the most difficult wiggly +chimneys.”</p> + +<p>“And light straw under if I don’t go +up quick enough.” Ted jigged up and +down, so that I could hardly brush his +hair; he hugged me all of himself.</p> + +<p>Humph and I get excited over our +games sometimes, but I don’t think we +ever were so excited as Ted got. I +believe he never thought about anything +else. He used to ask me to come up +and say good-night to him, because of +course he goes to bed earlier than us, +and then he’d hug me and whisper, +“Fräulein doesn’t know, but I haven’t +really had my broth but just a mouldy +crust, and I’m not really wearing my +new pyjamas but just old rags, and this +isn’t really a bed at all but just a heap +of dirty straw;” and I’d say in an +awful Grimesy voice, “Be quiet, else I’ll +kick you out to sleep in the street.”</p> + +<p>All the same, it was through this +game that Teddy got into such trouble. +One afternoon it was very cold and +there was a horrid wind, so Fräulein +said that Teddy had better not come for +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_70">[70]</span>a walk with the rest of us, because of +getting croupy. “I will lend you my +German picture-book, with the pictures +that move, as a treat,” she said, “and +you must be very good.” Then she +asked Jane to give an eye to him every +now and then.</p> + +<p>We hate going out for walks, it’s so +dull, and this one was particularly +horrid. We were very glad to get back, +and we rushed to the schoolroom fire.</p> + +<p>“Why, where’s Teddy?” Fräulein +said. “He must have gone to the +dining-room.”</p> + +<p>He wasn’t in the dining-room either, +nor in the kitchen. Jane’s sister had +come to tea (the one who has got a +beautiful tooth that unscrews), and they +were all talking and laughing very loud.</p> + +<p>“Where’s Master Teddy?” Fräulein +said.</p> + +<p>“Oh, he was looking at a book not a +minute ago as good as gold, Miss,” Jane +said, and went on talking. The servants +do get rather different when Mother and +Father are away, though Jane is most +kind. Last Sunday she let me warm the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_71">[71]</span>sort of scissors thing for her that she +curls her hair with, and she has +promised to lend it to me one day. It +will be lovely for tortures.</p> + +<p>Fräulein began calling, “Teddy, +Teddy,” but he didn’t answer. She +went and looked in all the bedrooms +and seemed to get quite frightened. +“<i>Ach Herzliebchen!</i>” she kept muttering, +“if harm should have befallen thee +and <i>die Mutter</i> away.” I wondered if +he could have started paying calls like +Violet!</p> + +<p>At last I opened the drawing-room +door. We hadn’t thought of looking +there directly because we never use the +room when Mother is away. And what +I saw surprised me so that I stood quite +still.</p> + +<p>There was a dust-sheet laid out on +the floor very neatly, and it was all +covered with soot. A lot of soot had +got on the carpet, too, around. All the +vases on the mantelpiece were covered +with soot and standing quite deep in it, +and the pictures near had a layer of soot +on the tops. Even the chairs had a +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_72">[72]</span>good lot of soot on them. And there +in the middle, hanging down in the fireplace +were a pair of bare and very sooty +legs.</p> + +<p>“Teddy,” Fräulein called loud and +angrily. She had come in behind +me without my noticing her. There +was a sort of scuffle, and Teddy came +tumbling down the chimney into the +fender, bringing a whole cloud of soot +with him. He had only got his shirt +on, and he had the hearthbrush in one +hand and the poker in the other. He +was dirtier than any one I ever saw; he +did look beautifully real though.</p> + +<p>“It wanted sweeping awfully, couldn’t +have been done for a million years,” he +spluttered, very pleased.</p> + +<p>Well, Fräulein was furious. I don’t +think I’ve ever seen her so angry, certainly +not with Teddy. And now the +awful part comes. She caught hold of +Teddy and whipped him, really whipped +him, not fun!</p> + +<p>Teddy was so astonished that for the +first two slaps he never made a sound; +then he simply howled. He sobbed +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_73">[73]</span>with squeaks all the way into the bathroom, +and all the time Fräulein bathed +him and all the time she dried him, and +when she carried him into the schoolroom +and put him in front of the fire, +he was still sobbing. Fräulein went to +get him out some clean clothes and +things but he stood there, wrapped in a +big bath towel, sobbing and sobbing and +squeaking until I couldn’t bear it.</p> + +<p>I went and put my arm round him. +I’d thought it rather a shame all the +time, because I don’t see that he’d been +so very naughty. No one had ever told +him he mustn’t climb up chimneys and +sweep them. Of course it was very +silly of him, and I knew Mother +wouldn’t like the soot all over the +drawing-room carpet, especially when +it’s Persian and the best one in the +house, not to mention the chairs and +pictures and it’s being a trouble for the +servants. Still I’m sure Mother wouldn’t +have whipped Teddy. So I put my +arms round him and whispered, “Never +mind, Ted, it’s all right now. It’s all +right.” Fräulein came into the room, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_74">[74]</span>but she didn’t say anything. She gave +me his shirt and knickerbockers to put +on, and went off to get his stockings. +I believe she was rather sorry she’d done +it herself.</p> + +<p>At last Teddy began to speak, though +he was still sobbing. “Th—there’s one +th—thing, though, she th—thinks she +h—hurt me, but she d—didn’t; no, not +a bit.”</p> + +<p>“Well, if I didn’t, why are you +crying, then?” Fräulein said, who had +come in suddenly.</p> + +<p>Teddy didn’t answer. He went on +sobbing, but much less. Suddenly he +whispered in my ear, “She didn’t +h—hurt me h—half as much as you +often do when we’re Grimesing,” and +then he smiled a little bit.</p> + +<p>So I said, “Shall I be Grimes now?” +and he nodded. Fräulein had gone +away again by now.</p> + +<p>“And we’ll pretend you swept a +chimney at a very grand house and made +rather a mess.” Then I went on in +the awful voice, “You scamp, I’ll thrash +you within two inches of your life.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_75">[75]</span>“With a rope end?” Teddy said. +He began to look quite happy. “I +saw a piece in the stable-yard yesterday, +Molly,” he went on, sort of coaxingly.</p> + +<p>“Shall I go out and get it to knock +you with?” I asked him.</p> + +<p>“Oh, Molly!”—he put both his +arms round my neck and gave a little +shriek for happiness—“Oh, Molly, I do +love you!”</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_76">[76]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">V<br> +<small>THE RAGE OF THE HEATHEN</small></h2> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap">I  ADVISE you not ever to be a +missionary. I don’t mean the +proper sort that get eaten up by +savages and cassowaries, because you +can’t do that until you’re grown up; but +don’t try and be a missionarying child +at home. If you do, the most disagreeable +things will happen, though perhaps +that part wouldn’t have been so bad if +Mother had been there.</p> + +<p>It was in November, very soon after +Mother had gone away, that Humphrey +and I went to the children’s service. I +know it was then because the day before +had been Guy Fawkes day, and so +everything seemed dull and horrid, like +it does when there’s just been something +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_77">[77]</span>very nice, and that was why we went. +Jane took us—she’s the housemaid +and very fond of things like that, not +only reading the Bible, which any one +would enjoy, but she loves the most +difficult books of sermons and prayers, +and she doesn’t even think the litany a +little bit too long.</p> + +<p>I don’t mean that it was Jane that +made us think about being missionaries; +it was the clergyman himself. He was +a stranger, and his sermon wasn’t a bit +like other sermons; it was most interesting, +and it was all about setting +a good example and being an influence +unto righteousness in the lives of little +brothers and sisters and lots of things +like that. I began to think he must +know I was the eldest.</p> + +<p>Well, I listened to every word he +said, I truthfully did, and all the way +coming home I talked to Humphrey +about it, and planned how to be a home +missionary. We settled that we must +be very kind to the Poor Heathens—those +were Violet and Ted—because +they didn’t know any better, but that +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_78">[78]</span>we’d have to be very firm. Of course, +it was rather silly for Humph to be +talking like that, because he was really a +Poor Heathen too, but he didn’t seem to +understand that part properly. I didn’t +like to explain it to him then either, +and that was the first great mistake, +because afterwards he used to get +awfully sulky and cross about it, which +just showed that he really was a heathen +like I said. Besides, how could he +possibly be anything else?</p> + +<p>The clergyman had said one mustn’t +put off doing good, so I started directly +we got home. Fräulein had gone out +to see a friend, and we were to have tea +alone, which was a good thing, because +it made it easier. I went and tidied +myself very nicely, and then I came +into the schoolroom. I said, “Violet +and Ted, have you washed your hands +for tea?”</p> + +<p>They both looked most astonished. +Violet said, “Of course I have, I +always do,” which is quite true, but I +thought she might just have forgotten +that once. That was the worst of +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_79">[79]</span>Violet though, she was so good she +made a perfectly horrid heathen. Teddy +only laughed and said, “Fräulein forgot +to wash mine and now she’s gone out. +Hooray!”</p> + +<p>So then I began to talk quite properly. +I said, “That doesn’t make the least +difference; you should do your duty +in life, if any one is there to make you +or not.” I said lots more, too, just as +nice. I said, “It’s a horrible habit to +sit down to table with dirty hands, and +any gentleman would scorn such a foul +deed.” I made him come with me to +wash them at once, though he didn’t +like it, ’specially when I cut his nails, +every one, and pushed them all down +most beautifully.</p> + +<p>The other two had nearly finished tea +by the time we came back. It <i>was</i> +naughty of them. Of course, I had to +tell them of it, so I began to talk again, +but really, it wasn’t a bit crossly. I +spoke more in sorrow than in anger. I +said that such disgraceful behaviour was +excusable in Violet, as she was so little, +but that I should have thought that +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_80">[80]</span>Humphrey would have known better. +I said that in any respectable society +they always waited to begin meals for +the Pourer Out. They both looked very +cross, but they didn’t say anything. For +one thing, Humph’s mouth was too full. +Suddenly he got down from his chair +without asking any permission, and +walked across to the fireplace. Then +he started toasting his bread and +butter!