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+The Project Gutenberg eBook, More William, by Richmal Crompton,
+Illustrated by Thomas Henry
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+
+
+
+Title: More William
+
+
+Author: Richmal Crompton
+
+
+
+Release Date: November 21, 2005  [eBook #17125]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MORE WILLIAM***
+
+
+E-text prepared by David Clarke, Geetu Melwani, and the Project Gutenberg
+Online Distributed Proofreading Team (https://www.pgdp.net/)
+
+
+
+Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this
+      file which includes the original illustrations.
+      See 17125-h.htm or 17125-h.zip:
+      (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/7/1/2/17125/17125-h/17125-h.htm)
+      or
+      (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/7/1/2/17125/17125-h.zip)
+
+
+
+
+
+MORE WILLIAM
+
+by
+
+RICHMAL CROMPTON
+
+Illustrated by Thomas Henry
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+London
+George Newnes, Limited
+Southampton St., Strand, W.C.
+
+
+
+[Illustration: "WOT YOU DRESSED UP LIKE THAT FOR?" SAID THE
+APPARITION, WITH A TOUCH OF SCORN IN HIS VOICE.
+(See Chapter IX: The Revenge.)]
+
+
+
+First Edition           December  1922
+Second Impression       January   1923
+Third Impression        February  1923
+Fourth Impression       July      1923
+Fifth Impression        September 1923
+Sixth Impression        December  1923
+Seventh Impression      February  1924
+Eighth Impression       July      1924
+Ninth Impression        November  1924
+Made and Printed in Great Britain by Wyman & Son, Ltd., London,
+Fakenham and Reading.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+     CHAPTER                              PAGE
+
+     I.    A Busy Day                      11
+
+     II.   Rice-Mould                      31
+
+     III.  William's Burglar               49
+
+     IV.   The Knight at Arms              67
+
+     V.    William's Hobby                 78
+
+     VI.   The Rivals                      89
+
+     VII.  The Ghost                      110
+
+     VIII. The May King                   125
+
+     IX.   The Revenge                    144
+
+     X.    The Helper                     157
+
+     XI.   William and the Smuggler       174
+
+     XII.  The Reform of William          197
+
+     XIII. William and the Ancient Souls  213
+
+     XIV.  William's Christmas Eve        228
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+A BUSY DAY
+
+
+William awoke and rubbed his eyes. It was Christmas Day--the day to
+which he had looked forward with mingled feelings for twelve months.
+It was a jolly day, of course--presents and turkey and crackers and
+staying up late. On the other hand, there were generally too many
+relations about, too much was often expected of one, the curious taste
+displayed by people who gave one presents often marred one's pleasure.
+
+He looked round his bedroom expectantly. On the wall, just opposite
+his bed, was a large illuminated card hanging by a string from a
+nail--"A Busy Day is a Happy Day." That had not been there the day
+before. Brightly-coloured roses and forget-me-nots and honeysuckle
+twined round all the words. William hastily thought over the three
+aunts staying in the house, and put it down to Aunt Lucy. He looked at
+it with a doubtful frown. He distrusted the sentiment.
+
+A copy of "Portraits of our Kings and Queens" he put aside as beneath
+contempt. "Things a Boy Can Do" was more promising. _Much_ more
+promising. After inspecting a penknife, a pocket-compass, and a
+pencil-box (which shared the fate of "Portraits of our Kings and
+Queens"), William returned to "Things a Boy Can Do." As he turned the
+pages, his face lit up.
+
+He leapt lightly out of bed and dressed. Then he began to arrange his
+own gifts to his family. For his father he had bought a bottle of
+highly-coloured sweets, for his elder brother Robert (aged nineteen)
+he had expended a vast sum of money on a copy of "The Pirates of the
+Bloody Hand." These gifts had cost him much thought. The knowledge
+that his father never touched sweets, and that Robert professed scorn
+of pirate stories, had led him to hope that the recipients of his
+gifts would make no objection to the unobtrusive theft of them by
+their recent donor in the course of the next few days. For his
+grown-up sister Ethel he had bought a box of coloured chalks. That
+also might come in useful later. Funds now had been running low, but
+for his mother he had bought a small cream-jug which, after fierce
+bargaining, the man had let him have at half-price because it was
+cracked.
+
+Singing "Christians Awake!" at the top of his lusty young voice, he
+went along the landing, putting his gifts outside the doors of his
+family, and pausing to yell "Happy Christmas" as he did so. From
+within he was greeted in each case by muffled groans.
+
+He went downstairs into the hall, still singing. It was earlier than
+he thought--just five o'clock. The maids were not down yet. He
+switched on lights recklessly, and discovered that he was not the only
+person in the hall. His four-year-old cousin Jimmy was sitting on the
+bottom step in an attitude of despondency, holding an empty tin.
+
+Jimmy's mother had influenza at home, and Jimmy and his small sister
+Barbara were in the happy position of spending Christmas with
+relations, but immune from parental or maternal interference.
+
+"They've gotten out," said Jimmy, sadly. "I got 'em for presents
+yesterday, an' they've gotten out. I've been feeling for 'em in the
+dark, but I can't find 'em."
+
+"What?" said William.
+
+"Snails. Great big suge ones wiv great big suge shells. I put 'em in a
+tin for presents an' they've gotten out an' I've gotten no presents
+for nobody."
+
+He relapsed into despondency.
+
+William surveyed the hall.
+
+"They've got out right enough!" he said, sternly. "They've got out
+right _enough_. Jus' look at our hall! Jus' look at our clothes!
+They've got out _right_ enough."
+
+Innumerable slimy iridescent trails shone over hats, and coats, and
+umbrellas, and wall-paper.
+
+"Huh!" grunted William, who was apt to overwork his phrases. "They've
+got _out_ right enough."
+
+He looked at the tracks again and brightened. Jimmy was frankly
+delighted.
+
+"Oo! Look!" he cried, "Oo _funny_!"
+
+William's thoughts flew back to his bedroom wall--"A Busy Day is a
+Happy Day."
+
+"Let's clean it up!" he said. "Let's have it all nice an' clean for
+when they come down. We'll be busy. You tell me if you feel happy when
+we've done. It might be true wot it says, but I don't like the flowers
+messin' all over it."
+
+Investigation in the kitchen provided them with a large pail of water
+and a scrubbing-brush each.
+
+For a long time they worked in silence. They used plenty of water.
+When they had finished the trails were all gone. Each soaked garment
+on the hat-stand was sending a steady drip on to the already flooded
+floor. The wall-paper was sodden. With a feeling of blankness they
+realised that there was nothing else to clean.
+
+It was Jimmy who conceived the exquisite idea of dipping his brush in
+the bucket and sprinkling William with water. A scrubbing-brush is in
+many ways almost as good as a hose. Each had a pail of ammunition.
+Each had a good-sized brush. During the next few minutes they
+experienced purest joy. Then William heard threatening movements
+above, and decided hastily that the battle must cease.
+
+"Backstairs," he said shortly. "Come on."
+
+Marking their track by a running stream of water, they crept up the
+backstairs.
+
+But two small boys soaked to the skin could not disclaim all
+knowledge of a flooded hall.
+
+William was calm and collected when confronted with a distracted
+mother.
+
+"We was tryin' to clean up," he said. "We found all snail marks an' we
+was tryin' to clean up. We was tryin' to help. You said so last night,
+you know, when you was talkin' to me. You said to _help_. Well, I
+thought it was helpin' to try an' clean up. You can't clean up with
+water an' not get wet--not if you do it prop'ly. You said to try an'
+make Christmas Day happy for other folks and then I'd be happy. Well,
+I don't know as I'm very happy," he said, bitterly, "but I've been
+workin' hard enough since early this mornin'. I've been workin'," he
+went on pathetically. His eye wandered to the notice on his wall.
+"I've been _busy_ all right, but it doesn't make me _happy_--not jus'
+now," he added, with memories of the rapture of the fight. That
+certainly must be repeated some time. Buckets of water and
+scrubbing-brushes. He wondered he'd never thought of that before.
+
+William's mother looked down at his dripping form.
+
+"Did you get all that water with just cleaning up the snail marks?"
+she said.
+
+William coughed and cleared his throat. "Well," he said,
+deprecatingly, "most of it. I think I got most of it."
+
+"If it wasn't Christmas Day ..." she went on darkly.
+
+William's spirits rose. There was certainly something to be said for
+Christmas Day.
+
+It was decided to hide the traces of the crime as far as possible from
+William's father. It was felt--and not without reason--that William's
+father's feelings of respect for the sanctity of Christmas Day might
+be overcome by his feelings of paternal ire.
+
+Half-an-hour later William, dried, dressed, brushed, and chastened,
+descended the stairs as the gong sounded in a hall which was bare of
+hats and coats, and whose floor shone with cleanliness.
+
+"And jus' to think," said William, despondently, "that it's only jus'
+got to brekfust time."
+
+William's father was at the bottom of the stairs. William's father
+frankly disliked Christmas Day.
+
+"Good-morning, William," he said, "and a happy Christmas, and I hope
+it's not too much to ask of you that on this relation-infested day
+one's feelings may be harrowed by you as little as possible. And why
+the deu--dickens they think it necessary to wash the hall floor before
+breakfast, Heaven only knows!"
+
+William coughed, a cough meant to be a polite mixture of greeting and
+deference. William's face was a study in holy innocence. His father
+glanced at him suspiciously. There were certain expressions of
+William's that he distrusted.
+
+William entered the dining-room morosely. Jimmy's sister Barbara--a
+small bundle of curls and white frills--was already beginning her
+porridge.
+
+"Goo' mornin'," she said, politely, "did you hear me cleanin' my
+teef?"
+
+He crushed her with a glance.
+
+He sat eating in silence till everyone had come down, and Aunts Jane,
+Evangeline, and Lucy were consuming porridge with that mixture of
+festivity and solemnity that they felt the occasion demanded.
+
+Then Jimmy entered, radiant, with a tin in his hand.
+
+"Got presents," he said, proudly. "Got presents, lots of presents."
+
+He deposited on Barbara's plate a worm which Barbara promptly threw at
+his face. Jimmy looked at her reproachfully and proceeded to Aunt
+Evangeline. Aunt Evangeline's gift was a centipede--a live centipede
+that ran gaily off the tablecloth on to Aunt Evangeline's lap before
+anyone could stop it. With a yell that sent William's father to the
+library with his hands to his ears, Aunt Evangeline leapt to her chair
+and stood with her skirts held to her knees.
+
+"Help! Help!" she cried. "The horrible boy! Catch it! Kill it!"
+
+Jimmy gazed at her in amazement, and Barbara looked with interest at
+Aunt Evangeline's long expanse of shin.
+
+"_My_ legs isn't like _your_ legs," she said pleasantly and
+conversationally. "My legs is knees."
+
+It was some time before order was restored, the centipede killed, and
+Jimmy's remaining gifts thrown out of the window. William looked
+across the table at Jimmy with respect in his eye. Jimmy, in spite of
+his youth, was an acquaintance worth cultivating. Jimmy was eating
+porridge unconcernedly.
+
+Aunt Evangeline had rushed from the room when the slaughter of the
+centipede had left the coast clear, and refused to return. She carried
+on a conversation from the top of the stairs.
+
+"When that horrible child has gone, I'll come. He may have insects
+concealed on his person. And someone's been dropping water all over
+these stairs. They're _damp_!"
+
+"Dear, dear!" murmured Aunt Jane, sadly.
+
+Jimmy looked up from his porridge.
+
+"How was I to know she didn't like insecks?" he said, aggrievedly.
+"_I_ like 'em."
+
+William's mother's despair was only tempered by the fact that this
+time William was not the culprit. To William also it was a novel
+sensation. He realised the advantages of a fellow criminal.
+
+After breakfast peace reigned. William's father went out for a walk
+with Robert. The aunts sat round the drawing-room fire talking and
+doing crochet-work. In this consists the whole art and duty of
+aunthood. _All_ aunts do crochet-work.
+
+They had made careful inquiries about the time of the service.
+
+"You needn't worry," had said William's mother. "It's at 10.30, and
+if you go to get ready when the clock in the library strikes ten it
+will give you heaps of time."
+
+[Illustration: AROUND THEM LAY, MOST INDECENTLY EXPOSED, THE INTERNAL
+ARRANGEMENTS OF THE LIBRARY CLOCK.]
+
+Peace ... calm ... quiet. Mrs. Brown and Ethel in the kitchen
+supervising the arrangements for the day. The aunts in the
+drawing-room discussing over their crochet-work the terrible way in
+which their sisters had brought up their children. That, also, is a
+necessary part of aunthood.
+
+Time slipped by happily and peacefully. Then William's mother came
+into the drawing-room.
+
+"I thought you were going to church," she said.
+
+"We are. The clock hasn't struck."
+
+"But--it's eleven o'clock!"
+
+There was a gasp of dismay.
+
+"The clock never struck!"
+
+Indignantly they set off to the library. Peace and quiet reigned also
+in the library. On the floor sat William and Jimmy gazing with frowns
+of concentration at an open page of "Things a Boy Can Do." Around them
+lay most indecently exposed the internal arrangements of the library
+clock.
+
+"William! You _wicked_ boy!"
+
+William raised a frowning face.
+
+"It's not put together right," he said, "it's not been put together
+right all this time. We're makin' it right now. It must have wanted
+mendin' for ever so long. _I_ dunno how it's been goin' at all. It's
+lucky we found it out. It's put together wrong. I guess it's _made_
+wrong. It's goin' to be a lot of trouble to us to put it right, an' we
+can't do much when you're all standin' in the light. We're very
+busy--workin' at tryin' to mend this ole clock for you all."
+
+"Clever," said Jimmy, admiringly. "Mendin' the clock. _Clever!_"
+
+"William!" groaned his mother, "you've ruined the clock. What _will_
+your father say?"
+
+"Well, the cog-wheels was wrong," said William doggedly. "See? An'
+this ratchet-wheel isn't on the pawl prop'ly--not like what this book
+says it ought to be. Seems we've got to take it all to pieces to get
+it right. Seems to me the person wot made this clock didn't know much
+about clock-making. Seems to me----"
+
+"Be _quiet_, William!"
+
+"We was be quietin' 'fore you came in," said Jimmy, severely. "You
+'sturbed us."
+
+"Leave it just as it is, William," said his mother.
+
+"You don't _unnerstand_," said William with the excitement of the
+fanatic. "The cog-wheel an' the ratchet ought to be put on the arbor
+different. See, this is the cog-wheel. Well, it oughtn't to be like
+wot it was. It was put on all _wrong_. Well, we was mendin' it. An' we
+was doin' it for _you_," he ended, bitterly, "jus' to help an'--to--to
+make other folks happy. It makes folks happy havin' clocks goin'
+right, anyone would _think_. But if you _want_ your clocks put
+together wrong, _I_ don't care."
+
+He picked up his book and walked proudly from the room followed by the
+admiring Jimmy.
+
+"William," said Aunt Lucy patiently, as he passed, "I don't want to
+say anything unkind, and I hope you won't remember all your life that
+you have completely spoilt this Christmas Day for me."
+
+"Oh, dear!" murmured Aunt Jane, sadly.
+
+William, with a look before which she should have sunk into the earth,
+answered shortly that he didn't think he would.
+
+During the midday dinner the grown-ups, as is the foolish fashion of
+grown-ups, wasted much valuable time in the discussion of such
+futilities as the weather and the political state of the nation. Aunt
+Lucy was still suffering and aggrieved.
+
+"I can go this evening, of course," she said, "but it's not quite the
+same. The morning service is different. Yes, please, dear--_and_
+stuffing. Yes, I'll have a little more turkey, too. And, of course,
+the vicar may not preach to-night. That makes such a difference. The
+gravy on the potatoes, please. It's almost the first Christmas I've
+not been in the morning. It seems quite to have spoilt the day for
+me."
+
+She bent on William a glance of gentle reproach. William was quite
+capable of meeting adequately that or any other glance, but at present
+he was too busy for minor hostilities. He was _extremely_ busy. He was
+doing his utmost to do full justice to a meal that only happens once a
+year.
+
+"William," said Barbara pleasantly, "I can _dweam_. Can you?"
+
+He made no answer.
+
+"Answer your cousin, William," said his mother.
+
+He swallowed, then spoke plaintively, "You always say not to talk with
+my mouth full," he said.
+
+"You could speak when you've finished the mouthful."
+
+"No. 'Cause I want to fill it again then," said William, firmly.
+
+"Dear, _dear_!" murmured Aunt Jane.
+
+This was Aunt Jane's usual contribution to any conversation.
+
+He looked coldly at the three pairs of horrified aunts' eyes around
+him, then placidly continued his meal.
+
+Mrs. Brown hastily changed the subject of conversation. The art of
+combining the duties of mother and hostess is sometimes a difficult
+one.
+
+Christmas afternoon is a time of rest. The three aunts withdrew from
+public life. Aunt Lucy found a book of sermons in the library and
+retired to her bedroom with it.
+
+"It's the next best thing, I think," she said with a sad glance at
+William.
+
+William was beginning definitely to dislike Aunt Lucy.
+
+"Please'm," said the cook an hour later, "the mincing machine's
+disappeared."
+
+"Disappeared?" said William's mother, raising her hand to her head.
+
+"Clean gone'm. 'Ow'm I to get the supper'm? You said as 'ow I could
+get it done this afternoon so as to go to church this evening. I can't
+do nuffink with the mincing machine gone."
+
+"I'll come and look."
+
+They searched every corner of the kitchen, then William's mother had
+an idea. William's mother had not been William's mother for eleven
+years without learning many things. She went wearily up to William's
+bedroom.
+
+William was sitting on the floor. Open beside him was "Things a Boy
+Can Do." Around him lay various parts of the mincing machine. His face
+was set and strained in mental and physical effort. He looked up as
+she entered.
+
+"It's a funny kind of mincing machine," he said, crushingly. "It's not
+got enough parts. It's _made_ wrong----"
+
+"Do you know," she said, slowly, "that we've all been looking for that
+mincin' machine for the last half-hour?"
+
+"No," he said without much interest, "I di'n't. I'd have told you I
+was mendin' it if you'd told me you was lookin' for it. It's _wrong_,"
+he went on aggrievedly. "I can't make anything with it. Look! It says
+in my book 'How to make a model railway signal with parts of a mincing
+machine.' Listen! It says, 'Borrow a mincing machine from your
+mother----"
+
+"Did you borrow it?" said Mrs. Brown.
+
+"Yes. Well, I've got it, haven't I? I went all the way down to the
+kitchen for it."
+
+"Who lent it to you?"
+
+"No one _lent_ it me. I _borrowed_ it. I thought you'd like to see a
+model railway signal. I thought you'd be interested. Anyone would
+think anyone would be interested in seein' a railway signal made out
+of a mincin' machine."
+
+His tone implied that the dullness of people in general was simply
+beyond him. "An' you haven't got a right sort of mincin' machine. It's
+wrong. Its parts are the wrong shape. I've been hammerin' them, tryin'
+to make them right, but they're _made_ wrong."
+
+Mrs. Brown was past expostulating. "Take them all down to the kitchen
+to cook," she said. "She's waiting for them."
+
+On the stairs William met Aunt Lucy carrying her volume of sermons.
+
+"It's not quite the same as the spoken word, William, dear," she said.
+"It hasn't the _force_. The written word doesn't reach the _heart_ as
+the spoken word does, but I don't want you to worry about it."
+
+William walked on as if he had not heard her.
+
+It was Aunt Jane who insisted on the little entertainment after tea.
+
+"I _love_ to hear the dear children recite," she said. "I'm sure they
+all have some little recitation they can say."
+
+Barbara arose with shy delight to say her piece.
+
+    "Lickle bwown seed, lickle bwown bwother,
+     And what, pway, are you goin' to be?
+     I'll be a poppy as white as my mother,
+     Oh, DO be a poppy like me!
+     What, you'll be a sunflower? Oh, how I shall miss you
+     When you are golden and high!
+     But I'll send all the bees up to tiss you.
+     Lickle bwown bwother, good-bye!"
+
+She sat down blushing, amid rapturous applause.
+
+Next Jimmy was dragged from his corner. He stood up as one prepared
+for the worst, shut his eyes, and--
+
+    "Licklaxokindness lickledeedsolove--
+     make--thisearfanedenliketheeav'nabovethasalliknow."
+
+he gasped all in one breath, and sat down panting.
+
+This was greeted with slightly milder applause.
+
+"Now, William!"
+
+"I don't know any," he said.
+
+"Oh, you _do_," said his mother. "Say the one you learnt at school
+last term. Stand up, dear, and speak clearly."
+
+Slowly William rose to his feet.
+
+     "_It was the schooner Hesperus that sailed the wintry sea_,"
+
+he began.
+
+Here he stopped, coughed, cleared his throat, and began again.
+
+     "_It was the schooner Hesperus that sailed the wintry sea._"
+
+"Oh, get _on_!" muttered his brother, irritably.
+
+[Illustration: "IT WAS THE HESPER SCHOONERUS THAT SAILED THE WINTRY
+SEA AN' I'M NOT GOIN' ON IF ETHEL'S GOIN' TO KEEP GIGGLIN'."]
+
+"I can't get on if you keep talkin' to me," said William, sternly.
+"How can I get on if you keep takin' all the time up _sayin'_ get on?
+I can't get on if you're talkin', can I?"
+
+"It was the Hesper Schoonerus that sailed the wintry sea an' I'm not
+goin' on if Ethel's goin' to keep gigglin'. It's not a funny piece,
+an' if she's goin' on gigglin' like that I'm not sayin' any more of
+it."
+
+"Ethel, dear!" murmured Mrs. Brown, reproachfully. Ethel turned her
+chair completely round and left her back only exposed to William's
+view. He glared at it suspiciously.
+
+"Now, William dear," continued his mother, "begin again and no one
+shall interrupt you."
+
+William again went through the preliminaries of coughing and clearing
+his throat.
+
+     "_It was the schooner Hesperus that sailed the wintry seas._"
+
+He stopped again, and slowly and carefully straightened his collar and
+smoothed back the lock of hair which was dangling over his brow.
+
+"_The skipper had brought----_" prompted Aunt Jane, kindly.
+
+William turned on her.
+
+"I was _goin'_ to say that if you'd left me alone," he said. "I was
+jus' thinkin'. I've got to think sometimes. I can't say off a great
+long pome like that without stoppin' to think sometimes, can I?
+I'll--I'll do a conjuring trick for you instead," he burst out,
+desperately. "I've learnt one from my book. I'll go an' get it ready."
+
+He went out of the room. Mr. Brown took out his handkerchief and
+mopped his brow.
+
+"May I ask," he said patiently, "how long this exhibition is to be
+allowed to continue?"
+
+Here William returned, his pockets bulging. He held a large
+handkerchief in his hand.
+
+"This is a handkerchief," he announced. "If anyone'd like to feel it
+to see if it's a real one, they can. Now I want a shilling," he looked
+round expectantly, but no one moved, "or a penny would do," he said,
+with a slightly disgusted air. Robert threw one across the room.
+"Well, I put the penny into the handkerchief. You can see me do it,
+can't you? If anyone wants to come an' feel the penny is in the
+handkerchief, they can. Well," he turned his back on them and took
+something out of his pocket. After a few contortions he turned round
+again, holding the handkerchief tightly. "Now, you look close,"--he
+went over to them--"an' you'll see the shil--I mean, penny," he looked
+scornfully at Robert, "has changed to an egg. It's a real egg. If
+anyone thinks it isn't a real egg----"
+
+But it _was_ a real egg. It confirmed his statement by giving a
+resounding crack and sending a shining stream partly on to the carpet
+and partly on to Aunt Evangeline's black silk knee. A storm of
+reproaches burst out.
+
+"First that horrible insect," almost wept Aunt Evangeline, "and then
+this messy stuff all over me. It's a good thing I don't live here. One
+day a year is enough.... My nerves!..."
+
+"Dear, dear!" said Aunt Jane.
+
+"Fancy taking a new-laid _egg_ for that," said Ethel severely.
+
+William was pale and indignant.
+
+"Well, I did jus' what the book said to do. Look at it. It says: 'Take
+an egg. Conceal it in the pocket.' Well, I took an egg an' I concealed
+it in the pocket. Seems to me," he said bitterly, "seems to me this
+book isn't 'Things a Boy Can Do.' It's 'Things a Boy Can't Do.'"
+
+Mr. Brown rose slowly from his chair.
+
+"You're just about right there, my son. Thank _you_," he said with
+elaborate politeness, as he took the book from William's reluctant
+hands and went over with it to a small cupboard in the wall. In this
+cupboard reposed an airgun, a bugle, a catapult, and a mouth-organ. As
+he unlocked it to put the book inside, the fleeting glimpse of his
+confiscated treasures added to the bitterness of William's soul.
+
+"On Christmas Day, too!"
+
+While he was still afire with silent indignation Aunt Lucy returned
+from church.
+
+"The vicar _didn't_ preach," she said. "They say that this morning's
+sermon was beautiful. As I say, I don't want William to reproach
+himself, but I feel that he has deprived me of a very great treat."
+
+"_Nice_ Willum!" murmured Jimmy sleepily from his corner.
+
+As William undressed that night his gaze fell upon the flower-bedecked
+motto: "A Busy Day is a Happy Day."
+
+"It's a story," he said, indignantly. "It's jus' a wicked ole story."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+RICE-MOULD
+
+
+"Rice-mould," said the little girl next door bitterly. "Rice-mould!
+Rice-mould! every single day. I _hate_ it, don't you?"
+
+She turned gloomy blue eyes upon William, who was perched perilously
+on the ivy-covered wall. William considered thoughtfully.
+
+"Dunno," he said. "I just eat it; I never thought about it."
+
+"It's _hateful_, just _hateful_. Ugh! I've had it at dinner and I'll
+have it at supper--bet you anything. I say, you are going to have a
+party to-night, aren't you?"
+
+William nodded carelessly.
+
+"Are you going to be there?"
+
+"Me!" ejaculated William in a tone of amused surprise. "I should think
+so! You don't think they could have it without _me_, do you? Huh! Not
+much!"
+
+She gazed at him enviously.
+
+"You _are_ lucky! I expect you'll have a lovely supper--not rice
+mould," bitterly.
+
+"Rather!" said William with an air of superiority.
+
+"What are you going to have to eat at your party?"
+
+"Oh--everything," said William vaguely.
+
+"Cream blanc-mange?"