</p> + +<p>Well, I really didn’t want to make +any more fusses, but what was I to do? +Fräulein had particularly said we weren’t +to toast our slices, because the butter +will drip about, besides its being too +nice to be good for you. So I just said +very firmly, “Come and sit in your +place this minute.” Well, he didn’t. +Being a missionary is very difficult.</p> + +<p>Of course I started talking again, +though I’d hardly had a bit of tea, and +I was most hungry. I said that Humphrey +was disobeying Fräulein, who had +been set in authority over us, and that +it was just as bad as breaking laws, and +that he might as well commit murder +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_81">[81]</span>or anything. I said very likely one day +he would. He said he didn’t care, and +that it didn’t say anything in the Bible +about not making toast, and that +Mother had never told us not to either. +I said any way Mother had always told +us to do what Fräulein said, but it all +wasn’t the least use.</p> + +<p>I had to let him do it, for I couldn’t +threaten to tell Fräulein—that seemed +too mean. I couldn’t drag him away +either, because he’d got the slice on his +knife, and I thought he might get cut. +Of course, I might have got hurt too, +but that would have been quite right +for a missionary, and rather nice. Any +way, I determined that he shouldn’t do +any more, so I took the plate with all +the rest of the bread and butter on my +lap and held it tight. Then I sat in +silence and dignity.</p> + +<p>I shouldn’t have thought that even +Humph could have taken so long over +one bit of toast, but I expect he did it +to pay me out; it was all frizzly and +smelt most delicious. I sat there, though, +and never moved except when I gave +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_82">[82]</span>the little ones more. I couldn’t eat a +single mouthful myself. Even that +didn’t make me cross. I said in the +nicest way at the end, “And now, +children, we’ll have grace.”</p> + +<p>Well, you see, the worst of it was +we don’t generally say grace except at +dinner, so Humph answered directly, +“Why should we? We never do,” and +Teddy copies every one, so he shouted +out, too, “Sha’n’t; we never do.” As +for Violet, she just looked astonished.</p> + +<p>“My dear children,” I said most +exactly like the clergyman, “we are +certainly going to have grace, and I +shall say it,” but before I could begin +Humphrey roared out, “If we have +gwace I shall say it, because I’m a man.” +It was dreadfully silly; just as if he +could, when besides being younger, he +was only a heathen!</p> + +<p>I tried to explain this to him kindly, +I really did, but he wouldn’t understand. +So it ended in our both shouting out, +“For what we have received the Lord +make us truly thankful,” at the tops of +our voices, with our hands over our ears, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_83">[83]</span>which didn’t seem quite right, and +suddenly in the middle the bread-and-butter +plate fell off my lap—crash! It +was broken to little bits.</p> + +<p>That was the first disagreeable thing +that happened, for not even missionaries +like their pocket-money to be stopped +for two weeks, but there were lots more +to come. And it wasn’t only big things +that were horrid, being a missionary +seemed to make everybody cross the +whole day long. Now there was Father. +You see, I was trying hard to be good +myself, besides improving the Poor +Heathens, so I’d settled to count ten +every time before I spoke, and then I’d +not be led into evil and profane discourse. +I got the idea out of a book I’d been +reading. Well, instead of liking it, +Father used to get dreadfully vexed; +the trouble was that he generally asked +me the question again before I got to +ten, and then I had to start counting all +over again, so it was quite a long time +sometimes before I could answer. I did +think it seemed rather silly myself, when +he’d only asked me something like, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_84">[84]</span>“Have you been out to-day?” because +it wasn’t likely that I should have replied +anything very dreadful. But in the +book it said that one can never tell, and +that habit is everything. I did wish +that Father hadn’t thought me muttering +and sulky.</p> + +<p>What I minded most, though, was the +way the others went on. They used to +stop up their ears whenever they saw me +coming and run away. It was dreadful. +Some days I’d forget to talk to them +about their sins, and then we’d be quite +happy, but I always fined myself afterwards. +I used to throw a farthing into +the pig-sty each time, because I thought +if I gave it to any one I’d get pleasure +out of it, so that oughtn’t to count; I +used to have fines for lots of other +wrong things too. Besides this, I’d +hit myself with whips and straps to +try and make me gooder, but it’s +very difficult to hurt oneself much. +It was a better mortification when I +wore Humphrey’s new jersey under all +my clothes, because, though it wasn’t +hairy, nor a shirt, it was very rough +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_85">[85]</span>and tight, but Fräulein discovered it +and was most cross.</p> + +<p>It was because I hated the others +always running away from me that I +took to writing about their wickedness +instead. I pretended that I was a dumb +missionary, and so it wasn’t my fault, +and I used to push little notes into their +pockets all in printing, so as to be easy +to read, but after the first they threw +them away without looking at them, so +it was no use at all. That’s what made +me take to writing things on the walls, +where they couldn’t help seeing them, +like in our room I put, “Don’t have the +cat in bed,” for Violet to read, because +Fräulein doesn’t like us to. In the +dining-room I put, “It’s horrible to +drink with your mouth full,” opposite +to where Humphrey sits. Instead of +being pleased, though, Fräulein got in +a rage again, and said I was spoiling the +wall-paper, and made me rub it all out. +It did seem difficult to do good.</p> + +<p>It was after this that I thought of +writing placards. It was all my own +idea, and didn’t hurt anything, and was +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_86">[86]</span>just as good as putting it on the wall. +I forgot to say that I hadn’t invented +that plan myself. I took it out of +<i>Belshazzar’s Feast</i>, and I do think they +must have made much worse marks than +I did, because in the piece of poetry we +learnt it says:</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="first"> “In that same hour and hall,</div> +<div class="indent">The fingers of a hand</div> +<div class="verse">Came forth against the wall,</div> +<div class="indent">And wrote as if on sand.”</div> +</div></div> + +<p>So it must have made great holes. I +suppose the plaster was wet. At any +rate, I thought that with the placards +no one could possibly grumble.</p> + +<p>I couldn’t have done the placards, of +course, if I hadn’t known just the sort +of naughty things that the Heathens +would do. So I wrote very big on +large sheets of paper, “DON’T,” and +then a whole heap of different wrong +things. I kept them all stuffed up the +front of my dress (it was rather loose, +because of my growing so fast, and that +was the only helping part I had). Then +when the others were naughty I got out +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_87">[87]</span>the right placard, for they were all put +like the alphabet, most beautifully, and +I waved it in front of them. They used +to get dreadfully cross, and Humph +tore a good many trying to snatch them +away, but I always wrote them again. +It <i>was</i> a good idea!</p> + +<p>It was out of the placards, though, that +all the trouble came; at least, it was +partly that and partly our not hearing +that Father had come home unexpectedly. +You see, it was after we’d gone to bed, +so we couldn’t possibly guess it of ourselves. +So the next morning, when I +heard the water running in the bathroom, +which is next door to the room +where Violet and I sleep, I thought of +course it must be Humphrey. Ted +doesn’t have baths in the morning +because of being croupy, and, as I said, +I didn’t know that Father was at home; +besides, he always gets up much later. +I’d been wanting to be awake when +Humph had his bath for a long while, +so I jumped up quickly, though it was +very cold, and put on my dressing-gown +and tore round to the bathroom +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_88">[88]</span>door. Then I pushed a new placard +under the crack, a very big one all +done in red ink. It said, “Dirty Pig, +scrub your toe-nails.”</p> + +<p>Well, I thought Humphrey might be +cross, but I didn’t expect what really +happened. There was a roar like a +lion, and the door was pulled back, +and there stood a perfectly strange +gentleman. He was in his shirt and +trousers; he was rather fat, and his +face was scarlet; he could hardly speak, +he was in such a rage.</p> + +<p>I was so astonished I couldn’t say +anything either. At last he did. He +shouted out, “<i>Unverschämtes Fraunzimmer</i>.” +He said a lot more too that +I didn’t quite understand, though it +was only in German. Then he suddenly +slammed the door in my face.</p> + +<p>Well, of course after that I didn’t +feel very comfortable. I went back to +my room and dressed myself, but my +legs were all going wiggle-waggle most +horridly, and I had a pain inside. I did +want Mother. I wanted her so that I +felt I must burst or something. I tried +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_89">[89]</span>the plan of thinking that when I was an +old, old woman I should have stopped +being unhappy about this horrid time, +but there wasn’t any comfort in that +like there generally is.</p> + +<p>We children had breakfast in the +schoolroom, because we always do when +there are visitors, but I felt so sick that +I could hardly eat any. And in the +middle it happened. Father dashed in, +just as I expected. He was dreadfully +angry. I don’t think I have ever seen +him so angry. He said that the German +gentleman was a most celebrated musician, +and even if I had heard any idiotic chatter +of the maids about his not attending to +his personal appearance, how dared I +take it on myself to give him moral +maxims worded in the most insulting +language? I didn’t exactly know what +Father meant by that, but it sounded +horrid. Also, he said that I stuck myself +up as being better than any one, +and that my conceit was perfectly insufferable. +After a lot more besides, +he ended up by telling me that I should +be sent to boarding school at once. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_90">[90]</span>Then he rushed out of the room +again.</p> + +<p>I hadn’t said anything all the time +Father was speaking, and I hadn’t cried +at all, because I wouldn’t let myself. +As soon as he’d gone I ran away to our +bedroom. I couldn’t hide in my secret +trouble place, because I didn’t feel that +I could ever bear to go into the bathroom +again. The worst of it was our +door doesn’t lock, for Humphrey lost +the key once when we were wicked +gaolers of the Tower, but I barricaded +it with chairs. Then, of course, I did +cry. I cried awfully until everything +got quite dizzy. I was still crying when +Humphrey climbed in at the window, +but I seemed too miserable to mind. +He was most nice though. He didn’t +talk, but he stroked my hand and +shoved his big peppermint into it, just +as if there hadn’t been any horrid missionarying. +Then, when I didn’t move, +he said, “Father won’t go on being +cwoss;” and I said, “I wish I were +dead.” So I did. It’s a horrid feeling +to have.