+
+"Heaps of it--_buckets_ of it."
+
+The little girl next door clasped her hands.
+
+"Oh, just think of it! Your eating cream blanc-mange and me
+eating--_rice-mould_!" (It is impossible to convey in print the
+intense scorn and hatred which the little girl next door could
+compress into the two syllables.)
+
+Here an idea struck William.
+
+"What time do you have supper?"
+
+"Seven."
+
+"Well, now," magnanimously, "if you'll be in your summer-house at
+half-past, I'll bring you some cream blanc-mange. Truly I will!"
+
+The little girl's face beamed with pleasure.
+
+"Will you? Will you _really_? You won't forget?"
+
+"Not me! I'll be there. I'll slip away from our show on the quiet with
+it."
+
+"Oh, how _lovely_! I'll be thinking of it every minute. Don't forget.
+Good-bye!"
+
+She blew him a kiss and flitted daintily into the house.
+
+William blushed furiously at the blown kiss and descended from his
+precarious perch.
+
+He went to the library where his grown-up sister Ethel and his elder
+brother Robert were standing on ladders at opposite ends of the room,
+engaged in hanging up festoons of ivy and holly across the wall.
+There was to be dancing in the library after supper. William's mother
+watched them from a safe position on the floor.
+
+[Illustration: "IF YOU'LL BE IN YOUR SUMMER-HOUSE AT HALF-PAST, I'LL
+BRING YOU SOME CREAM BLANC-MANGE. TRULY I WILL!" SAID WILLIAM.]
+
+"Look here, mother," began William. "Am I or am I not coming to the
+party to-night?"
+
+William's mother sighed.
+
+"For goodness' sake, William, don't open that discussion again. For
+the tenth time to-day, you are _not_!"
+
+"But _why_ not?" he persisted. "I only want to know why not. That's
+all I want to know. It looks a bit funny, doesn't it, to give a party
+and leave out your only son, at least,"--with a glance at Robert, and a
+slight concession to accuracy--"to leave out one of your only two
+sons? It looks a bit queer, surely. That's all I'm thinking of--how it
+will look."
+
+"A bit higher your end," said Ethel.
+
+"Yes, that's better," said William's mother.
+
+"It's a _young_ folks' party," went on William, warming to his
+subject. "I heard you tell Aunt Jane it was a _young_ folks' party.
+Well, I'm young, aren't I? I'm eleven. Do you want me any younger? You
+aren't ashamed of folks seeing me, are you! I'm not deformed or
+anything."
+
+"That's right! Put the nail in there, Ethel."
+
+"Just a bit higher. That's right!"
+
+"P'raps you're afraid of what I'll _eat_," went on William bitterly.
+"Well, everyone eats, don't they? They've got to--to live. And you've
+got things for us--them--to eat to-night. You don't grudge me just a
+bit of supper, do you? You'd think it was less trouble for me to have
+my bit of supper with you all, than in a separate room. That's all I'm
+thinking of--the trouble----"
+
+William's sister turned round on her ladder and faced the room.
+
+"Can't _anyone_," she said desperately, "stop that child talking?"
+
+William's brother began to descend his ladder. "I think I can," he
+said grimly.
+
+But William had thrown dignity to the winds, and fled.
+
+He went down the hall to the kitchen, where cook hastily interposed
+herself between him and the table that was laden with cakes and
+jellies and other delicacies.
+
+"Now, Master William," she said sharply, "you clear out of here!"
+
+"I don't want any of your things, cook," said William, magnificently
+but untruthfully. "I only came to see how you were getting on. That's
+all I came for."
+
+"We're getting on very well indeed, thank you, Master William," she
+said with sarcastic politeness, "but nothing for you till to-morrow,
+when we can see how much they've left."
+
+She returned to her task of cutting sandwiches. William, from a
+respectful distance, surveyed the table with its enticing burden.
+
+"Huh!" he ejaculated bitterly, "think of them sitting and stuffing,
+and stuffing, and stuffing away at _our_ food all night! I don't
+suppose they'll leave much--not if I know the set that lives round
+here!"
+
+"Don't judge them all by yourself, Master William," said cook
+unkindly, keeping a watchful eye upon him. "Here, Emma, put that
+rice-mould away in the pantry. It's for to-morrow's lunch."
+
+Rice-mould! That reminded him.
+
+"Cook," he said ingratiatingly, "are you going to make cream
+blanc-mange?"
+
+"I am _not_, Master William," she said firmly.
+
+"Well," he said, with a short laugh, "it'll be a queer party without
+cream blanc-mange! I've never heard of a party without cream
+blanc-mange! They'll think it's a bit funny. No one ever gives a party
+round here without cream blanc-mange!"
+
+"Don't they indeed, Master William," said cook, with ironic interest.
+
+"No. You'll be making one, p'raps, later on--just a little one, won't
+you?"
+
+"And why should I?"
+
+"Well, I'd like to think they had a cream blanc-mange. I think they'd
+enjoy it. That's all I'm thinking of."
+
+"Oh, is it? Well, it's your ma that tells me what to make and pays me
+for it, not you."
+
+This was a novel idea to William.
+
+He thought deeply.
+
+"Look here!" he said at last, "if I gave you,"--he paused for effect,
+then brought out the startling offer--"sixpence, would you make a
+cream blanc-mange?"
+
+"I'd want to see your sixpence first," said cook, with a wink at Emma.
+
+William retired upstairs to his bedroom and counted out his
+money--twopence was all he possessed. He had expended the enormous sum
+of a shilling the day before on a grass snake. It had died in the
+night. He _must_ get a cream blanc-mange somehow. His reputation for
+omnipotence in the eyes of the little girl next door--a reputation
+very dear to him--depended on it. And if cook would do it for sixpence,
+he must find sixpence. By fair means or foul it must be done. He'd tried
+fair means, and there only remained foul. He went softly downstairs to
+the dining-room, where, upon the mantel-piece, reposed the missionary-box.
+He'd tell someone next day, or put it back, or something. Anyway, people
+did worse things than that in the pictures. With a knife from the table
+he extracted the contents--three-halfpence! He glared at it balefully.
+
+"Three-halfpence!" he said aloud in righteous indignation. "This
+supposed to be a Christian house, and three-halfpence is all they can
+give to the poor heathen. They can spend pounds and pounds on,"--he
+glanced round the room and saw a pyramid of pears on the
+sideboard--"tons of pears an'--an' green stuff to put on the walls,
+and they give three-halfpence to the poor heathen! Huh!"
+
+He opened the door and heard his sister's voice from the library.
+"He's probably in mischief somewhere. He'll be a perfect nuisance all
+the evening. Mother, couldn't you make him go to bed an hour earlier?"
+
+William had no doubt as to the subject of the conversation. _Make him
+go to bed early!_ He'd like to see them! He'd just like to see them!
+And he'd show them, anyway. Yes, he would show them. Exactly what he
+would show them and how he would show them, he was not as yet very
+clear. He looked round the room again. There were no eatables in it so
+far except the piled-up plate of huge pears on the sideboard.
+
+He looked at it longingly. They'd probably counted them and knew just
+how many there ought to be. Mean sort of thing they would do. And
+they'd be in counting them every other minute just to see if he'd
+taken one. Well, he was going to score off somebody, somehow. Make him
+go to bed early indeed! He stood with knit brows, deep in thought,
+then his face cleared and he smiled. He'd got it! For the next five
+minutes he munched the delicious pears, but, at the end, the piled-up
+pyramid was apparently exactly as he found it, not a pear gone,
+only--on the inner side of each pear, the side that didn't show, was a
+huge semicircular bite. William wiped his mouth with his coat sleeve.
+They were jolly good pears. And a blissful vision came to him of the
+faces of the guests as they took the pears, of the faces of his
+father and mother and Robert and Ethel. Oh, crumbs! He chuckled to
+himself as he went down to the kitchen again.
+
+"I say, cook, could you make a small one--quite a small one--for
+threepence-halfpenny?"
+
+Cook laughed.
+
+"I was only pulling your leg, Master William. I've got one made and
+locked up in the larder."
+
+"That's all right," said William. "I--wanted them to have a cream
+blanc-mange, that's all."
+
+"Oh, _they'll_ have it all right; they won't leave much for you. I
+only made _one_!"
+
+"Did you say locked in the larder?" said William carelessly. "It must
+be a bother for you to _lock_ the larder door each time you go in?"
+
+"Oh, no trouble, Master William, thank you," said cook sarcastically;
+"there's more than the cream blanc-mange there; there's pasties and
+cakes and other things. I'm thinking of the last party your ma gave!"
+
+William had the grace to blush. On that occasion William and a friend
+had spent the hour before supper in the larder, and supper had to be
+postponed while fresh provisions were beaten up from any and every
+quarter. William had passed a troubled night and spent the next day in
+bed.
+
+"Oh, _then_! That was a long time ago. I was only a kid then."
+
+"Umph!" grunted cook. Then, relenting, "Well, if there's any cream
+blanc-mange left I'll bring it up to you in bed. Now that's a promise.
+Here, Emma, put these sandwiches in the larder. Here's the key! Now
+mind you _lock it_ after you!"
+
+"Cook! Just come here for a minute."
+
+It was the voice of William's mother from the library. William's heart
+rose. With cook away from the scene of action great things might
+happen. Emma took the dish of sandwiches, unlocked the pantry door,
+and entered. There was a crash of crockery from the back kitchen. Emma
+fled out, leaving the door unlocked. After she had picked up several
+broken plates, which had unaccountably slipped from the shelves, she
+returned and locked the pantry door.
+
+William, in the darkness within, heaved a sigh of relief. He was in,
+anyway; how he was going to get out he wasn't quite sure. He stood for
+a few minutes in rapt admiration of his own cleverness. He'd scored
+off cook! Crumbs! He'd scored off cook! So far, at any rate. The first
+thing to do was to find the cream blanc-mange. He found it at last and
+sat down with it on the bread-pan to consider his next step.
+
+Suddenly he became aware of two green eyes staring at him in the
+darkness. The cat was in too! Crumbs! The cat was in too! The cat,
+recognising its inveterate enemy, set up a vindictive wail. William
+grew cold with fright. The rotten old cat was going to give the show
+away!
+
+"Here, Pussy! Good ole Pussy!" he whispered hoarsely. "Nice ole Pussy!
+Good ole Pussy!"
+
+The cat gazed at him in surprise. This form of address from William
+was unusual.
+
+"Good ole Pussy!" went on William feverishly. "Shut up, then. Here's
+some nice blanc-mange. Just have a bit. Go on, have a bit and shut
+up."
+
+He put the dish down on the larder floor before the cat, and the cat,
+after a few preliminary licks, decided that it was good. William sat
+watching for a bit. Then he came to the conclusion that it was no use
+wasting time, and began to sample the plates around him. He ate a
+whole jelly, and then took four sandwiches off each plate, and four
+cakes and pasties off each plate. He had learnt wisdom since the last
+party. Meanwhile, the cat licked away at the cream blanc-mange with
+every evidence of satisfaction. It even began to purr, and as its
+satisfaction increased so did the purr. It possessed a peculiar
+penetrating purr.
+
+"Cook!" called out Emma from the kitchen.
+
+Cook came out of the library where she was assisting with the festoon
+hanging. "What's the matter?"
+
+"There's a funny buzzing noise in the larder."
+
+"Well, go in and see what it is. It's probably a wasp, that's all."
+
+Emma approached with the key, and William, clasping the blanc-mange to
+his bosom, withdrew behind the door, slipping off his shoes in
+readiness for action.
+
+"Poor Puss!" said Emma, opening the door and meeting the cat's green,
+unabashed gaze. "Did it get shut up in the nasty dark larder, then?
+Who did it, then?"
+
+She was bending down with her back to William, stroking the cat in the
+doorway. William seized his chance. He dashed past her and up the
+stairs in stockinged feet like a flash of lightning. But Emma, leaning
+over the cat, had espied a dark flying figure out of the corner of her
+eye. She set up a scream. Out of the library came William's mother,
+William's sister, William's brother, and cook.
+
+"A burglar in the larder!" gasped Emma. "I seed 'im, I did! Out of the
+corner of my eye, like, and when I looked up 'e wasn't there no more.
+Flittin' up the 'all like a shadder, 'e was. Oh, lor! It's fairly
+turned me inside! Oh, lor!"
+
+"What rubbish!" said William's mother. "Emma, you must control
+yourself!"
+
+"I went into the larder myself 'm," said cook indignantly, "just
+before I came in to 'elp with the greenery ornaments, and it was
+hempty as--hair. It's all that silly Emma! Always 'avin' the jumps,
+she is----"
+
+"Where's William?" said William's mother with sudden suspicion.
+"William!"
+
+William came out of his bedroom and looked over the balusters.
+
+"Yes, mother," he said, with that wondering innocence of voice and
+look which he had brought to a fine art, and which proved one of his
+greatest assets in times of stress and strain.
+
+"What are you doing?"
+
+"Jus' readin' quietly in my room, mother."
+
+"Oh, for heaven's sake don't disturb him, then," said William's
+sister.