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_91">[91]</span>All of a sudden Humph said, “Why +don’t you ’splain it was <i>my</i> dirty toe-nails?” +I just sobbed out, “I don’t +know.” It was very sensible, really, +what Humph said, but I was too unhappy +to see that; besides, I was thinking +more about the other things Father had +scolded me about. I said, “I don’t +think I’m better than other people, I +don’t, I don’t! I think I’m a beast, +and horrible.” Humph said, “No, +you’re not.” Then he wagged his +head, and went away.</p> + +<p>The part that comes next I didn’t +know at the time, of course, but Humph +told me about it afterwards. He <i>was</i> +nice; he can be most ’straordinarily +sensible sometimes, though you’d never +think it. He went straight to the +study where the German gentleman +was sitting, and said, “It was <i>my</i> toe-nails.”</p> + +<p>The German gentleman jumped up +very quickly, but Humph went on +telling him. He said, “You see, I +don’t scrub mine very much because +it tickles. My sister didn’t even know +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_92">[92]</span>about yours.” He talked in German, +because that’s one of the funny things +about Humph, he likes it. It was +lucky though, because we found out +afterwards it always pleased the German +gentleman to hear his own language. +Then Humph pulled off his shoes and +stockings to show his feet. It sounds a +naughty thing to do in the drawing-room, +but I don’t think it really was.</p> + +<p>The German gentleman looked very +astonished, but he didn’t look cross, +Humphrey told me. At last he said, +“<i>So</i>; but why was it written out and +pushed under the door like that?”</p> + +<p>“Because I stop up my ears and +won’t listen when she speaks to me,” +Humph explained. He went on and +told the German gentleman all about +the missionarying, and the gentleman +seemed very interested. Then at the +end Humph said, “But my sister is +starving; she didn’t eat hardly nothing +for bweakfast, and no biscuits at eleven, +and she won’t even suck my peppermint. +I think she’ll soon be dead and it’ll be +you that’s done it.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_93">[93]</span>When the German gentleman heard +that he was very nice, Humph said. Of +course he must have known that people +can live longer than that without food +on desert islands and places, though +Humph was really frightened about it. +He took hold of Humph’s hand and +said, “<i>Ach!</i> then we must go quickly +and ask that the little sister may be forgiven.” +I believe he liked boys better +than girls anyway, which does seem +funny.</p> + +<p>The first thing I knew of all this, +though, was Father coming up to my +room. He said in quite a different +way, “Cheer up, Molly, I hear it was +only a mistake. You must be more +discreet in your sisterly admonitions +though.” It made me feel much +better. I went down and told the +German gentleman that I was sorry I’d +seemed rude. He was all right, but +things weren’t really comfortable until +he and Father went away again the +next day.</p> + +<p>I didn’t do any more missionarying +after that though; it seemed to be too +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_94">[94]</span>dangerous. It was a comfort to stop. +Besides, the next week I got a letter +from Mother, explaining that the +clergyman couldn’t have meant it like +that at all, because the chief thing if you +want to have a good influence over +people is that they should be fond of +you, so a plan that prevents that must +be a mistake. She said, too, that +people didn’t generally have a good +influence unless it was unconscious, so +my best way was just to leave the +others alone and try and be good +myself. But she said I needn’t worry +too much even over that (she seemed +to guess all about my finings and +hittings though I’d never told her). +She said if I just loved people and tried +to make them happy, I’d find in the end +that I had been good. At the bottom +of the letter, just before the kisses, there +was a bit that surprised me very much. +It was lovely; I don’t much like to say +it. Mother said that I’d always been +a good influence and a help to her, even +though I hadn’t tried to be a missionary. +She said that once when she was speaking +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_95">[95]</span>to Teddy about telling stories (he does +sometimes, you see, because he’s so +little), she said to him that heroes never +told untruths, and he answered at once +and very proudly, “Nor does Molly, +either.”</p> + +<p>It did make me feel funny inside.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_96">[96]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">VI<br> +<small>A FIRST NIGHT</small></h2> +<p class="center">(Reprinted from <i>Little Folks</i> by kind permission)</p> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap">I ’LL never do any more plays, never. +It would be all very well if one +could act all the parts oneself, but +making the others learn theirs was +awful. Besides, you wouldn’t believe +that the Corpse could give so much +trouble.</p> + +<p>We got it up while Mother was still +away in Algiers, and that was the first +mistake. But we’d often had acting +games before, and I never thought that +this would be so much harder. The +idea of doing it came into my head +one day at lesson time, and it seemed +perfectly splendid, so I pinched +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_97">[97]</span>Humphrey directly, and whispered, +“We are going to act a real play with +refreshments and a curtain. I shall +write it.”</p> + +<p>I was rather disappointed that +Humphrey didn’t answer, but after a +long time he suddenly said quite loud, +“Like Shakespeare.” Fortunately, +Fräulein didn’t understand. It was +rather silly of him too, because of +course I didn’t mean to make it long +like that. Why, Humph has taken six +months to learn “The Charge of the +Light Brigade,” and he still says, “Half +a leg, half a leg, half a leg onwards”; +besides, I knew that Violet and Ted +would like to come in too.</p> + +<p>That afternoon I began to write the +play. I tried at first to make it all up +out of my own head, only when I sat +down nothing seemed to come. So +I thought I’d adapt it out of a +book, like Father says all the best +plays are done nowadays. I took +Aytoun’s “<i>Lays of the Scottish Cavaliers</i>.” +I’m very fond of them, you see, +and I know them nearly all by heart, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_98">[98]</span>but I don’t believe it was me that +loosened the frontispiece as Fräulein says, +just because I took the book to bed +one evening. Not that we read in bed, +because Mother’s very particular about +that, but I like to feel that Dundee and +the Young Pretender are near me all +the night. It was the “<i>Burial March +of Dundee</i>” that I thought would be +the best for the play, but it didn’t seem +to need much adapting, because we could +just have a bier with Ted as Dundee +(he’s the lightest, and his hair is curly). +We three would march on bearing it, +and I’d recite the lay; then we’d march +off again of course.</p> + +<p>So, as this was easy, I thought we’d +have another play as well, and I settled +on “<i>Young Lochinvar</i>.” Humphrey +would be Lochinvar; I should have +liked to be the bride, who is the heroine, +of course, but then I settled it would be +better if Violet was, partly because I +thought Mother would have been +pleased at my not being selfish, and +partly because it looks so silly to see the +lady taller than the gentleman, like +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_99">[99]</span>when Cousin Sophy was married. Then +I and Ted would be the wicked mother +and father. Of course, he’s heaps +smaller than me, but that didn’t matter +because we’d both be old, and he might +have shrunk quicker. Our old nurse +told us once that she’d got to the time +of life when she was growing downwards +like a cow’s tail; and certainly, when +she came to see us the other day, she did +seem a lot shorter than she used to be +when we were little and she lived with us.</p> + +<p>The others were all very pleased with +their parts, and it was settled that the +acting should be on April the 10th, +which is Ted’s birthday, and Fräulein +asked some children to come to tea. It +didn’t leave us very much time, but I +thought it would do, because I never +guessed how slow Humphrey would be. +At each rehearsal he seemed to get +worse, and the dress one was awful.</p> + +<p>To begin with, we left it to the very +afternoon of the birthday because the +others said that when the children came, +we could go straight on and needn’t +dress up twice. Only it made me feel +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_100">[100]</span>nervous, and then, just as we were +starting, cook sent up word that she +was bothered enough with extra to tea +and couldn’t let us have anything for +the banquet in “<i>Young Lochinvar</i>.” It +was really because there’d been a fuss +about the butcher’s bill; as if we could +help that!</p> + +<p>The others were very good, I must +say, and Humphrey said that he’d give +us a Brazil nut that he’d got, and lend +us his peppermint. It’s a most enormous +one, that goes different colours as +you suck, and he keeps it for when he’s +put in the corner. And Violet said +she’d put some of her doll’s sham dishes +on the table; still, that wasn’t very +much for a wedding feast. So I said +perhaps we’d better pretend that they +had had the feast before the curtain +drew up, and there could be just a goblet +of water for Young Lochinvar to quaff.</p> + +<p>“He couldn’t have been very thirsty +when he had just ‘swum the Esk river,’ +and he would enjoy the peppermint +because——” Humphrey began, but I +told him quickly that we wouldn’t have +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_101">[101]</span>any eating or drinking at all, for when +he once begins explaining anything he +never stops. Besides, it was only +because he remembered that he was to +be Young Lochinvar himself.</p> + +<p>So we began to dress up, and when +they were all ready, they looked so nice +and real that I began to feel happier. +Humphrey had on my white flannel +pyjamas with a red sash, like we always +have for the hero; they’re rather big for +him, but he wears nightshirts himself, for +though he isn’t very strong, he never +catches cold, and of course you couldn’t +be a hero in a nightshirt. The worst +of it was that it looked rather bare at +the back, because the hero always has +Mother’s fur-lined cape, inside out, +across his shoulders and we hadn’t got +that, nor Mother either, so we began to +feel rather miserable. Even Father was +not there. He had gone out to Mother +for the Easter Holidays.