+
+"It's those silly books you read, Emma. You're always imagining
+things. If you'd read the ones I recommend, instead of the foolish
+ones you will get hold of----"
+
+William's mother was safely mounted on one of her favourite
+hobby-horses. William withdrew to his room and carefully concealed the
+cream blanc-mange beneath his bed. He then waited till he heard the
+guests arrive and exchange greetings in the hall. William, listening
+with his door open, carefully committed to memory the voice and manner
+of his sister's greeting to her friends. That would come in useful
+later on, probably. No weapon of offence against the world in general
+and his own family in particular, was to be despised. He held a
+rehearsal in his room when the guests were all safely assembled in the
+drawing-room.
+
+"Oh, _how_ are you, Mrs. Green?" he said in a high falsetto, meant to
+represent the feminine voice. "And how's the _darling_ baby? _Such_ a
+duck! I'm dying to see him again! Oh, Delia, darling! There you are!
+_So_ glad you could come! What a perfect darling of a dress, my dear.
+I know whose heart you'll break in that! Oh, Mr. Thompson!"--here
+William languished, bridled and ogled in a fashion seen nowhere on
+earth except in his imitations of his sister when engaged in
+conversation with one of the male sex. If reproduced at the right
+moment, it was guaranteed to drive her to frenzy, "I'm _so_ glad to
+see you. Yes, of course I really am! I wouldn't say it if I wasn't!"
+
+The drawing-room door opened and a chatter of conversation and a
+rustling of dresses arose from the hall. Oh, crumbs! They were going
+in to supper. Yes, the dining-room door closed; the coast was clear.
+William took out the rather battered-looking delicacy from under the
+bed and considered it thoughtfully. The dish was big and awkwardly
+shaped. He must find something that would go under his coat better
+than that. He couldn't march through the hall and out of the front
+door, bearing a cream blanc-mange, naked and unashamed. And the back
+door through the kitchen was impossible. With infinite care but little
+success as far as the shape of the blanc-mange was concerned, he
+removed it from its dish on to his soap-dish. He forgot, in the
+excitement of the moment, to remove the soap, but, after all, it was
+only a small piece. The soap-dish was decidedly too small for it, but,
+clasped to William's bosom inside his coat, it could be partly
+supported by his arm outside. He descended the stairs cautiously. He
+tip-toed lightly past the dining-room door (which was slightly ajar),
+from which came the shrill, noisy, meaningless, conversation of the
+grown-ups. He was just about to open the front door when there came
+the sound of a key turning in the lock.
+
+William's heart sank. He had forgotten the fact that his father
+generally returned from his office about this time.
+
+William's father came into the hall and glanced at his youngest
+offspring suspiciously.
+
+"Hello!" he said, "where are you going?"
+
+William cleared his throat nervously.
+
+"Me?" he questioned lightly. "Oh, I was jus'--jus' goin' a little walk
+up the road before I went to bed. That's all I was goin' to do,
+father."
+
+Flop! A large segment of the cream blanc-mange had disintegrated
+itself from the fast-melting mass, and, evading William's encircling
+arm, had fallen on to the floor at his feet. With praiseworthy
+presence of mind William promptly stepped on to it and covered it with
+his feet. William's father turned round quickly from the stand where
+he was replacing his walking stick.
+
+"What was that?"
+
+William looked round the hall absently. "What, father?"
+
+William's father now fastened his eyes upon William's person.
+
+"What have you got under your coat?"
+
+"Where?" said William with apparent surprise.
+
+Then, looking down at the damp excrescence of his coat, as if he
+noticed it for the first time, "Oh, that!" with a mirthless smile. "Do
+you mean _that_? Oh, that's jus'--jus' somethin' I'm takin' out with
+me, that's all."
+
+Again William's father grunted.
+
+"Well," he said, "if you're going for this walk up the road why on
+earth don't you go, instead of standing as if you'd lost the use of
+your feet?"
+
+William's father was hanging up his overcoat with his back to William,
+and the front door was open. William wanted no second bidding. He
+darted out of the door and down the drive, but he was just in time to
+hear the thud of a falling body, and to hear a muttered curse as the
+Head of the House entered the dining-room feet first on a long slide
+of some white, glutinous substance.
+
+"Oh, crumbs!" gasped William as he ran.
+
+The little girl next door was sitting in the summer-house, armed with
+a spoon, when William arrived. His precious burden had now saturated
+his shirt and was striking cold and damp on his chest. He drew it from
+his coat and displayed it proudly. It had certainly lost its pristine,
+white, rounded appearance. The marks of the cat's licks were very
+evident; grime from William's coat adhered to its surface; it wobbled
+limply over the soap dish, but the little girl's eyes sparkled as she
+saw it.
+
+"Oh, William, I never thought you really would! Oh, you are wonderful!
+And I _had_ it!"
+
+"What?"
+
+"Rice-mould for supper, but I didn't mind, because I thought--I hoped,
+you'd come with it. Oh, William, you _are a nice_ boy!"
+
+William glowed with pride.
+
+"William!" bellowed an irate voice from William's front door.
+
+William knew that voice. It was the voice of the male parent who has
+stood all he's jolly well going to stand from that kid, and is out for
+vengeance. They'd got to the pears! Oh, crumbs! They'd got to the
+pears! And even the thought of Nemesis to come could not dull for
+William the bliss of that vision.
+
+[Illustration: WILLIAM LEANT BACK IN A SUPERIOR, BENEVOLENT MANNER AND
+WATCHED THE SMILE FREEZE UPON HER FACE AND HER LOOK OF ECSTASY CHANGE
+TO ONE OF FURY.]
+
+"Oh, William," said the little girl next door sadly, "they're calling
+you. Will you have to go?"
+
+"Not me," said William earnestly. "I'm not going--not till they fetch
+me. Here! you begin. I don't want any. I've had lots of things. You
+eat it all."
+
+Her face radiant with anticipation, the little girl took up her spoon.
+
+William leant back in a superior, benevolent manner and watched the
+smile freeze upon her face and her look of ecstasy change to one of
+fury. With a horrible suspicion at his heart he seized the spoon she
+had dropped and took a mouthful himself.
+
+_He had brought the rice-mould by mistake!_
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+WILLIAM'S BURGLAR
+
+
+When William first saw him he was leaning against the wall of the
+White Lion, gazing at the passers-by with a moody smile upon his
+villainous-looking countenance.
+
+It was evident to any careful observer that he had not confined his
+attentions to the exterior of the White Lion.
+
+William, at whose heels trotted his beloved mongrel (rightly named
+Jumble), was passing him with a casual glance, when something
+attracted his attention. He stopped and looked back, then, turning
+round, stood in front of the tall, untidy figure, gazing up at him
+with frank and unabashed curiosity.
+
+"Who cut 'em off?" he said at last in an awed whisper.
+
+The figure raised his hands and stroked the long hair down the side of
+his face.
+
+"Now yer arskin'," he said with a grin.
+
+"Well, who _did_?" persisted William.
+
+"That 'ud be tellin'," answered his new friend, moving unsteadily
+from one foot to the other. "See?"
+
+"You got 'em cut off in the war," said William firmly.
+
+"I didn't. I bin in the wor orl right. Stroike me pink, I bin in the
+wor and _that's_ the truth. But I didn't get 'em cut orf in the wor.
+Well, I'll stop kiddin' yer. I'll tell yer strite. I never 'ad none.
+_Nar!_"
+
+William stood on tiptoe to peer under the untidy hair at the small
+apertures that in his strange new friend took the place of ears.
+Admiration shone in William's eyes.
+
+"Was you _born_ without 'em?" he said enviously.
+
+His friend nodded.
+
+"Nar don't yer go torkin' about it," he went on modestly, though
+seeming to bask in the sun of William's evident awe and respect. "I
+don't want all folks knowin' 'bout it. See? It kinder _marks_ a man,
+this 'ere sort of thing. See? Makes 'im too easy to _track_, loike.
+That's why I grow me hair long. See? 'Ere, 'ave a drink?"
+
+He put his head inside the window of the White Lion and roared out
+"Bottle o' lemonide fer the young gent."
+
+William followed him to a small table in the little sunny porch, and
+his heart swelled with pride as he sat and quaffed his beverage with a
+manly air. His friend, who said his name was Mr. Blank, showed a most
+flattering interest in him. He elicited from him the whereabouts of
+his house and the number of his family, a description of the door and
+window fastenings, of the dining-room silver and his mother's
+jewellery.
+
+William, his eyes fixed with a fascinated stare upon Mr. Blank's ears,
+gave the required information readily, glad to be able in any way to
+interest this intriguing and mysterious being.
+
+"Tell me about the war," said William at last.
+
+"It were orl right while it larsted," said Mr. Blank with a sigh. "It
+were orl right, but I s'pose, like mos' things in this 'ere world, it
+couldn't larst fer ever. See?"
+
+William set down the empty glass of lemonade and leant across the
+table, almost dizzy with the romance of the moment. Had Douglas, had
+Henry, had Ginger, had any of those boys who sat next him at school
+and joined in the feeble relaxations provided by the authorities out
+of school, ever done _this_--ever sat at a real table outside a real
+public-house drinking lemonade and talking to a man with no ears who'd
+fought in the war and who looked as if he might have done _anything_?
+
+Jumble, meanwhile, sat and snapped at flies, frankly bored.
+
+"Did you"--said William in a sibilant whisper--"did you ever _kill_
+anyone?"
+
+Mr. Blank laughed a laugh that made William's blood curdle.
+
+"Me kill anyone? Me kill anyone? _'Ondreds!_"
+
+William breathed a sigh of satisfaction. Here was romance and
+adventure incarnate.
+
+"What do you do now the war's over?"
+
+Mr. Blank closed one eye.
+
+"That 'ud be tellin', wudn't it?"
+
+[Illustration: "DID YOU"--SAID WILLIAM IN A SIBILANT WHISPER--"DID YOU
+EVER _KILL_ ANYONE?"]
+
+"I'll keep it awfully secret," pleaded William. "I'll never tell
+anyone."
+
+Mr. Blank shook his head.
+
+"What yer want ter know fer, anyway?" he said.
+
+William answered eagerly, his eyes alight.
+
+"'Cause I'd like to do jus' the same when I grow up."
+
+Mr. Blank flung back his head and emitted guffaw after guffaw of
+unaffected mirth.
+
+"Oh 'ell," he said, wiping his eyes. "Oh, stroike me pink! That's
+good, that is. You wait, young gent, you wait till you've growed up
+and see what yer pa says to it. Oh 'ell!"
+
+He rose and pulled his cap down over his eyes.
+
+"Well, I'll say good day to yer, young gent."
+
+William looked at him wistfully.
+
+"I'd like to see you again, Mr. Blank, I would, honest. Will you be
+here this afternoon?"
+
+"Wot d'yer want to see me agine fer?" said Mr. Blank suspiciously.
+
+"I _like_ you," said William fervently. "I like the way you talk, and
+I like the things you say, and I want to know about what you do!"
+
+Mr. Blank was obviously flattered.
+
+"I may be round 'ere agine this arter, though I mike no promise. See?
+I've gotter be careful, I 'ave. I've gotter be careful 'oo sees me an'
+'oo 'ears me, and where I go. That's the worst of 'aving no ears.
+See?"
+
+William did not see, but he was thrilled to the soul by the mystery.
+
+"An' you don't tell no one you seen me nor nothing abart me," went on
+Mr. Blank.
+
+Pulling his cap still farther over his head, Mr. Blank set off
+unsteadily down the road, leaving William to pay for his lemonade
+with his last penny.
+
+He walked home, his heart set firmly on a lawless career of crime.
+Opposition he expected from his father and mother and Robert and
+Ethel, but his determination was fixed. He wondered if it would be
+very painful to have his ears cut off.
+
+He entered the dining-room with an air of intense mystery, pulling his
+cap over his eyes, and looking round in a threatening manner.
+
+"William, what _do_ you mean by coming into the house in your cap?
+Take it off at once."
+
+William sighed. He wondered if Mr. Blank had a mother.
+
+When he returned he sat down and began quietly to remodel his life. He
+would not be an explorer, after all, nor an engine-driver nor
+chimney-sweep. He would be a man of mystery, a murderer, fighter,
+forger. He fingered his ears tentatively. They seemed fixed on jolly
+fast. He glanced with utter contempt at his father who had just come
+in. His father's life of blameless respectability seemed to him at
+that minute utterly despicable.
+
+"The Wilkinsons over at Todfoot have had their house broken into now,"
+Mrs. Brown was saying. "_All_ her jewellery gone. They think it's a
+gang. It's just the villages round here. There seems to be one every
+day!"
+
+William expressed his surprise.
+
+"Oh, 'ell!" he ejaculated, with a slightly self-conscious air.
+
+Mr. Brown turned round and looked at his son.
+
+"May I ask," he said politely, "where you picked up that expression?"
+
+"I got it off one of my fren's," said William with quiet pride.
+
+"Then I'd take it as a personal favour," went on Mr. Brown, "if you'd
+kindly refrain from airing your friends' vocabularies in this house."
+
+"He means you're never to say it again, William," translated Mrs.
+Brown sternly. "_Never._"
+
+"All right," said William. "I won't. See? I da--jolly well won't.
+Strike me pink. See?"
+
+He departed with an air of scowling mystery and dignity combined,
+leaving his parents speechless with amazement.
+
+That afternoon he returned to the White Lion. Mr. Blank was standing
+unobtrusively in the shadow of the wall.
+
+"'Ello, young gent," he greeted William, "nice dorg you've got."
+
+William looked proudly down at Jumble.
+
+"You won't find," he said proudly and with some truth, "you won't find
+another dog like this--not for _miles_!"