</p> + +<p>Violet had on the lace window-curtains +and Mother’s old blue silk dress that +she has given us for dressing-up, and +Teddy wore his pyjamas with a green +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_102">[102]</span>sash, of course, because he was the +villain; at least, he wasn’t exactly a +villain, but he was a very disagreeable and +horrid sort of father for any one to +have. He had on a tow beard, too, +that I made out of some that was over +when Fräulein did the grates, and I’m +sure Mother won’t like them, though +Fräulein does think them so beautiful, +but the beard wasn’t a great success +because it would come off in the middle.</p> + +<p>As for me, we didn’t know what to +do, because I’d tied on so many pillows +to be fat, that I knew I couldn’t get on +any one’s dress but cook’s. So we sent +Teddy down to ask her if she would be +so very kind as to lend us one. We +always make Teddy ask for things, +because he’s pretty, and we’ve found out +that helps. I think cook thought he +wanted the dress for himself, for he said +she laughed a lot, but anyway she fetched +him her best one—green stuff, it was, +with red plush trimming.</p> + +<p>Then we began. It was awful. Ted +gabbled so that no one could hear him, +and Humphrey had never known his +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_103">[103]</span>part properly, though I used to run into +his room every night after Fräulein had +put out the lights and make him go +through it. He couldn’t escape me +then, but often he was asleep, which +was just as bad, because even if you +woke him up it was no use—he’d be +so stupid. Well, Humphrey seemed to +have forgotten everything he’d ever +known, and the more I went on the +more he forgot until he began to say +the “Charge of the Light Brigade” by +mistake; at last he turned sulky and +wouldn’t speak at all.</p> + +<p>Violet knew her part beautifully—I +will say that—and she spoke it very +clearly and slowly, but without the least +bit of expression. When she came to—</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="first">“With thee I will wander the wide world far,</div> +<div class="verse">For I love thee, dear Mr. Young Lochinvar,”</div> +</div></div> + +<p>which was a piece that I’d made up +myself, you might have thought she +was saying the multiplication table.</p> + +<p>“Can’t you speak it like you really +would to any one?” I said.</p> + +<p>“I’d never say such a silly thing,” +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_104">[104]</span>she answered, “because trains always +make me sick and you know Mother +says I’d be a dreadful sailor.”</p> + +<p>Well, I told her at any rate she ought +to take Young Lochinvar into a corner +and throw her arms round his neck and +kiss him, so that the people could tell +she was pleased to see him; and she did +it, because she’s very obedient, but it +was just as if she were hugging a signpost.</p> + +<p>So I said she was a perfect idiot, +which I oughtn’t to have done, however +silly she was, and she began to cry.</p> + +<p>Well, I thought we’d better get on to +“Dundee.” It begins—</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="first">“Sound the fife and cry the slogan,</div> +<div class="indent">Let the pibroch shake the air</div> +<div class="verse">With its wild, triumphal music,</div> +<div class="indent">Worthy of the freight we bear.”</div> +</div></div> + +<p>We didn’t know exactly what pibrochs +and all those things were, but we thought +some Burmese gongs and bells of Father’s +would do as well, and we’d brought +them up out of the case in the drawing-room.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_105">[105]</span>But when I came to look on the +mantelpiece, where I’d put them all +ready, they were gone.</p> + +<p>Then Violet, who was still crying, +of course, because she’d been started +off, sobbed out that Fräulein had taken +the things back and had locked up the +case and was very angry. They don’t +belong to Fräulein anyway, so I don’t +see what business it was of hers. But +there we were in a nice fix.</p> + +<p>Humphrey said at last that he would +blow his penny whistle. He hasn’t +got any ear at all, and the noise he +makes is more like a railway engine +than anything else; however, I had to +say Yes. Then Teddy suggested that +if we covered up his face he could +do “Nearer, my God, to Thee” on +the comb. Teddy’s the most musical +of us all, but I didn’t think it would +do, because even if the audience didn’t +notice that he was playing his own +funeral march, the comb doesn’t seem +to be quite right somehow. I said we’d +better tie the dinner-bell round Violet’s +waist instead, and she could shake herself +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_106">[106]</span>now and then. Of course she had to +hold up the bier with both her hands, +so she couldn’t do anything else.</p> + +<p>We made the bier out of stilts with a +long cushion tied between them, and +then I thought we were ready. So we +lifted it up and Teddy climbed on to +the window-sill and got on to the bier +from there. He lay down and immediately +the strings broke and he went +on to the floor—crash! He shrieked +and roared and he wouldn’t stop, though +I tried to put my arms round him, +because he had come a horrid bang, and +I promised him my old penknife with +half a blade. He thought we’d done it +on purpose, so he’d only scream out, +“Go away! I won’t act—I won’t! +You beast, beast, beast!”</p> + +<p>At this moment the door opened and +we saw—Mother! We all gave one +shout and rushed at her. Ted began +to squeal with joy instead of screaming, +and Violet stopped whimpering, and +Humphrey started off talking quite +fast. As for me—well, it was dreadfully +silly and babyish—but now they’d +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_107">[107]</span>all stopped I began to cry. I was so +happy it seemed as if I couldn’t bear +it.</p> + +<p>Mother understood, like she always +does. She didn’t say anything, but put +her arm round me tight and let me hide +my face in her cape. The others all +started talking at once, and she kissed +the lump on Teddy’s head and made it +well and said she’d do the bier herself, +so it would be quite safe. She sent +Humphrey down for her fur cape for +Young Lochinvar, and she told us Fräulein +was quite right about our not taking +the musical instruments without leave, +but she was sure Father would let us +have them. And she said—but this +was when I was all right again—that it +wouldn’t matter if Violet couldn’t quite +get the expression, because brides were +always shy and that when she was +married to Father her voice sounded like +some one else talking and without any +expression at all. And then she admired +all our dresses very much and went +downstairs to ask cook to let us have +things for the feast and a bottle of red +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_108">[108]</span>currant wine, which was more grandeur +than we’d ever thought of.</p> + +<p>After that everything was different, +like it always is when Mother’s at home. +Oh, I forgot to explain that why we +didn’t expect Mother was that Fräulein +had never got the last letter. Besides, +Mother rather wanted to surprise us.</p> + +<p>By this time the other children were +arriving downstairs, and so we started +the acting as soon as we were ready. +Well, you wouldn’t have thought it +after all this fuss, but the plays went +beautifully; every one said so. Certainly +once Teddy opened his eyes as +dead Dundee, and when he saw that +Mother was really sitting there he began +to laugh, but he’s got such a nice laugh +one couldn’t mind much. Mother +shook her head, though she couldn’t +help smiling, so Ted shut up his eyes +tight and screwed up his face all the +rest of the time as though he were +going to sneeze. Humphrey, too, in the +wedding feast stuffed his mouth so full +that he couldn’t speak, but Mother began +to clap, so the people didn’t notice that.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_109">[109]</span>At the end everybody clapped lots +and we all came forward and bowed—at +least Teddy curtseyed by mistake—and +then Mother called out, “Author. +Author and Stage-manager!” and the +others pushed me on alone. I did feel +proud.</p> + +<p>All the same, I don’t think I’ll ever +do any more plays—at any rate not +unless Mother is at home all the time, +and of that I’m quite certain.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_110">[110]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">VII<br> +<small>MOTHER</small></h2> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap">IT really did seem silly of Humphrey +not to have measles with the rest +of us and then to go and catch them +all to himself directly Mother came +home from Algiers. It’s just the sort +of inconvenient thing that Humph +would do—not that he can help it, of +course. I’m sure it wasn’t any fun for +him having it alone.</p> + +<p>I must say our measly month last +year was most lovely; Violet and Ted +liked it just as much as me. Besides +having Mother all the time, there was +beef-tea nearly whenever you wanted it +and the most exciting counting every +morning to see who had got the most +spots. The spottiest one was king or +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_111">[111]</span>queen for the day, of course, and the +others had to say “your Majesty” and +bow whenever they spoke. It did seem +grand.</p> + +<p>This must have been the most aggravating +thing for Humphrey to think of +afterwards, because when he did go and +catch it, he was so very bad that if he’d +only had it at the same time as us he’d +have easily been king every day. He +was so ill that Mother sent the little +ones away into lodgings with Jane, for +they make too much noise; and as Mrs. +Charlton happened to ask me to stay +with her just then, Mother thought I +might as well go away too. I expect +I ought to say honestly that Mother had +spoken to <i>me</i> about making a noise as +well as to the little ones. It seemed as +if I couldn’t remember about not stumping +upstairs. Once I did think of it, +and I took off my stockings as well as +my shoes, so as to be very quiet, and +went most ’straordinarily slowly, but +then the horrid shoes went and spoilt +it all; they dropped down right from +the very top.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_112">[112]</span>Mrs. Charlton is a sort of aunt of +Father’s and she lives up in Lincolnshire. +I didn’t know her at all, though Mother +said I had seen her once when I was a +baby, which is never a very nice sort of +friendship. People like that always tell +you how they held you in their arms, +which makes you feel silly; or else, if +you were too big to nurse, they say how +naughty you used to be. It’s most +uncomfortable. Anyway Mother said +that Mrs. Charlton was a very kind old +lady, though not cuddly; she said, too, +that as I was going on a visit all alone +like a grown-up young lady I must try +and be very good. So I promised, and +even though it mayn’t sound like it +afterwards, I really did try.</p> + +<p>There was some talk of Father’s +taking me all the way, but he was too +busy, and it ended in my going to +London with him and then travelling +the rest of the way quite alone! At +least Father did put me in the care of +the guard; I do wish he hadn’t, though +the guard was a very nice man. He +poked in his head at nearly every station +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_113">[113]</span>and said, “Getting on all right, missy?” +and I said, “Yes, thank you; I hope +you are too.” Then he waved his flag +and we went on again.