+
+"Will 'e be much good as a watch dog, now?" asked Mr. Blank
+carelessly.
+
+"Good?" said William, almost indignant at the question. "There isn't
+any sort of dog he isn't good at!"
+
+"Umph," said Mr. Blank, looking at him thoughtfully.
+
+"Tell me about things you've _done_," said William earnestly.
+
+"Yus, I will, too," said Mr. Blank. "But jus' you tell me first 'oo
+lives at all these 'ere nice 'ouses an' all about 'em. See?"
+
+[Illustration: WILLIAM DEPARTED WITH AN AIR OF SCOWLING MYSTERY,
+LEAVING HIS PARENTS SPEECHLESS WITH AMAZEMENT]
+
+William readily complied, and the strange couple gradually wended
+their way along the road towards William's house. William stopped at
+the gate and considered deeply. He was torn between instincts of
+hospitality and a dim suspicion that his family would not afford to
+Mr. Blank that courtesy which is a guest's due. He looked at Mr.
+Blank's old green-black cap, long, untidy hair, dirty, lined, sly old
+face, muddy clothes and gaping boots, and decided quite finally that
+his mother would not allow him in her drawing-room.
+
+"Will you," he said tentatively, "will you come roun' an' see our back
+garden? If we go behind these ole bushes and keep close along the
+wall, no one'll see us."
+
+To William's relief Mr. Blank did not seem to resent the suggestion of
+secrecy. They crept along the wall in silence except for Jumble, who
+loudly worried Mr. Blank's trailing boot-strings as he walked. They
+reached a part of the back garden that was not visible from the house
+and sat down together under a shady tree.
+
+"P'raps," began Mr. Blank politely, "you could bring a bit o' tea out
+to me on the quiet like."
+
+"I'll ask mother----" began William.
+
+"Oh, no," said Mr. Blank modestly. "I don't want ter give no one no
+trouble. Just a slice o' bread, if you can find it, without troublin'
+no one. See?"
+
+William had a brilliant idea.
+
+"Let's go 'cross to that window an' get in," he said eagerly. "That's
+the lib'ry and no one uses it 'cept father, and he's not in till
+later."
+
+Mr. Blank insisted on tying Jumble up, then he swung himself
+dexterously through the window. William gave a gasp of admiration.
+
+"You did that fine," he said.
+
+Again Mr. Blank closed one eye.
+
+"Not the first time I've got in at a winder, young gent, nor the
+larst, I bet. Not by a long way. See?"
+
+William followed more slowly. His eye gleamed with pride. This hero of
+romance and adventure was now his guest, under his roof.
+
+"Make yourself quite at home, Mr. Blank," he said with an air of
+intense politeness.
+
+Mr. Blank did. He emptied Mr. Brown's cigar-box into his pocket. He
+drank three glasses of Mr. Brown's whiskey and soda. While William's
+back was turned he filled his pockets with the silver ornaments from
+the mantel-piece. He began to inspect the drawers in Mr. Brown's desk.
+Then:
+
+[Illustration: MR. BLANK MADE HIMSELF QUITE AT HOME]
+
+"William! Come to tea!"
+
+"You stay here," whispered William. "I'll bring you some."
+
+But luck was against him. It was a visitors' tea in the drawing-room,
+and Mrs. de Vere Carter, a neighbour, there, in all her glory. She
+rose from her seat with an ecstatic murmur.
+
+"Willie! _Dear_ child! _Sweet_ little soul!"
+
+With one arm she crushed the infuriated William against her belt, with
+the other she caressed his hair. Then William in moody silence sat
+down in a corner and began to eat bread and butter. Every time he
+prepared to slip a piece into his pocket, he found his mother's or
+Mrs. de Vere Carter's eye fixed upon him and hastily began to eat it
+himself. He sat, miserable and hot, seeing only the heroic figure
+starving in the next room, and planned a raid on the larder as soon as
+he could reasonably depart. Every now and then he scowled across at
+Mrs. de Vere Carter and made a movement with his hands as though
+pulling a cap over his eyes. He invested even his eating with an air
+of dark mystery.
+
+Then Robert, his elder brother, came in, followed by a thin, pale man
+with eye-glasses and long hair.
+
+"This is Mr. Lewes, mother," said Robert with an air of pride and
+triumph. "He's editor of _Fiddle Strings_."
+
+There was an immediate stir and sensation. Robert had often talked of
+his famous friend. In fact Robert's family was weary of the sound of
+his name, but this was the first time Robert had induced him to leave
+the haunts of his genius to visit the Brown household.
+
+Mr. Lewes bowed with a set, stern, self-conscious expression, as
+though to convey to all that his celebrity was more of a weight than a
+pleasure to him. Mrs. de Vere Carter bridled and fluttered, for
+_Fiddle Strings_ had a society column and a page of scrappy "News of
+the Town," and Mrs. de Vere Carter's greatest ambition was to see her
+name in print.
+
+Mr. Lewes sat back in his chair, took his tea-cup as though it were a
+fresh addition to his responsibilities, and began to talk. He talked
+apparently without even breathing. He began on the weather, drifted on
+to art and music, and was just beginning a monologue on The Novel,
+when William rose and crept from the room like a guilty spirit. He
+found Mr. Blank under the library table, having heard a noise in the
+kitchen and fearing a visitor. A cigar and a silver snuffer had
+fallen from his pocket to the floor. He hastily replaced them. William
+went up and took another look at the wonderful ears and heaved a sigh
+of relief. While parted from his strange friend he had had a horrible
+suspicion that the whole thing was a dream.
+
+"I'll go to the larder and get you sumthin'," he said. "You jus' stay
+here."
+
+"I think, young gent," said Mr. Blank, "I think I'll just go an' look
+round upstairs on the quiet like, an' you needn't mention it to no
+one. See?"
+
+Again he performed the fascinating wink.
+
+They crept on tiptoe into the hall, but--the drawing-room door was
+ajar.
+
+"William!"
+
+William's heart stood still. He could hear his mother coming across
+the room, then--she stood in the doorway. Her face filled with horror
+as her eye fell upon Mr. Blank.
+
+"_William!_" she said.
+
+William's feelings were beyond description. Desperately he sought for
+an explanation for his friend's presence. With what pride and
+_sang-froid_ had Robert announced his uninvited guest! William
+determined to try it, at any rate. He advanced boldly into the
+drawing-room.
+
+"This is Mr. Blank, mother," he announced jauntily. "He hasn't got no
+ears."
+
+Mr. Blank stood in the background, awaiting developments. Flight was
+now impossible.
+
+The announcement fell flat. There was nothing but horror upon the five
+silent faces that confronted William. He made a last desperate effort.
+
+"He's bin in the war," he pleaded. "He's--killed folks."
+
+Then the unexpected happened.
+
+Mrs. de Vere Carter rose with a smile of welcome. In her mind's eye
+she saw the touching story already in print--the tattered hero--the
+gracious lady--the age of Democracy. The stage was laid and that dark,
+pale young man had only to watch and listen.
+
+"Ah, one of our dear heroes! My poor, brave man! A cup of tea, my
+dear," turning to William's thunderstruck mother. "And he may sit
+down, may he not?" She kept her face well turned towards the
+sardonic-looking Mr. Lewes. He must not miss a word or gesture. "How
+_proud_ we are to do anything for our dear heroes! Wounded, perhaps?
+Ah, poor man!" She floated across to him with a cup of tea and plied
+him with bread and butter and cake. William sat down meekly on a
+chair, looking rather pale. Mr. Blank, whose philosophy was to take
+the goods the gods gave and not look to the future, began to make a
+hearty meal. "Are you looking for work, my poor man?" asked Mrs. de
+Vere Carter, leaning forward in her chair.
+
+Her poor man replied with simple, manly directness that he "was dam'd
+if he was. See?" Mr. Lewes began to discuss The Drama with Robert.
+Mrs. de Vere Carter raised her voice.
+
+"_How_ you must have suffered! Yes, there is suffering ingrained in
+your face. A piece of shrapnel? Ten inches square? Right in at one hip
+and out at the other? Oh, my poor man! _How_ I feel for you. How all
+class distinctions vanish at such a time. How----"
+
+[Illustration: "ARE YOU LOOKING FOR WORK, MY POOR MAN?" ASKED MRS. DE
+VERE CARTER.]
+
+She stopped while Mr. Blank drank his tea. In fact, all conversation
+ceased while Mr. Blank drank his tea, just as conversation on a
+station ceases while a train passes through.
+
+Mrs. Brown looked helplessly around her. When Mr. Blank had eaten a
+plate of sandwiches, a plate of bread and butter, and half a cake, he
+rose slowly, keeping one hand over the pocket in which reposed the
+silver ornaments.
+
+"Well 'm," he said, touching his cap. "Thank you kindly. I've 'ad a
+fine tea. I 'ave. A dam' fine tea. An' I'll not forget yer kindness to
+a pore ole soldier." Here he winked brazenly at William. "An' good day
+ter you orl."
+
+Mrs. de Vere Carter floated out to the front door with him, and
+William followed as in a dream.
+
+Mrs. Brown found her voice.
+
+"We'd better have the chair disinfected," she murmured to Ethel.
+
+Then Mrs. de Vere Carter returned smiling to herself and eyeing the
+young editor surmisingly.
+
+"I witnessed a pretty scene the other day in a suburban
+drawing-room...." It might begin like that.
+
+William followed the amazing figure round the house again to the
+library window. Here it turned to him with a friendly grin.
+
+"I'm just goin' to 'ave that look round upstairs now. See?" he said.
+"An' once more, yer don't need ter say nothin' to no one. See?"
+
+With the familiar, beloved gesture he drew his old cap down over his
+eyes, and was gone.
+
+William wandered upstairs a few minutes later to find his visitor
+standing at the landing window, his pockets bulging.
+
+"I'm goin' to try this 'ere window, young gent," he said in a quick,
+business-like voice. "I see yer pa coming in at the front gate. Give
+me a shove. Quick, nar."
+
+Mr. Brown entered the drawing-room.
+
+"Mulroyd's had his house burgled now," he said. "Every bit of his
+wife's jewellery gone. They've got some clues, though. It's a gang all
+right, and one of them is a chap without ears. Grows his hair long to
+hide it. But it's a clue. The police are hunting for him."
+
+He looked in amazement at the horror-stricken faces before him. Mrs.
+Brown sat down weakly.
+
+"Ethel, my smelling salts! They're on the mantel-piece."
+
+Robert grew pale.
+
+"Good Lord--my silver cricket cup," he gasped, racing upstairs.
+
+The landing window had been too small, and Mr. Blank too big, though
+William did his best.
+
+There came to the astounded listeners the sound of a fierce scuffle,
+then Robert descended, his hair rumpled and his tie awry, holding
+William by the arm. William looked pale and apprehensive. "He was
+there," panted Robert, "just getting out of the window. He chucked the
+things out of his pockets and got away. I couldn't stop him. And--and
+William was there----"
+
+William's face assumed the expression of one who is prepared for the
+worst.
+
+"The plucky little chap! Struggling with him! Trying to pull him back
+from the window! All by himself!"
+
+"I _wasn't_," cried William excitedly. "I was _helping_ him. He's _my
+friend_. I----"
+
+But they heard not a word. They crowded round him, praised him, shook
+hands with him, asked if he was hurt. Mrs. de Vere Carter kept up one
+perpetual scream of delight and congratulation.
+
+"The _dear_ boy! The little _pet_! How _brave_! What _courage_! What
+an _example_ to us all! And the horrid, wretched man! Posing as a
+_hero_. Wangling himself into the sweet child's confidence. Are you
+hurt, my precious? Did the nasty man hurt you? You _darling_ boy!"
+
+When the babel had somewhat subsided, Mr. Brown came forward and laid
+a hand on William's shoulder.
+
+"I'm very pleased with you, my boy," he said. "You can buy anything
+you like to-morrow up to five shillings."
+
+William's bewildered countenance cleared.
+
+"Thank you, father," he said meekly.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+THE KNIGHT AT ARMS
+
+
+"A knight," said Miss Drew, who was struggling to inspire her class
+with enthusiasm for Tennyson's "Idylls of the King," "a knight was a
+person who spent his time going round succouring the oppressed."
+
+"Suckin' wot?" said William, bewildered.
+
+"Succour means to help. He spent his time helping anyone who was in
+trouble."
+
+"How much did he get for it?" asked William.
+
+"Nothing, of course," said Miss Drew, appalled by the base
+commercialism of the twentieth century. "He helped the poor because he
+_loved_ them, William. He had a lot of adventures and fighting and he
+helped beautiful, persecuted damsels."
+
+William's respect for the knight rose.
+
+"Of course," said Miss Drew hastily, "they needn't necessarily be
+beautiful, but, in most of the stories we have, they were beautiful."
+
+Followed some stories of fighting and adventure and the rescuing of
+beautiful damsels. The idea of the thing began to take hold of
+William's imagination.
+
+"I say," he said to his chum Ginger after school, "that knight thing
+sounds all right. Suckin'--I mean helpin' people an' fightin' an' all
+that. I wun't mind doin' it an' you could be my squire."
+
+"Yes," said Ginger slowly, "I'd thought of doin' it, but I'd thought
+of _you_ bein' the squire."
+
+"Well," said William after a pause, "let's be squires in turn. You
+first," he added hastily.