</p> + +<p>It had been directly after lunch when +we left London, but it was getting quite +dark before we got to Corby. I was +most dreadfully starved too, because +I’d eaten all my sandwiches very early. +I thought I’d waited quite a long time +before I began them, but it wasn’t really. +That’s a funny thing about sandwiches, +something seems to make you eat them +almost directly you start, even if you’ve +only just had dinner, and aren’t very +hungry at all.</p> + +<p>It was the guard who came and helped +me out with my things at Corby station, +but almost directly a manservant came +up and touched his hat and said, “Miss +Lawrence?” I did feel beautifully +grown up. There was a carriage waiting +outside with a very fat coachman +and two very fat horses; the man took +me to this and held the door open +for me to get in. If only the others +had been with me to see me driving +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_114">[114]</span>all alone in a grand carriage like +that!</p> + +<p>Though it was very nice for the +first minute or two, I was so dreadfully +hungry that I couldn’t really enjoy it; +I could only think of roast chickens +and things like that. I did try not to; +I looked out of the window to see the +country and I tied my sash very tight +like the Red Indians, but it wasn’t any +use. It isn’t true either, what they +say in books, that starving people suffer +most from thirst, because I hardly wanted +to drink at all. At last, though, we +did get to the house, and the servant +showed me into the drawing-room, +where Mrs. Charlton was sitting in a +very stiff chair. She got up and kissed +me, and asked me how my Mother and +Father were, but she didn’t seem to +make me feel at all nice. I sat down +in another stiff chair and seemed to get +miserabler and miserabler, I don’t know +why, because they had brought me my +supper, though I’d have liked more. I +was quite glad when Mrs. Charlton +asked me at what hour I went to bed, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_115">[115]</span>which was very funny, because I’d never +wanted people to talk about bedtime +before.</p> + +<p>Upstairs, though, it was more miserable +than ever. I never thought paying +visits would feel like that. If even our +cook at home could have come to tuck +me up in her crossest temper, I’d have +been glad. It seemed so dreadful, I +really didn’t know what I should do, +till I thought of Mother’s little penwiper, +that she’d lent me because I +haven’t got one in my writing-case; so +I took that into bed, and cuddled it, and +then I felt better.</p> + +<p>The next morning I woke up very +early and the sun was shining and it +was all much nicer. I began to read a +book I’d brought from home that was +called “<i>Vanity Fair</i>”; it is an interesting +book, but rather muddly, and the girl +in it, Amelia, is a gump. That’s what +Humphrey and I call people who are +silly like that. I’d read quite a lot by +the time the breakfast bell rang and I +took it down to go on with afterwards.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Charlton was sitting in an armchair +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_116">[116]</span>at the head of the table, and all +the servants were there for prayers. +They seemed to be all waiting for me. +Just as if this wasn’t bad enough, the +minute I got in Mrs. Charlton called +out, “What is that book that you have +got in your hand?”</p> + +<p>Well, when I showed it to her she +seemed quite cross. She said, “Has +your Mother given you permission to +read this?” in the most severe way. I +said “Yes,” because Mother had never +told us we mayn’t read anything. Then I +thought that as Mother hadn’t mentioned +this particular book, perhaps that wasn’t +true, so I said “No.” Then I remembered +Mother had said once that we +might always take magazines, and this +was on that shelf, so I said “Yes,” +again. I said, “It’s got paper covers, +you see.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t prevaricate, child,” Mrs. +Charlton said, “I’m sorry to see you +are not more straightforward.” She +went and locked up my book, which I +did think a shame, and the prayers +began. It was horrid her thinking I +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_117">[117]</span>told stories, and very silly, just when I +was trying to be so partic’larly truthful.</p> + +<p>After breakfast we went for a walk in +the village; and that wasn’t bad, only +another unpleasant thing happened first. +I don’t think I said that when I got up, +I tied Mother’s penwiper round my +neck with a bootlace, because that made +me feel nice. Well, when we were +starting to go out Mrs. Charlton suddenly +said, “What is that untidy piece +of black tape showing above your +dress?”</p> + +<p>I pretended not to hear. I didn’t +know what else to do, because of +course I couldn’t tell her about private +things like that. She asked me again, +but I still didn’t say anything. Then +she shook her head and said, “Sullen, +sullen,” to herself, though I was just +going away to take the penwiper off so +as to please her. At least I didn’t take +it right off, I tied it round my waist +instead, where the bootlace couldn’t +show, only it was very prickly. It wasn’t +my fault keeping Mrs. Charlton waiting +either, for I had to quite undress to do +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_118">[118]</span>it. I forgot to say that it was a very nice +penwiper, that I’d made for Mother as a +birthday present, when I was quite little. +It had “Mother” worked on it in beads, +and the date and how old she was; at +least I’d made a mistake about the last +and put seventy-eight. You see, Father +used to tell us that was Mother’s age for +a joke, and we really believed it. Of +course I was only a little girl then.</p> + +<p>The village wasn’t far away, and when +we came back, I played in the garden. +There wasn’t much to do and so I +climbed a tree. Almost directly Mrs. +Charlton came tearing out in a great +fuss and said that it was most dangerous +and unladylike and that I was never to +do such a thing again. I felt very cross, +because really it was a silly little tree +that a baby could climb, but I remembered +what I promised Mother, so I just +walked about in a stupid, grown-up way +and wondered if lunch-time was ever +coming.</p> + +<p>In the afternoon it was worse, because +it began to rain. Mrs. Charlton and I +sat in the drawing-room and did nothing. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_119">[119]</span>There was a Persian cat, who you would +think would have been some comfort, +but he was the stupidest cat I ever saw. +He just slept the whole time. Mrs. +Charlton asked me then if I hadn’t got +any needlework, so I went and fetched +the mat that I’m working for Cousin +Sophy’s wedding present. (It will be +rather late, because Cousin Sophy went +and got married about a year ago, before +I could get it done; I do think she +needn’t have been in such a hurry.) I +sat there and sewed for ages and ages +until I thought my head would drop +off; at last I found I’d forgotten to +bring the skein of the silk, and I +couldn’t do any more. That was nice.</p> + +<p>Tea came just then, real afternoon tea, +with thin bread and butter and two very +nice little scone things on a separate +plate and a little jug of cream, that I’m +partic’larly fond of. Well, I tried not +to be greedy, but I couldn’t help being +rather pleased, when suddenly Mrs. +Charlton said, “Pussy is so fond of +cream, I know you won’t mind his +having it,” and she crumbled up both +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_120">[120]</span>the little scones and poured all the cream +over them, every drop. Then she asked +me to put it down on the floor in the +corner.</p> + +<p>After tea Mrs. Charlton asked me +if I’d like to read a little, because she +said she’d look out a nice suitable book +for me. I was very pleased, even +though I found it was a book with a +shiny red cover and green leaves on it, +which sort generally aren’t interesting. +It was called “<i>How Little Susan Saved +the Home</i>,” and it was all about poor +people.</p> + +<p>It wasn’t a bad sort of book, though +it was written rather as if you had got +no sense at all. It was about a little +girl who used to wait outside the public-house +every night to come home with +her father. I don’t see that that was so +horrid for her. When we were in +London, the Punch and Judy shows +were almost always at public-house +corners, and once we saw a dear fat dog +in a patchwork coat and the darlingest +white mice on his back, but Cousin +Sophy would never let us stop. Of +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_121">[121]</span>course on wet nights it can’t have been +such fun for Little Susan, but I dare say +they’d have let her wait inside, only she +seemed to be too silly to ask. In the +middle of the book there was a very +horrible bit, about the father getting +tipsy and kind of mad, but he got all +right at the end. It was in such big +print I soon finished it, because I read +very quickly.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Charlton had gone off to sleep, +so I didn’t know what to do. I looked +at the bookcase, but it was locked, so I +walked round the room, and there in the +back drawing-room, rather high up, was +a shelf with some old-looking books on +it. I went up to Mrs. Charlton to ask +her if I might take one, but she was still +asleep. Well, I didn’t really think she’d +mind, because they were so shabby, so I +climbed up on a chair and chose one +called “<i>Peregrine Pickle</i>”; I thought +from the name it might be about a boy +who got into scrapes. It was rather disappointing +inside, and the s’s were funny +and difficult to read, but bits were interesting. +It was written in a nice way +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_122">[122]</span>too, not sillily like “<i>Little Susan</i>,” and +there weren’t any horrid parts in it either.</p> + +<p>Suddenly, as I was reading, the book +was snatched out of my hand. Mrs. +Charlton was standing there looking +furious. “How dare you take that +book, you wicked girl!” she said; “go +to your room and pray for a better +nature.” I told her that I only took it +because I’d finished the one that she +gave me, and I didn’t know what to do +till she woke, but she didn’t seem to +believe me; it did seem curious and +horrid.</p> + +<p>I went upstairs as she told me, and it +was so dull that I said the multiplication +table three times forwards and once backwards, +and before that I’d repeated +nearly all the poetry I knew, besides +trying to reckon out how much the +horse’s shoe would cost if you paid a +farthing for the first nail and doubled it +for each one. Of course I pretended I +was in the Bastille all the time, but there +weren’t any rats or toads or anything +nice, and I was quite glad even to see +the housemaid. It wasn’t the real housemaid +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_123">[123]</span>either, because she was old, and +disagreeable; this was one I hadn’t seen +before. She brought me some bread +and milk for my supper.</p> + +<p>“I dare say you’re missing your little +brothers and sisters,” she said.</p> + +<p>I hadn’t thought of it before, but +directly she said it, I knew that that was +why I was so miserable. I seemed suddenly +to want Mother and them all so +dreadfully, that I could hardly help +crying. Lizzie (the servant told me +that was her name, and that she was +the hupandowngirl, not the housemaid), +well, she was most nice; she seemed +the nicest person in the house. She +said she used to cry herself to sleep +every night when she first went out to +service. She told me about her home +too, and that there were twelve of them, +and that they used to sleep four in one +bed, and lovely things like that. She +was just telling me about her pigs, when +the bell rang rather angrily.</p> + +<p>“Lor, I must be off, the Missus will +be in a fine taking,” Lizzie said, and she +ran away.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_124">[124]</span>When Lizzie had gone, I was just +going to be miserable, but suddenly +she rushed in again, and threw a lot of +newspaper things on to the bed. “I +thought maybe they’d amuse you, but +don’t let the Missus see ’em,” she said, +and she tore out, because the bell was +ringing more crossly than ever.</p> + +<p>I certainly did know that I oughtn’t to +read books when I’d been sent upstairs +in disgrace, and I’d better confess that +at once. But then it didn’t feel to me +that I’d done anything to be punished +for, and it did seem so tempting. First +I thought I’d just look at the pictures—for +there was one on each cover—of +gentlemen shooting each other and +ladies in their dressing-gowns, with their +hair down, and things like that, all most +exciting. So I began just to turn over +the leaves to see the names of the people +in the pictures, but before I knew what +I was doing I was reading one story +straight through. I truthfully forgot +then about it’s being naughty.</p> + +<p>It was a very interesting story, all +about lords and dukes; I had never read +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_125">[125]</span>one like it before. They were most +funny people, and always getting fond +of quite strangers and wanting to fly +with them. I was just in the middle, +when suddenly I heard the door open. +Before I could think, I’d pushed all the +papers under the eiderdown. That was +the part Mother minded most when I +told her, because it seemed mean. I’ve +tried to think since that I did it because +Lizzie had asked me not to let any one +see the papers, but it wasn’t that really, +at least not mostly. Besides, what +Mother said was that if I had put away +the novelettes at the beginning without +looking at them, and then have given +them back to Lizzie at the first opportunity, +that would have saved her getting +into trouble just the same, and I +should not have been mean.</p> + +<p>Well, I suppose when Mrs. Charlton +came in I looked rather uncomfortable; +also there may have been a bit of one of +the papers sticking out. Anyway, the +first thing she did was to lift up the +eiderdown. Then of course she saw +them all. I felt awful.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_126">[126]</span>No one said anything for what +seemed a long time, and then Mrs. +Charlton made a horrid noise in her +throat and began: “You are so utterly +deceitful,” she said, “that it is not of +very much use to put questions to you, +but I should be glad if you would kindly +inform me where you procured this degrading +form of literature.”</p> + +<p>I didn’t answer. That wasn’t naughtiness, +but because of Lizzie. Mrs. +Charlton asked me again, and she asked +me other questions of the same sort, but +of course I couldn’t answer them either. +She got angrier and angrier. At last +she said, “I shall send you home immediately. +I cannot have my household +corrupted by your low tastes and deceitfulness.”</p> + +<p>That was the first nice thing she had +said since I had been there. Of course +I didn’t altogether like it, because it +seemed horrid to be sent home in disgrace; +besides, my coming back would +be a worry for them, when Humph was +so ill. But I was so happy at the idea +of seeing Mother again that I couldn’t +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_127">[127]</span>really think of anything else. I could +hardly help jumping, I was so happy. +I said, “Please, shall I put on my coat +and hat at once?”</p> + +<p>I’m sure I said it most politely, but +Mrs. Charlton replied “No” most +angrily. She said, “You may certainly +rest assured that I do not wish to keep +you a moment longer than I am compelled, +but I am afraid that it would +be impossible for me to arrange for +your return to-night.” Then she went +away.</p> + +<p>After she had gone I thought a lot. +First of all I packed my box, so as to be +ready the first thing in the morning. +Then I suddenly thought, Why couldn’t +I arrange my journey home all alone, so +as not to bother Mrs. Charlton? Then +I could start off directly? I rushed to +the window to see if it had stopped raining, +and it had.</p> + +<p>When I began to plan it out it seemed +to get easier and easier. It was only +three and a half miles to the station, and +along the big road with milestones and +telegraph posts all the way. I knew, because, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_128">[128]</span>besides driving up the day before, +we’d gone along a bit of the road to the +village that morning. I’d got my return +ticket to King’s Cross in my purse, +and once that I got there I’d just take a +cab to Waterloo, and then I could get +home quite well. I know all about the +trains from there, you see, because I’ve +been lots of times. I’d got plenty of +money, because there was the half-crown +that Mother gave me before I came +away (I had sewed it into my clothes, of +course, like people do for travelling). +Then I’d got a shilling and a farthing +from my pocket-money, and a sixpence +with a hole in it; I knew that with all +that I could manage quite well. The +only bother was about my box: I +couldn’t carry it, of course; it <i>was</i> +puzzling. I thought, though, I might +tell them at the station to call for it the +next day, and let it go by itself, like we +sometimes do at home. I wrote the +address on the label in printing very +neatly.</p> + +<p>I thought then that I’d start off, +though I did feel a little uncomfortable +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_129">[129]</span>as to whether Mother would mind. +She certainly doesn’t like me to go out +alone, but sometimes I have been sent on +a message. Of course it was getting +rather late, but I thought if I ran I +could get to Corby, where the station is, +before it got quite dark. Besides, I +knew Mother wouldn’t wish me to stop +when Mrs. Charlton didn’t want me; I +heard her say once herself that visitors +should never outstay their welcome. +The chiefest thing, though, was that I +felt I just couldn’t go a whole night +more without seeing Mother.</p> + +<p>The worst part to think of was the +going downstairs. My heart was +thumping dreadfully by the time I had +got on my coat and hat. Oh, first I +pinned a little note on to the pincushion +to say that I’d gone. It was most useful +that I’d read Lizzie’s book, because +that is what Lady Vera did before she +flew with the Duke; I mightn’t ever +have thought of it by myself. I forgot +to say that I’d tied up all the magazines +in a piece of brown paper and addressed +them to “Miss Lizzie Hupandowngirl, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_130">[130]</span>thankyou.” I had to put just that because +I didn’t know her other name.</p> + +<p>It was perfectly awful—the going +down I mean. The stairs seemed to +creak just as if they were doing it on +purpose. Every minute I thought +some one would come. No one did, +though. I expect Mrs. Charlton was +having her late dinner; anyway, there +was nobody about. I crept across the +hall and opened the front door. The +squeak it made was dreadful. I stood +there for a minute feeling quite sick and +funny, but still no one came. So I went +out and shut the door behind me as +softly as I could. Then I ran and +ran.</p> + +<p>Of course I couldn’t run all the way +to Corby; I had to go slower pretty +soon. I kept running little bits now +and then, but it seemed a dreadfully +long way. I was so afraid that some +one Mrs. Charlton knew would see me +and perhaps send me back, but though +the people I met looked at me in rather +a surprised way, they didn’t speak. I +hid behind the hedge, too, until they’d +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_131">[131]</span>passed, when I heard them coming in +time.</p> + +<p>It was getting quite dark for the last +part of the way, and the lamps were all +lit at Corby. I couldn’t remember the +turning to the station, but I asked a +little boy. They speak so funnily up +there that I didn’t understand what +he said, but he pointed out the way +all right.</p> + +<p>There was only one porter person at +the station, and I was rather glad of +that. He seemed rather stupid, but +when I’d asked him two or three times, +he said there was a train to King’s Cross +at 8.52. That was very lucky, because +it was already a quarter past eight. +The porter asked me if I had got any +luggage, but I said, “No, you are to +fetch that to-morrow.” I didn’t think +until afterwards that I hadn’t told him +the address.</p> + +<p>When the train came it was very full, +because there had been an excursion or +something. I found one compartment +that wasn’t quite so full, and I got in. +A gentleman said, “Come on, there’s +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_132">[132]</span>room for a little ’un,” and another said, +“The more the merrier.” They certainly +were very merry, for they were +singing songs the whole time, and fighting, +but all in fun. I didn’t know +grown-up people played like that.</p> + +<p>There was a very fat lady sitting +opposite me, and she began to talk. +She said suddenly in rather a strict way, +“Where’s your Ma, my dear?” and I +said, “At home.”</p> + +<p>After a minute or two she started +again. She said, “Ain’t your Ma +well?”</p> + +<p>I said, “Yes, it’s Humph who is ill.” +Then she asked me some more about +him, and I told her.</p> + +<p>I thought she’d stopped, and I quite +jumped when she said very crossly, “I +suppose your Pa won’t leave ’is smoke. +Puff an’ pull the whole day long, that’s +the way with all these men. Pigs, I +calls ’em!”</p> + +<p>I didn’t exactly understand. I said, +“Father doesn’t smoke the whole day, +but he is very fond of it. He likes to +have his pipe if he can.” I found out +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_133">[133]</span>afterwards that she thought I meant that +Father was in a smoking compartment +of the same train; I’m sure I don’t +know why. I’d got so sleepy, though, +that I didn’t seem to be able to explain +anything or think properly at all.</p> + +<p>There was a funny little thin man +sitting next to the fat lady, who looked +as if he’d got there by mistake. He +was like a white rabbit with a cold in its +head. Suddenly the fat lady said, +“Jeremiah, change places this minute +with the young lady,” and he jumped up +in quite a frightened way. Then she +said to me much more nicely, “You +come an’ set ’ere, my dear, then you’ll +be able to lean up aginst me an’ rest +yourself more comfortable like.”