+
+"Wot'll you give me if I'm first?" said Ginger, displaying again the
+base commercialism of his age.
+
+William considered.
+
+"I'll give you first drink out of a bottle of ginger-ale wot I'm goin'
+to get with my next money. It'll be three weeks off 'cause they're
+takin' the next two weeks to pay for an ole window wot my ball slipped
+into by mistake."
+
+He spoke with the bitterness that always characterised his statements
+of the injustice of the grown-up world.
+
+"All right," said Ginger.
+
+"I won't forget about the drink of ginger-ale."
+
+"No, you won't," said Ginger simply. "I'll remind you all right. Well,
+let's set off."
+
+"'Course," said William, "it would be _nicer_ with armour an' horses
+an' trumpets, but I 'spect folks ud think anyone a bit soft wot went
+about in the streets in armour now, 'cause these times is different.
+She said so. Anyway she said we could still be knights an' help
+people, di'n't she? Anyway, I'll get my bugle. That'll be
+_something_."
+
+William's bugle had just returned to public life after one of its
+periodic terms of retirement into his father's keeping.
+
+William took his bugle proudly in one hand and his pistol (the
+glorious result of a dip in the bran tub at a school party) in the
+other, and, sternly denying themselves the pleasures of afternoon
+school, off the two set upon the road of romance and adventure.
+
+"I'll carry the bugle," said Ginger, "'cause I'm squire."
+
+William was loth to give up his treasure.
+
+"Well, I'll carry it now," he said, "but when I begin' fightin' folks,
+I'll give it you to hold."
+
+They walked along for about a mile without meeting anyone. William
+began to be aware of a sinking feeling in the region of his waist.
+
+"I wonder wot they _eat_," he said at last. "I'm gettin' so's I
+wouldn't mind sumthin' to eat."
+
+"We di'n't ought to have set off before dinner," said the squire with
+after-the-event wisdom. "We ought to have waited till _after_ dinner."
+
+"You ought to have _brought_ sumthin'," said William severely. "You're
+the squire. You're not much of a squire not to have brought sumthin'
+for me to eat."
+
+"An' me," put in Ginger. "If I'd brought any I'd have brought it for
+me more'n for you."
+
+William fingered his minute pistol.
+
+"If we meet any wild animals ..." he said darkly.
+
+A cow gazed at them mournfully over a hedge.
+
+"You might go an' milk that," suggested William. "Milk 'ud be better'n
+nothing."
+
+"_You_ go 'an milk it."
+
+"No, I'm not squire. I bet squires did the milkin'. Knights wu'n't of
+done the milkin'."
+
+"I'll remember," said Ginger bitterly, "when you're squire, all the
+things wot you said a squire ought to do when I was squire."
+
+They entered the field and gazed at the cow from a respectful
+distance. She turned her eyes upon them sadly.
+
+"Go on!" said the knight to his reluctant squire.
+
+"I'm not good at cows," objected that gentleman.
+
+"Well, I will, then!" said William with reckless bravado, and advanced
+boldly upon the animal. The animal very slightly lowered its horns
+(perhaps in sign of greeting) and emitted a sonorous mo-o-o-o-o. Like
+lightning the gallant pair made for the road.
+
+"Anyway," said William gloomily, "we'd got nothin' to put it in, so
+we'd only of got tossed for nothin', p'raps, if we'd gone on."
+
+They walked on down the road till they came to a pair of iron gates
+and a drive that led up to a big house. William's spirits rose. His
+hunger was forgotten.
+
+"Come on!" he said. "We might find someone to rescue here. It looks
+like a place where there might be someone to rescue."
+
+There was no one in the garden to question the right of entry of two
+small boys armed with a bugle and a toy pistol. Unchallenged they
+went up to the house. While the knight was wondering whether to blow
+his bugle at the front door or by the open window, they caught sight
+suddenly of a vision inside the window. It was a girl as fair and slim
+and beautiful as any wandering knight could desire. And she was
+speaking fast and passionately.
+
+William, ready for all contingencies, marshalled his forces.
+
+"Follow me!" he whispered and crept on all fours nearer the window.
+They could see a man now, an elderly man with white hair and a white
+beard.
+
+"And how long will you keep me in this vile prison?" she was saying in
+a voice that trembled with anger, "base wretch that you are!"
+
+"Crumbs!" ejaculated William.
+
+"Ha! Ha!" sneered the man. "I have you in my power. I will keep you
+here a prisoner till you sign the paper which will make me master of
+all your wealth, and beware, girl, if you do not sign, you may answer
+for it with your life!"
+
+"Golly!" murmured William.
+
+Then he crawled away into the bushes, followed by his attendant
+squire.
+
+"Well," said William, his face purple with excitement, "we've found
+someone to rescue all _right_. He's a base wretch, wot she said, all
+_right_."
+
+"Will you kill him?" said the awed squire.
+
+"How big was he? Could you see?" said William the discreet.
+
+"He was ever so big. Great big face he had, too, with a beard."
+
+"Then I won't try killin' him--not straight off. I'll think of some
+plan--somethin' cunnin'."
+
+[Illustration: WILLIAM AND GINGER FOLLOWED ON ALL FOURS WITH ELABORATE
+CAUTION.]
+
+He sat with his chin on his hands, gazing into space, till they were
+surprised by the opening of the front door and the appearance of a
+tall, thick-set, elderly man. William quivered with excitement. The
+man went along a path through the bushes. William and Ginger followed
+on all fours with elaborate caution. At every almost inaudible sound
+from Ginger, William turned his red, frowning face on to him with a
+resounding "Sh!" The path ended at a small shed with a locked door.
+The man opened the door--the key stood in the lock--and entered.
+
+Promptly William, with a snarl expressive of cunning and triumph,
+hurled himself at the door and turned the key in the lock.
+
+"Here!" came an angry shout from inside. "Who's that? What the
+devil----"
+
+"You low ole caitiff!" said William through the keyhole.
+
+"Who the deuce----?" exploded the voice.
+
+"You base wretch, like wot she said you was," bawled William, his
+mouth still applied closely to the keyhole.
+
+"Let me out at once, or I'll--"
+
+"You mean ole oppressor!"
+
+"Who the deuce are you? What's this tomfool trick? Let me _out_! Do
+you hear?"
+
+A resounding kick shook the door.
+
+"I've gotter pistol," said William sternly. "I'll shoot you dead if
+you kick the door down, you mangy ole beast!"
+
+The sound of kicking ceased and a scrambling and scraping, accompanied
+by oaths, proceeded from the interior.
+
+"I'll stay on guard," said William with the tense expression of the
+soldier at his post, "an' you go an' set her free. Go an' blow the
+bugle at the front door, then they'll know something's happened," he
+added simply.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Miss Priscilla Greene was pouring out tea in the drawing-room. Two
+young men and a maiden were the recipients of her hospitality.
+
+"Dad will be here in a minute," she said. "He's just gone to the
+dark-room to see to some photos he'd left in toning or fixing, or
+something. We'll get on with the rehearsal as soon as he comes. We'd
+just rehearsed the scene he and I have together, so we're ready for
+the ones where we all come in."
+
+"How did it go off?"
+
+"Oh, quite well. We knew our parts, anyway."
+
+"I think the village will enjoy it."
+
+"Anyway, it's never very critical, is it? And it loves a melodrama."
+
+"Yes. I wonder if father knows you're here. He said he'd come straight
+back. Perhaps I'd better go and find him."
+
+"Oh, let me go, Miss Greene," said one of the youths ardently.
+
+"Well, I don't know whether you'd find the place. It's a shed in the
+garden that he uses. We use half as a dark-room and half as a
+coal-cellar."
+
+"I'll go--"
+
+He stopped. A nightmare sound, as discordant as it was ear-splitting,
+filled the room. Miss Greene sank back into her chair, suddenly white.
+One of the young men let a cup of tea fall neatly from his fingers on
+to the floor and there crash into fragments. The young lady visitor
+emitted a scream that would have done credit to a factory siren. Then
+at the open French window appeared a small boy holding a bugle,
+purple-faced with the effort of his performance.
+
+One of the young men was the first to recover speech. He stepped away
+from the broken crockery on the floor as if to disclaim all
+responsibility for it and said sternly:
+
+"Did you make that horrible noise?"
+
+Miss Greene began to laugh hysterically.
+
+"Do have some tea now you've come," she said to Ginger.
+
+Ginger remembered the pangs of hunger, of which excitement had
+momentarily rendered him oblivious, and, deciding that there was no
+time like the present, took a cake from the stand and began to consume
+it in silence.
+
+"You'd better be careful," said the young lady to her hostess; "he
+might have escaped from the asylum. He looks mad. He had a very mad
+look, I thought, when he was standing at the window."
+
+"He's evidently hungry, anyway. I can't think why father doesn't
+come."
+
+Here Ginger, fortified by a walnut bun, remembered his mission.
+
+"It's all right now," he said. "You can go home. He's shut up. Me an'
+William shut him up."
+
+"You see!" said the young lady with a meaning glance around. "I _said_
+he was from the asylum. He looked mad. We'd better humour him and ring
+up the asylum. Have another cake, darling boy," she said in a tone of
+honeyed sweetness.
+
+Nothing loth, Ginger selected an ornate pyramid of icing.
+
+At this point there came a bellowing and crashing and tramping outside
+and Miss Priscilla's father, roaring fury and threats of vengeance,
+hurled himself into the room. Miss Priscilla's father had made his
+escape by a small window at the other end of the shed. To do this he
+had had to climb over the coals in the dark. His face and hands and
+clothes and once-white beard were covered with coal. His eyes gleamed
+whitely.
+
+[Illustration: "HE'S GOT OUT," WILLIAM SAID REPROACHFULLY. "WHY DI'N'T
+SOMEONE STOP HIM GETTIN' OUT?"]
+
+"An abominable attack ... utterly unprovoked ... dastardly ruffians!"
+
+Here he stopped to splutter because his mouth was full of coal dust.
+While he was spluttering, William, who had just discovered that his
+bird had flown, appeared at the window.
+
+"He's got out," he said reproachfully. "Look at him. He's got out. An'
+all our trouble for nothing. Why di'n't someone _stop_ him gettin'
+out?"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+William and Ginger sat on the railing that separated their houses.
+
+"It's not really much _fun_ bein' a knight," said William slowly.
+
+"No," agreed Ginger. "You never know when folks _is_ oppressed. An'
+anyway, wot's one afternoon away from school to make such a fuss
+about?"
+
+"Seems to me from wot father said," went on William gloomily, "you'll
+have to wait a jolly long time for that drink of ginger-ale."
+
+An expression of dejection came over Ginger's face.
+
+"An' you wasn't even ever squire," he said. Then he brightened.
+
+"They were jolly good cakes, wasn't they?" he said.
+
+William's lips curved into a smile of blissful reminiscence.
+
+"_Jolly_ good!" he agreed.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+WILLIAM'S HOBBY
+
+
+Uncle George was William's godfather, and he was intensely interested
+in William's upbringing. It was an interest with which William would
+gladly have dispensed. Uncle George's annual visit was to William a
+purgatory only to be endured by a resolutely philosophic attitude of
+mind and the knowledge that sooner or later it must come to an end.
+Uncle George had an ideal of what a boy should be, and it was a
+continual grief to him that William fell so short of this ideal. But
+he never relinquished his efforts to make William conform to it.
+
+His ideal was a gentle boy of exquisite courtesy and of intellectual
+pursuits. Such a boy he could have loved. It was hard that fate had
+endowed him with a godson like William. William was neither quiet nor
+gentle, nor courteous nor intellectual--but William was intensely
+human.
+
+The length of Uncle George's visit this year was beginning to reach
+the limits of William's patience. He was beginning to feel that sooner
+or later something must happen. For five weeks now he had
+(reluctantly) accompanied Uncle George upon his morning walk, he had
+(generally unsuccessfully) tried to maintain that state of absolute
+quiet that Uncle George's afternoon rest required, he had in the
+evening listened wearily to Uncle George's stories of his youth. His
+usual feeling of mild contempt for Uncle George was beginning to give
+way to one which was much stronger.
+
+"Now, William," said Uncle George at breakfast, "I'm afraid it's going
+to rain to-day, so we'll do a little work together this morning, shall
+we? Nothing like work, is there? Your Arithmetic's a bit shaky, isn't
+it? We'll rub that up. We _love_ our work, don't we?"
+
+William eyed him coldly.
+
+"I don't think I'd better get muddlin' up my school work," he said. "I
+shouldn't like to be more on than the other boys next term. It
+wouldn't be fair to them."
+
+Uncle George rubbed his hands.
+
+"That feeling does you credit, my boy," he said, "but if we go over
+some of the old work, no harm can be done. History, now. There's
+nothing like History, is there?"
+
+William agreed quite heartily that there wasn't.
+
+"We'll do some History, then," said Uncle George briskly. "The lives
+of the great. Most inspiring. Better than those terrible things you
+used to waste your time on, eh?"
+
+The "terrible things" had included a trumpet, a beloved motor hooter,
+and an ingenious instrument very dear to William's soul that
+reproduced most realistically the sound of two cats fighting. These,
+at Uncle George's request, had been confiscated by William's father.
+Uncle George had not considered them educational. They also disturbed
+his afternoon's rest.