</p> + +<p>I was so sleepy that I could hardly +stand. It was most peculiar. So the +fat lady pulled me up and put my head +on her lap, just as if I were a baby; I +didn’t seem to mind at all. I was rather +ashamed when I thought about it afterwards, +but Mother says it didn’t matter, +and that the fat lady was most kind. I +think so, too, though her lap was rather +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_134">[134]</span>steep to be very comfortable. All the +same, I must have gone off to sleep +almost directly.</p> + +<p>The next thing I remember was being +lifted up. The fat lady and the little +white-rabbit gentleman were bustling +about getting down their things, and the +train was stopping. “No, this ain’t +King’s Cross, my dear,” she said, “but +we ain’t far off, so you jist pop on your +’at. We gets out ’ere, but I suppose your +Pa will come for you at the next station. +I’d like to give my fine gentleman a +piece of my mind,” she went on to the +little rabbit man, “leaving that pore +child in ’ere an’ never so much as taking +the trouble to clap ’is eyes upon ’er the +’ole blessed way.”</p> + +<p>I was so astonished altogether, I could +hardly speak. You see, for the first +minute or two I couldn’t remember +where I was. So I just said, “Thank +you very much, thank you,” a good +many times over. The fat lady bent +down and kissed me, and said, “There’s +a good little girl.” And, do you know, +when her face was close, it looked for a +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_135">[135]</span>minute like Mother’s. It was most astonishing, +because she was so red and +funny.</p> + +<p>I got quite awake getting my hat +down from the rack, and almost directly +after we arrived at King’s Cross. There +was a great rush and bustle, and only +one or two cabs, so it’s lucky the other +excursion people didn’t all want them; +every one seemed to be walking. I +thought I’d better make haste, though, +so I said to one cabman, “Are you +engaged?” and when he said “No,” I +jumped in quickly.</p> + +<p>Well, I expected that he’d start at +once, but he didn’t. I waited a minute +or two, then I poked open the little +hole, which is rather difficult to do +because it’s so high. I said, “Will you +tell your horse to go, please?”</p> + +<p>He looked most astonished. He said, +“You ain’t all alone?” I said “Yes.” +Then he was very cross. He said +“Come, now, get out of this.” I remembered +then that I hadn’t told him +where to go to, and I thought that +might be making him so disagreeable. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_136">[136]</span>I said, “I beg your pardon for not telling +you that I want to go to Waterloo +Station, and I want to start at once, +please.”</p> + +<p>The man seemed to get more surprised +still. He said (I can’t help it, +it’s sounding dreadful, but it’s what he +really did say)—he said, “Well, I’m +blessed!” Then he called out to a +porter, but the porter was too busy to +hear him.</p> + +<p>I didn’t know what to do because he +didn’t seem to be even beginning to +start. Then I remembered that when +we were at Cousin Sophy’s the cabman +wouldn’t drive us back from the pantomime +because he said Chiswick was too +far. So I poked open the little hole +again, and I said, “You are on the rank +plying for hire, and unless you start +immediately I shall summons you.” +That was what Cousin Sophy said; +Humph and I have often acted it since, +because the cabman was so angry and +there was such an exciting fuss.</p> + +<p>This cabman wasn’t angry, though; +he just seemed to get more and more +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_137">[137]</span>astonished. He began to laugh, and he +said again, “Well, I’m blessed!” +Then he said, “You ain’t running +away, are you, Missy?”</p> + +<p>I said “No.” I think that was true, +because it isn’t exactly running away +when you have been told that you are +to go the next day in any case. I said, +“I am just travelling home to my +Mother.”</p> + +<p>That seemed to decide him more. +He was going to start, when he thought +of something else to worry over. He +called down, “But ’ow about my fare, +Missy?”</p> + +<p>I had been rather troubled about that +myself. I’d got the half-crown for him, +of course, and the ticket home from +Waterloo is only one-and-five-pence-halfpenny, +so he could have another +halfpenny out of the sixpence with the +hole in it, as well as my bright farthing. +But I wasn’t sure if even all that was +enough. Cabs are so dreadfully expensive, +Mother always says; and Father +says one oughtn’t to be stingy. So I +just explained it to the cabman. I said, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_138">[138]</span>“I’ve got half-a-crown for you, and a +halfpenny out of the sixpence with a +hole in it, and a bright farthing; and if +you’ll drive me as far as you can for +that without me being stingy, I’ll walk +the rest.” I knew there couldn’t be +very much further to go, anyway.</p> + +<p>The cabman, though, was most nice. +He said, “The ’alf-crown will do nicely +for me, Missy. You can keep the rest.” +Then we really did drive off.</p> + +<p>I did like it in the cab, and the streets +were all bright with the lights. A clock +we passed said it was ten minutes to +twelve; wasn’t that an astonishing time? +When we got to Waterloo I jumped +out and gave the cabman his money. +He said, “Shall you find the lady all +right?” I said “Yes.” I think he +would have said more, only just at that +minute some one waved to him from the +opposite side of the road.</p> + +<p>There weren’t very many people in +the station, but they all stared very +rudely, and some looked as if they were +going to speak. So I hurried on as fast +as I could to the place where you get +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_139">[139]</span>the tickets. I knew there was a train in +the middle of the night, you see, because +Father comes down by it sometimes +after parties. The little window for +buying the tickets was open. (I can +reach up to it quite easily on tiptoe; +Humphrey can’t, he’d have to take a +footstool if he travelled alone.) I said, +“One half-third single to Farncombe.”</p> + +<p>Well, the gentleman there looked as +surprised as the cabman. He said +“What?” quite crossly. I thought it +was because I hadn’t said “please,” but +he wasn’t a bit nicer when I did. Then +some other people came near, and that +seemed to make the gentleman in the +little hole less surprised. He punched +my ticket and gave it to me, and he +said, “I suppose your Mother has a +season ticket?” I said, “No, Father +has.” I didn’t know why he asked, +but I think now he thought that I belonged +to the people who were standing +there. It was very silly of him, for the +lady wasn’t the least bit like Mother; +she looked horrid.</p> + +<p>I know the platform from which our +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_140">[140]</span>trains mostly start, besides a good many +other people were going along as well. +I heard one lady say, “Who does that +little girl belong to?” And the gentleman +said, “Oh, to that lot, I think.” It +made me very cross that everybody +should mistake the horrid lady for +Mother, but I didn’t like to explain. +Somebody else, too, asked me if I were +lost, but I said, very hard, “No.”</p> + +<p>It was so uncomfortable, people talking +to me like this, that I got into the +first empty carriage that I saw. I got +under the seat, too, so that they’d be +less likely to bother me with questions. +It isn’t nice when every one is +so astonished and cross at you.</p> + +<p>I liked it under the seat, but I was +so afraid that it was naughty. I did +hope that Mother wouldn’t mind. You +see, she always says that I am so careless +about my clothes, and that it is unkind +to Violet, who has to wear them when +I have grown out of them. It does +seem hard on Violet, certainly, because +she never spoils anything herself. I think +she’d look neat on a desert island. She +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_141">[141]</span>really ought to have been born an eldest. +It made it worse, too, because I was +wearing my titums. I suppose every one +knows that a titums is your middle-best +dress; the others are hitums and scrub.</p> + +<p>Of course, I didn’t stop under the +seat all the time, or else I might have +passed the station. I thought afterwards +that it was lucky no one got into the +carriage, because grown-up people are so +easily astonished, and they might have +thought it funny when I came crawling +out. We only stopped twice before we +got to Farncombe, which made it easier, +and I had lots of time to plan what I’d +do when we got there. First of all, +though, I tried if both doors of the +compartment were unlocked, because +that was part of the plan. They were. +I began to feel like the Young Pretender +after Culloden.</p> + +<p>Well, it all went beautifully. As the +train slowed down to go into Farncombe +Station I jumped out of the door on the +other side to our platform. Then I ran +across the line and crouched down by +the hedge until the train had gone off +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_142">[142]</span>again and everything was quiet. I did +this because the station-master and all +the people at Farncombe know us, and +I thought there’d be more fuss. Besides, +the station-master is a most disagreeable +man.</p> + +<p>I knew there was a hole in the hedge +just there, because Humph and I discovered +it one day when Fräulein took +us to meet Mother; she’d missed her +train, and so we had to wait a long +time. It wasn’t true, though, that +Humph and I first made that hole, like +the station-master said; it was there all +the time, though it may have got a +teeny bit larger, but then holes are +things that grow fast, like in sheets, but +’specially with woollen gloves. Anyway +it was a good thing now that it had got +big, because I was able to find it quite +easily and to scramble through into the +field. Nobody saw me, so after waiting +a few minutes more I walked across and +got over the stile into the road.</p> + +<p>I had quite forgotten that it would be +dark for this walk, when I planned to +come home at Mrs. Charlton’s. If I +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_143">[143]</span>had remembered, I might not have +started, because of thinking that Mother +would not like it, but I should never +have guessed that it would be so horrid +in itself. It wasn’t pitch black either, +like it sometimes is. I’m not sure it +wasn’t worse, because it was light +enough to see all sorts of dreadful black +things all round, and once you get quite +outside Farncombe there aren’t any +more lights or houses at all. It was so +quiet, too, there wasn’t a sound. All at +once I began to think of mad dogs and +St. Denis. I thought, suppose there was +some one coming after me, holding his +head in his hands and looking down at +it with his bleeding neck, like in the +picture. I wanted to run dreadfully, +but I wouldn’t let myself, because if you +once start, something seems to come +after you that will clutch you with long, +clawy fingers if you stop. I thought +of Mother instead, as hard as ever I +could, and I’d got the penwiper on +still, so I held that through my clothes. +That made it rather better.