+
+Uncle George settled himself and William down for a nice quiet morning
+in the library. William, looking round for escape, found none. The
+outside world was wholly uninviting. The rain came down in torrents.
+Moreover, the five preceding weeks had broken William's spirits. He
+realised the impossibility of evading Uncle George. His own family
+were not sympathetic. They suffered from him considerably during the
+rest of the year and were not sorry to see him absorbed completely by
+Uncle George's conscientious zeal.
+
+So Uncle George seated himself slowly and ponderously in an arm-chair
+by the fire.
+
+"When I was a boy, William," he began, leaning back and joining the
+tips of his fingers together, "I loved my studies. I'm sure you love
+your studies, don't you? Which do you love most?"
+
+"Me?" said William. "I like shootin' and playin' Red Injuns."
+
+"Yes, yes," said Uncle George impatiently, "but those aren't
+_studies_, William. You must aim at being _gentle_."
+
+"It's not much good bein' _gentle_ when you're playin' Red Injuns,"
+said William stoutly. "A _gentle_ Red Injun wun't get much done."
+
+"Ah, but why play Red Indians?" said Uncle George. "A nasty rough
+game. No, we'll talk about History. You must mould your character upon
+that of the great heroes, William. You must be a Clive, a Napoleon, a
+Wolfe."
+
+"I've often been a wolf," said William. "That game's nearly as good as
+Red Injuns. An' Bears is a good game too. We might have Bears here,"
+he went on brightening. "Jus' you an' me. Would you sooner be bear or
+hunter? I'd sooner be hunter," he hinted gently.
+
+"You misunderstand," said Uncle George. "I mean Wolfe the man, Wolfe
+the hero."
+
+William, who had little patience with heroes who came within the
+school curriculum, relapsed into gloom.
+
+"What lessons do we learn from such names, my boy?" went on Uncle
+George.
+
+William was on the floor behind Uncle George's chair endeavouring to
+turn a somersault in a very restricted space.
+
+"History lessons an' dates an' things," he said shortly. "An' the
+things they 'spect you to remember----!" he added with disgust.
+
+"No, no," said Uncle George, but the fire was hot and his chair was
+comfortable and his educational zeal was dying away, "to endure the
+buffets of fate with equanimity, to smile at misfortune, to endure
+whatever comes, and so on----"
+
+He stopped suddenly.
+
+William had managed the somersault, but it had somehow brought his
+feet into collision with Uncle George's neck. Uncle George sleepily
+shifted his position.
+
+[Illustration: WILLIAM WAS ON THE FLOOR BEHIND UNCLE GEORGE'S CHAIR
+ENDEAVOURING TO TURN A SOMERSAULT IN A VERY RESTRICTED SPACE.]
+
+"Boisterous! Boisterous!" he murmured disapprovingly. "You should
+combine the gentleness of a Moore with the courage of a Wellington,
+William."
+
+William now perceived that Uncle George's eyelids were drooping
+slowly and William's sudden statuesque calm would have surprised many
+of his instructors.
+
+The silence and the warmth of the room had their effect. In less than
+three minutes Uncle George was dead to the world around him.
+
+William's form relaxed, then he crept up to look closely at the face
+of his enemy. He decided that he disliked it intensely. Something must
+be done at once. He looked round the room. There were not many weapons
+handy. Only his mother's work-box stood on a chair by the window, and
+on it a pile of socks belonging to Robert, William's elder brother.
+Beneath either arm of his chair one of Uncle George's coat-tails
+protruded. William soon departed on his way rejoicing, while on to one
+of Uncle George's coat-tails was firmly stitched a bright blue sock
+and on to the other a brilliant orange one. Robert's taste in socks
+was decidedly loud. William felt almost happy. The rain had stopped
+and he spent the morning with some of his friends whom he met in the
+road. They went bear-hunting in the wood; and though no bears were
+found, still their disappointment was considerably allayed by the fact
+that one of them saw a mouse and another one distinctly smelt a
+rabbit. William returned to lunch whistling to himself and had the
+intense satisfaction of seeing Uncle George enter the dining-room,
+obviously roused from his slumbers by the luncheon bell, and obviously
+quite unaware of the blue and orange socks that still adorned his
+person.
+
+"Curious!" he ejaculated, as Ethel, William's grown-up sister, pointed
+out the blue sock to him. "Most curious!"
+
+William departed discreetly muttering something about "better tidy up
+a bit," which drew from his sister expressions of surprise and
+solicitous questions as to his state of health.
+
+"Most curious!" again said Uncle George, who had now discovered the
+orange sock.
+
+When William returned, all excitement was over and Uncle George was
+consuming roast beef with energy.
+
+"Ah, William," he said, "we must complete the History lesson soon.
+Nothing like History. Nothing like History. Nothing like History.
+Teaches us to endure the buffets of fate with equanimity and to smile
+at misfortune. Then we must do some Geography." William groaned. "Most
+fascinating study. Rivers, mountains, cities, etc. Most improving. The
+morning should be devoted to intellectual work at your age, William,
+and the afternoon to the quiet pursuit of--some improving hobby. You
+would then find the true joy of life."
+
+To judge from William's countenance he did not wholly agree, but he
+made no objection. He had learnt that objection was useless, and
+against Uncle George's eloquence silence was his only weapon.
+
+After lunch Uncle George followed his usual custom and retired to
+rest. William went to the shed in the back garden and continued the
+erection of a rabbit hutch that he had begun a few days before. He
+hoped that if he made a hutch, Providence would supply a rabbit. He
+whistled blithely as he knocked nails in at random.
+
+"William, you mustn't do that now."
+
+He turned a stern gaze upon his mother.
+
+"Why not?" he said.
+
+"Uncle George is resting."
+
+With a crushing glance at her he strolled away from the shed. Someone
+had left the lawn mower in the middle of the lawn. With one of his
+rare impulses of pure virtue he determined to be useful. Also, he
+rather liked mowing the grass.
+
+"William, don't do that now," called his sister from the window.
+"Uncle George is resting."
+
+He deliberately drove the mowing machine into the middle of a garden
+bed and left it there. He was beginning to feel desperate. Then:
+
+"What _can_ I do?" he said bitterly to Ethel, who was still at the
+window.
+
+"You'd better find some quiet, improving hobby," she said unkindly as
+she went away.
+
+It is a proof of the utterly broken state of William's spirit that he
+did actually begin to think of hobbies, but none of those that
+occurred to him interested him. Stamp-collecting, pressed flowers,
+crest-collecting--Ugh!
+
+He set off down the road, his hands in his pockets and his brows drawn
+into a stern frown. He amused himself by imagining Uncle George in
+various predicaments, lost on a desert island, captured by pirates,
+or carried off by an eagle. Then something in the window of a house he
+passed caught his eye and he stopped suddenly. It was a stuffed bird
+under a glass case. Now that was something _like_ a hobby, stuffing
+dead animals! He wouldn't mind having that for a hobby. And it was
+quite quiet. He could do it while Uncle George was resting. And it
+must be quite easy. The first thing to do of course was to find a dead
+animal. Any old thing would do to begin on. A dead cat or dog. He
+would do bigger ones like bears and lions later on. He spent nearly an
+hour in a fruitless search for a dead cat or dog. He searched the
+ditches on both sides of the road and several gardens. He began to
+have a distinct sense of grievance against the race of cats and dogs
+in general for not dying in his vicinity. At the end of the hour he
+found a small dead frog. It was very dry and shrivelled, but it was
+certainly a _dead_ frog and would do to begin on. He took it home in
+his pocket. He wondered what they did first in stuffing dead animals.
+He'd heard something about "tannin'" them. But what was "tannin'," and
+how did one get it? Then he remembered suddenly having heard Ethel
+talk about the "tannin'" in tea. So _that_ was all right. The first
+thing to do was to get some tea. He went to the drawing-room. It was
+empty, but upon the table near the fire was a tea-tray and two cups.
+Evidently his mother and sister had just had tea there. He put the
+frog at the bottom of a cup and carefully filled the cup with tea
+from the teapot. Then he left it to soak and went out into the garden.
+
+[Illustration: IN FROZEN SILENCE UNCLE GEORGE PUT A SPOON INTO HIS CUP
+AND INVESTIGATED THE CONTENTS. IN STILL MORE FROZEN SILENCE MRS. BROWN
+AND WILLIAM WATCHED.]
+
+A few minutes later William's mother entered the drawing-room.
+
+Uncle George had finished resting and was standing by the
+mantel-piece with a cup in his hand.
+
+"I see you poured out my tea for me," he said. "But rather a curious
+taste. Doubtless you boil the milk now. Safer, of course. Much safer.
+But it imparts a curious flavour."
+
+He took another sip.
+
+"But--I didn't pour out your tea----" began Mrs. Brown.
+
+Here William entered. He looked quickly at the table.
+
+"Who's meddlin' with my frog?" he said angrily. "It's my hobby, an'
+I'm stuffin' frogs an' someone's been an' took my frog. I left it on
+the table."
+
+"On the table?" said his mother.
+
+"Yes. In a cup of tea. Gettin' tannin.' You know. For stuffin'. I was
+puttin' him in tannin' first. I----"
+
+Uncle George grew pale. In frozen silence he put a spoon into his cup
+and investigated the contents. In still more frozen silence Mrs. Brown
+and William watched. That moment held all the cumulative horror of a
+Greek tragedy. Then Uncle George put down his cup and went silently
+from the room. On his face was the expression of one who is going to
+look up the first train home. Fate had sent him a buffet he could not
+endure with equanimity, a misfortune at which he could not smile, and
+Fate had avenged William for much.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+THE RIVALS
+
+
+William was aware of a vague feeling of apprehension when he heard
+that Joan Clive, the little girl who lived next door, was having a
+strange cousin to stay for three weeks. All his life, William had
+accepted Joan's adoration and homage with condescending indifference,
+but he did not like to imagine a possible rival.
+
+"What's he _coming_ for?" he demanded with an ungracious scowl,
+perched uncomfortably and dangerously on the high wall that separated
+the two gardens and glaring down at Joan. "What's he comin' _for_, any
+way?"
+
+"'Cause mother's invited him," explained Joan simply, with a shake of
+her golden curls. "He's called Cuthbert. She says he's a sweet little
+boy."
+
+"_Sweet!_" echoed William in a tone of exaggerated horror. "Ugh!"
+
+"Well," said Joan, with the smallest note of indignation in her voice,
+"you needn't play with him if you don't like."
+
+"_Me?_ Play? With _him_?" scowled William as if he could not believe
+his ears. "I'm not likely to go playin' with a kid like wot _he'll_
+be!"
+
+Joan raised aggrieved blue eyes.
+
+"You're a _horrid_ boy sometimes, William!" she said. "Any way, I
+shall have him to play with soon."
+
+It was the first time he had received anything but admiration from
+her.
+
+He scowled speechlessly.
+
+Cuthbert arrived the next morning.
+
+William was restless and ill-at-ease, and several times climbed the
+ladder for a glimpse of the guest, but all he could see was the garden
+inhabited only by a cat and a gardener. He amused himself by throwing
+stones at the cat till he hit the gardener by mistake and then fled
+precipitately before a storm of abuse. William and the gardener were
+enemies of very long standing. After dinner he went out again into the
+garden and stood gazing through a chink in the wall.
+
+Cuthbert was in the garden.
+
+Though as old and as tall as William, he was dressed in an embroidered
+tunic, very short knickers, and white socks. Over his blue eyes his
+curls were brushed up into a golden halo.
+
+He was a picturesque child.
+
+"What shall we do?" Joan was saying. "Would you like to play hide and
+seek?"
+
+"No; leth not play at rough gameth," said Cuthbert.
+
+With a wild spasm of joy William realised that his enemy lisped. It
+is always well to have a handle against one's enemies.
+
+"What shall we do, then?" said Joan, somewhat wearily.
+
+"Leth thit down an' I'll tell you fairy thorieth," said Cuthbert.
+
+A loud snort from inside the wall just by his ear startled him, and he
+clutched Joan's arm.
+
+"What'th that?" he said.
+
+There were sounds of clambering feet on the other side of the wall,
+then William's grimy countenance appeared.
+
+"Hello, Joan!" he said, ignoring the stranger.
+
+Joan's eyes brightened.
+
+"Come and play with us, William," she begged.
+
+"We don't want dirty little boyth," murmured Cuthbert fastidiously.
+William could not, with justice, have objected to the epithet. He had
+spent the last half-hour climbing on to the rafters of the disused
+coach-house, and dust and cobwebs adorned his face and hair.
+
+"He's _always_ like that," explained Joan, carelessly.
+
+By this time William had thought of a suitable rejoinder.
+
+"All right," he jeered, "don't look at me then. Go on tellin' fairy
+_thorieth_."
+
+Cuthbert flushed angrily.
+
+"You're a nathty rude little boy," he said. "I'll tell my mother."
+
+Thus war was declared.
+
+He came to tea the next day. Not all William's pleading could persuade
+his mother to cancel the invitation.
+
+"Well," said William darkly, "wait till you've _seen_ him, that's all.
+Wait till you've heard him _speakin'_. He can't talk even. He can't
+_play_. He tells fairy stories. He don't like _dirt_. He's got long
+hair an' a funny long coat. He's _awful_, I tell you. I don't _want_
+to have him to tea. I don't want to be washed an' all just because
+_he's_ comin' to tea."
+
+But as usual William's eloquence availed nothing.