</p> + +<p>Suddenly I saw something in the road +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_144">[144]</span>moving. I could hardly breathe. It +was awful. But then it came nearer, +and I saw it was just an ordinary man. +He had on his head quite all right. +He said “Hullo!” and I said “Good-evening.”</p> + +<p>I didn’t think he was a very nice +man, though; for he came up quite +close in rather a rude way. He caught +hold of me and said, “That’s a nice +brooch you’ve got on,” and I said, +“Yes; Father gave it to me last +birthday. It’s real gold.”</p> + +<p>The man didn’t answer because just +then we heard wheels coming. He listened +for a minute and then he dashed +away into the bushes. The carriage +was really on the upper road, so he +needn’t have minded. I didn’t tell that +to him, because I didn’t like him much. +It was kind of him, though, to admire +my brooch. He was only a common +sort of man, so I dare say he’d never +been taught manners and things.</p> + +<p>I felt much better and more comfortable +after meeting the man. I got +almost directly to where our short cut +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_145">[145]</span>through the copse begins, and that made +it seem more like home. I thought that +I could let myself begin to run there, +because it’s such a little way, but all the +same I did feel frightened before I got +to the house. I rushed up to the front +door and tugged at the handle. It was +locked!</p> + +<p>Well, of course, I might have known +that it would be, but at the time it +seemed the worst thing of all. I began +screaming out “Mother, Mother!” and +I was all shaking and crying, I don’t +know why. Almost before you’d have +thought there was time, the door was +pulled back and Mother had hold of +me.</p> + +<p>After that it was all right, of course, +and almost too nice to tell. Mother +had come running down just as she was, +though she said afterwards that she +hadn’t really believed that it could be +me, and had thought that she was +dreaming it all. She carried me up and +undressed me and put me into her own +bed. I was still rather silly, for I didn’t +seem to be able to say anything, only a +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_146">[146]</span>line I’d read kept going on inside my +head about “Port after stormy seas.”</p> + +<p>Presently, though, Mother began to +ask me questions. She kept asking me +if I had really come all the way alone, as +if she could hardly believe it. Each +time I said “Yes” she cuddled me +again. Then she asked me if Mrs. +Charlton knew; so I ’splained about it. +Mother didn’t say anything hardly then, +but she wrote a telegram for Mrs. +Charlton to say that I’d arrived safely, +and she put it for the gardener to take +to the post-office the first thing in the +morning. Mother got me some milk, +and some cake, which I ate while she +went in for a minute to see Humph. I +forgot to say that of course I’d asked +about him at the beginning, and Mother +said that he had got much better the +last day. Fräulein was with him, so +Mother didn’t have to stay. She came +back to me, and I was so happy it +seemed to make me sleepy all at once. +It was almost too lovely to feel that +Mother was quite close to me.</p> + +<p>The next day it wasn’t so nice, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_147">[147]</span>though. Mother talked to me a long +time, and she said a thing that made me +feel dreadfully bad; she said I’d been +selfish; I’d thought of my own feelings +but not of other people’s. She said that +fortunately Mrs. Charlton had not discovered +my absence until the next +morning, but if she had done so she +would have been extremely worried, +and, at her age, it might have made her +quite ill. Also she’d have telegraphed +home, and Mother says had she known +that I was wandering about the country +by myself all night, she could hardly +have borne it, especially when Humphrey +was so ill and Father away. I +minded that part much more than about +Mrs. Charlton. Mother looked so unhappy, +it was dreadful. I promised and +promised I’d never do such a thing +again.</p> + +<p>That wasn’t all the disagreeables +either. The next day a letter came +from Cousin Sophy in London, asking +me and the little ones to stay with her. +She’d been abroad before, and so had +only just heard of Humph’s having +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_148">[148]</span>measles. Well, Mother wrote to Jane, +who was away in lodgings with the little +ones, to tell her to take them to Cousin +Sophy’s at the end of the week, because +Mother knew that they’d like it better. +But with regard to me, Mother said she +hardly liked to trust me away from +home again.</p> + +<p>I minded the not being trusted part, +but I didn’t mind the not going so +much when Mother told me, because it +seemed so nice to stop at home with her. +But it wasn’t really; it was a great deal +horrider than I could have ’magined. I +hardly saw Mother at all because she +was looking after Humphrey all the time, +and I wasn’t allowed to go in to him. +As for Fräulein, she was most strict and +disagreeable. And then when Violet +wrote she said that Cousin Sophy had +taken them to the Zoo and the Chamber +of Horrors, and lots of other lovely +places. I did feel cross.</p> + +<p>They are back now, though, and +Humph is well, and everything is nice. +I’ve quite settled not to go visiting +strangers alone again—no, not as long as +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_149">[149]</span>I live. The others are so interested in +my adventures, though, that it almost +makes one forget how horrid they +really were. Perhaps the lovely things +you read in books are really like that, +and even being a cowboy mayn’t be +always nice. And I do think a journey +like mine would be too dreadful for any +one if Mother weren’t waiting for them +at the end of it.</p> + +<p class="center"><small>UNWIN BROTHERS, LIMITED, PRINTERS, WOKING AND LONDON.</small></p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> +<div class="blockquot"> +<p class="ph3">SOME DAINTY GIFT BOOKS.</p> + + +<hr class="tb"> +<p class="ph3">TUFFY AND THE MERBOO</p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">By</span> PHYLLIS M. GOTCH,</p> + +<p class="center">Author of “The Romance of a Boo-Bird Chic.”</p> + +<p class="center">Seventeen Full-page Coloured Pictures.</p> + +<p class="right"> <i>Large 4to</i>, <b>6s.</b></p> + +<hr class="tiny"> + +<p class="ph3"><small>THE</small><br> +CINEMATOGRAPH TRAIN</p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">By</span> G. E. FARROW,</p> + +<p class="center">Author of the “Wallypug of Why.”</p> + +<p class="center">Thirty Drawings by <span class="smcap">Alan Wright</span>.</p> + +<p class="right"><i>Large Crown 8vo</i>, <b>5s.</b></p> + +<hr class="tiny"> + +<p class="ph3">THE GIANT CRAB</p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">By</span> W. H. D. ROUSE.</p> + +<p class="center">Profusely Illustrated by <span class="smcap">Charles Robinson</span>.</p> + +<p class="right"><i>Square Crown 8vo</i>, <b>3s. 6d.</b></p> + +<p>R. BRIMLEY JOHNSON,<br> +<span class="indent4"><span class="smcap">4, Adam Street, Strand, London</span>;</span><br> +<span class="indent4">and <span class="smcap">3, Frederick Street, Edinburgh</span>.</span></p> +</div></div> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> +<div class="blockquot"> +<p class="ph3">FROM THE AUTUMN LIST.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p class="ph3">LESSONS</p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">By</span> EVELYN SHARP,</p> + +<p class="center">Author of “Wynips,” etc., etc.</p> + +<p class="center">Sketches of Child Life and Character.</p> + +<p class="right"><i>Crown 8vo</i>, <b>2s. 6d.</b> <i>net</i>.</p> + +<hr class="tiny"> + +<p class="ph3">ENGLAND: A NATION</p> + +<p class="center">BEING</p> + +<p class="center">The Papers of the Patriots’ Club</p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Edited by</span><br> + LUCIAN OLDERSHAW.</p> + +<p class="right"><i>Crown 8vo</i>, <b>3s. 6d.</b> <i>net</i>.</p> + +<p class="center">Contributors:</p> + +<table> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">G. K. Chesterton</span>, </td><td> Rev. <span class="smcap">Conrad Noel</span>,</td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">H. W. Nevinson</span>, </td><td> <span class="smcap">Reginald Bray</span>,</td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">J. L. Hammond</span>, </td><td> <span class="smcap">C. F. G. Masterman</span>,</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdc" colspan="2">and <span class="smcap">R. C. K. Ensor</span>.</td></tr> +</table> + +<hr class="tiny"> + +<p class="ph3">YOUNG ENGLAND</p> + +<p class="center">BEING</p> + +<p class="center">Vivian Grey, Coningsby, Sybil, Tancred</p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">By</span> BENJAMIN DISRAELI.</p> + +<p class="center"> + 4 Vols. <span class="gap"> <i>Large Crown 8vo, each</i> <b>5s.</b> <i>net</i>.</span></p> + +<p class="center">Edited by <span class="smcap">B. Langdon Davies</span>.</p> + +<p class="center">Illustrated by <span class="smcap">Byam Shaw</span>.</p> + +<hr class="tiny"> + +<p class="ph3">J. T. NETTLESHIP</p> + +<p class="center">In Memoriam</p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Edited by</span> W. ROTHENSTEIN.</p> + +<p class="center">Twenty-four beautiful reproductions of his<br> +early symbolic and late animal work.</p> + +<p class="center">Appreciations by <span class="smcap">W. B. Yeats</span>, Professor<br> +<span class="smcap">Andrew Bradley</span>, <span class="smcap">A. E. John</span>, and<br> +<span class="smcap">H. McIlvaine</span>.</p> + +<hr class="tiny"> + +<p class="ph1">R. BRIMLEY JOHNSON.</p> +</div></div> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> +<div class="transnote"> +<p class="ph1">TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:</p> + +<p>Perceived typographical errors have been corrected.</p> + +<p>Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.</p> + +<p>Archaic or variant spelling has been retained.</p> +</div></div> + +<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77065 ***</div> +</body> +</html> + diff --git a/77065-h/images/cover.jpg b/77065-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..47360f7 --- /dev/null +++ b/77065-h/images/cover.jpg diff --git a/77065-h/images/coversmall.jpg b/77065-h/images/coversmall.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..29949da --- /dev/null +++ b/77065-h/images/coversmall.jpg diff --git a/77065-h/images/i_007.jpg b/77065-h/images/i_007.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..7520533 --- /dev/null +++ b/77065-h/images/i_007.jpg diff --git a/77065-h/images/i_title.jpg b/77065-h/images/i_title.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..b876122 --- /dev/null +++ b/77065-h/images/i_title.jpg diff --git a/77065-h/images/i_titlelogo.jpg b/77065-h/images/i_titlelogo.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..efd3a0a --- /dev/null +++ b/77065-h/images/i_titlelogo.jpg diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. 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