+
+Several people came to tea that afternoon, and there was a sudden
+silence when Mrs. Clive, Joan, and Cuthbert entered. Cuthbert was in a
+white silk tunic embroidered with blue, he wore white shoes and white
+silk socks. His golden curls shone. He looked angelic.
+
+"Oh, the darling!"
+
+"Isn't he adorable?"
+
+"What a _picture_!"
+
+"Come here, sweetheart."
+
+Cuthbert was quite used to this sort of thing.
+
+They were more delighted than ever with him when they discovered his
+lisp.
+
+His manners were perfect. He raised his face, with a charming smile,
+to be kissed, then sat down on the sofa between Joan and Mrs. Clive,
+swinging long bare legs.
+
+William, sitting, an unwilling victim, on a small chair in a corner of
+the room, brushed and washed till he shone again, was conscious of a
+feeling of fury quite apart from the usual sense of outrage that he
+always felt upon such an occasion. It was bad enough to be washed till
+the soap went into his eyes and down his ears despite all his
+protests. It was bad enough to have had his hair brushed till his head
+smarted. It was bad enough to be hustled out of his comfortable jersey
+into his Eton suit which he loathed. But to see Joan, _his_ Joan,
+sitting next the strange, dressed-up, lisping boy, smiling and talking
+to him, that was almost more than he could bear with calmness.
+Previously, as has been said, he had received Joan's adoration with
+coldness, but previously there had been no rival.
+
+"William," said his mother, "take Joan and Cuthbert and show them your
+engine and books and things. Remember you're the _host_, dear," she
+murmured as he passed. "Try to make them happy."
+
+He turned upon her a glance that would have made a stronger woman
+quail.
+
+Silently he led them up to his play-room.
+
+"There's my engine, an' my books. You can play with them," he said
+coldly to Cuthbert. "Let's go and play in the garden, you and me,
+Joan." But Joan shook her head.
+
+"I don't thuppoth the'd care to go out without me," said Cuthbert
+airily. "_I'll_ go with you. Thith boy can play here if he liketh."
+
+And William, artist in vituperation as he was, could think of no
+response.
+
+He followed them into the garden, and there came upon him a wild
+determination to show his superiority.
+
+"You can't climb that tree," he began.
+
+"I can," said Cuthbert sweetly.
+
+"Well, _climb_ it then," grimly.
+
+"No, I don't want to get my thingth all methed. I _can_ climb it, but
+you can't. He can't climb it, Joan, he'th trying to pretend he can
+climb it when he can't. He knowth I can climb it, but I don't want to
+get my thingth methed."
+
+Joan smiled admiringly at Cuthbert.
+
+"I'll _show_ you," said William desperately. "I'll just _show_ you."
+
+He showed them.
+
+He climbed till the tree-top swayed with his weight, then descended,
+hot and triumphant. The tree was covered with green lichen, a great
+part of which had deposited itself upon William's suit. His efforts
+also had twisted his collar round till its stud was beneath his ear.
+His heated countenance beamed with pride.
+
+For a moment Cuthbert was nonplussed. Then he said scornfully:
+
+"Don't he look a _fright_, Joan?" Joan giggled.
+
+But William was wholly engrossed in his self-imposed task of "showing
+them." He led them to the bottom of the garden, where a small stream
+(now almost dry) disappeared into a narrow tunnel to flow under the
+road and reappear in the field at the other side.
+
+"You can't crawl through that," challenged William, "you can't _do_
+it. I've _done_ it, done it often. I bet _you_ can't. I bet you can't
+get halfway. I----"
+
+"Well, _do_ it, then!" jeered Cuthbert.
+
+William, on all fours, disappeared into the mud and slime of the small
+round aperture. Joan clasped her hands, and even Cuthbert was secretly
+impressed. They stood in silence. At intervals William's muffled voice
+came from the tunnel.
+
+"It's jolly muddy, too, I can _tell_ you."
+
+"I've caught a frog! I say, I've caught a frog!"
+
+"Crumbs! It's got away!"
+
+"It's nearly quicksands here."
+
+"If I tried I could nearly _drown_ here!"
+
+At last, through the hedge, they saw him emerge in the field across
+the road. He swaggered across to them aglow with his own heroism. As
+he entered the gate he was rewarded by the old light of adoration in
+Joan's blue eyes, but on full sight of him it quickly turned to
+consternation. His appearance was beyond description. There was a
+malicious smile on Cuthbert's face.
+
+"Do thumthing elth," he urged him. "Go on, do thumthing elth."
+
+"Oh, William," said Joan anxiously, "you'd better not."
+
+But the gods had sent madness to William. He was drunk with the sense
+of his own prowess. He was regardless of consequences.
+
+[Illustration: "I CAN CLIMB UP THAT AN' SLIDE DOWN THE COAL INSIDE.
+THAT'S WHAT I CAN DO. THERE'S NOTHIN' I CAN'T DO!" SAID WILLIAM.]
+
+He pointed to a little window high up in the coal-house.
+
+"I can climb up that an' slide down the coal inside. That's what I can
+do. There's _nothin'_ I can't do. I----"
+
+"All right," urged Cuthbert, "if you can do that, do it, and I'll
+believe you can do anything."
+
+For Cuthbert, with unholy glee, foresaw William's undoing.
+
+"Oh, William," pleaded Joan, "_I know_ you're brave, but don't----"
+
+But William was already doing it. They saw his disappearance into the
+little window, they heard plainly his descent down the coal heap
+inside, and in less than a minute he appeared in the doorway. He was
+almost unrecognisable. Coal dust adhered freely to the moist
+consistency of the mud and lichen already clinging to his suit, as
+well as to his hair and face. His collar had been almost torn away
+from its stud. William himself was smiling proudly, utterly
+unconscious of his appearance. Joan was plainly wavering between
+horror and admiration. Then the moment for which Cuthbert had longed
+arrived.
+
+"Children! come in now!"
+
+Cuthbert, clean and dainty, entered the drawing-room first and pointed
+an accusing finger at the strange figure which followed.
+
+"He'th been climbing treeth an' crawling in the mud, an' rolling down
+the coalth. He'th a nathty rough boy."
+
+A wild babel arose as William entered.
+
+"_William!_"
+
+"You _dreadful_ boy!"
+
+"Joan, come right away from him. Come over here."
+
+"What _will_ your father say?"
+
+"William, my _carpet_!"
+
+For the greater part of the stream's bed still clung to William's
+boots.
+
+Doggedly William defended himself.
+
+"I was showin' 'em how to do things. I was bein' a host. I was tryin'
+to make 'em _happy_! I----"
+
+"William, don't stand there talking. Go straight upstairs to the
+bathroom."
+
+It was the end of the first battle, and undoubtedly William had lost.
+Yet William had caught sight of the smile on Cuthbert's face and
+William had decided that that smile was something to be avenged.
+
+But fate did not favour him. Indeed, fate seemed to do the reverse.
+
+The idea of a children's play did not emanate from William's mother,
+or Joan's. They were both free from guilt in that respect. It emanated
+from Mrs. de Vere Carter. Mrs. de Vere Carter was a neighbour with a
+genius for organisation. There were few things she did not organise
+till their every other aspect or aim was lost but that of
+"organisation." She also had what amounted practically to a disease
+for "getting up" things. She "got up" plays, and bazaars, and
+pageants, and concerts. There were, in fact, few things she did not
+"get up." It was the sight of Joan and Cuthbert walking together down
+the road, the sun shining on their golden curls, that had inspired her
+with the idea of "getting up" a children's play. And Joan must be the
+Princess and little Cuthbert the Prince.
+
+Mrs. de Vere Carter was to write the play herself. At first she
+decided on Cinderella. Unfortunately there was a dearth of little
+girls in the neighbourhood, and therefore it was decided at a meeting
+composed of Mrs. de Vere Carter, Mrs. Clive, Mrs. Brown (William's
+mother), and Ethel (William's sister), that William could easily be
+dressed up to represent one of the ugly sisters. It was, however,
+decided at a later meeting, consisting of William and his mother and
+sister, that William could not take the part. It was William who came
+to this decision. He was adamant against both threats and entreaties.
+Without cherishing any delusions about his personal appearance, he
+firmly declined to play the part of the ugly sister. They took the
+news with deep apologies to Mrs. de Vere Carter, who was already in
+the middle of the first act. Her already low opinion of William sank
+to zero. Their next choice was little Red Riding Hood, and William was
+lured, by glowing pictures of a realistic costume, into consenting to
+take the part of the Wolf. Every day he had to be dragged by some
+elder and responsible member of his family to a rehearsal. His hatred
+of Cuthbert was only equalled by his hatred of Mrs. de Vere Carter.
+
+"He acts so _unnaturally_," moaned Mrs. de Vere Carter. "Try really
+to _think_ you're a wolf, darling. Put some spirit into it.
+Be--_animated_."
+
+William scowled at her and once more muttered monotonously his opening
+lines:
+
+    "A wolf am I--a wolf on mischief bent,
+     To eat this little maid is my intent."
+
+"Take a breath after 'bent,' darling. Now say it again."
+
+William complied, introducing this time a loud and audible gasp to
+represent the breath. Mrs. de Vere Carter sighed.
+
+"Now, Cuthbert, darling, draw your little sword and put your arm round
+Joan. That's right."
+
+Cuthbert obeyed, and his clear voice rose in a high chanting monotone.
+
+    "Avaunt! Begone! You wicked wolf, away!
+     This gentle maid shall never be your prey."
+
+"That's beautiful, darling. Now, William, slink away. _Slink_ away,
+darling. Don't stand staring at Cuthbert like that. Slink away. I'll
+show you. Watch me slink away."
+
+Mrs. de Vere Carter slunk away realistically, and the sight of it
+brought momentary delight to William's weary soul. Otherwise the
+rehearsals were not far removed from torture to him. The thought of
+being a wolf had at first attracted him, but actually a wolf character
+who had to repeat Mrs. de Vere Carter's meaningless couplets and be
+worsted at every turn by the smiling Cuthbert, who was forced to
+watch from behind the scenes the fond embraces of Cuthbert and Joan,
+galled his proud spirit unspeakably. Moreover Cuthbert monopolised her
+both before and after the rehearsals.
+
+"Come away, Joan, he'th prob'bly all over coal dutht and all of a
+meth."
+
+The continued presence of unsympathetic elders prevented his proper
+avenging of such insults.
+
+The day of the performance approached, and there arose some little
+trouble about William's costume. If the wearing of the dining-room
+hearth-rug had been forbidden by Authority it would have at once
+become the dearest wish of William's heart and a thing to be
+accomplished at all costs. But, because Authority decreed that that
+should be William's official costume as the Wolf, William at once
+began to find insuperable difficulties.
+
+"It's a dirty ole thing, all dust and bits of black hair come off it
+on me. I don't think it _looks_ like a wolf. Well, if I've gotter be a
+wolf folks might just as well _know_ what I am. This looks like as if
+it came off a black sheep or sumthin'. You don't want folks to think
+I'm a _sheep_ 'stead of a _wolf_, do you? You don't want me to be made
+look ridiclus before all these folks, do you?"
+
+He was slightly mollified by their promise to hire a wolf's head for
+him. He practised wolf's howlings (though these had no part in Mrs. de
+Vere Carter's play) at night in his room till he drove his family
+almost beyond the bounds of sanity.
+
+Mrs. de Vere Carter had hired the Village Hall for the performance,
+and the proceeds were to go to a local charity.
+
+On the night of the play the Hall was packed, and Mrs. de Vere Carter
+was in a flutter of excitement and importance.
+
+"Yes, the dear children are splendid, and they look _beautiful_! We've
+all worked so _hard_. Yes, entirely my own composition. I only hope
+that William Brown won't _murder_ my poetry as he does at rehearsals."
+
+The curtain went up.
+
+The scene was a wood, as was evident from a few small branches of
+trees placed here and there at intervals on the stage.
+
+Joan, in a white dress and red cloak, entered and began to speak,
+quickly and breathlessly, stressing every word with impartial
+regularity.
+
+    "A little maid am I--Red Riding-Hood.
+     My journey lies along this dark, thick wood.
+     Within my basket is a little jar
+     Of jam--a present for my grand-mamma."
+
+Then Cuthbert entered--a Prince in white satin with a blue sash. There
+was a rapt murmur of admiration in the audience as he made his
+appearance.
+
+William waited impatiently and uneasily behind the scenes. His wolf's
+head was very hot. One of the eye-holes was beyond his range of
+vision; through the other he had a somewhat prescribed view of what
+went on around him. He had been pinned tightly into the dining-room
+hearth-rug, his arms pinioned down by his side. He was distinctly
+uncomfortable.
+
+At last his cue came.
+
+Red Riding-Hood and the Prince parted after a short conversation in
+which their acquaintance made rapid strides, and at the end of which
+the Prince said casually as he turned to go:
+
+    "So sweet a maid have I never seen,
+     Ere long I hope to make her my wife and queen."
+
+Red Riding-Hood gazed after him, remarking (all in the same breath and
+tone):
+
+    "How kind he is, how gentle and how good!
+     But, see what evil beast comes through the wood!"
+
+Here William entered amid wild applause. On the stage he found that
+his one eye-hole gave him an excellent view of the audience. His
+mother and father were in the second row. Turning his head round
+slowly he discovered his sister Ethel sitting with a friend near the
+back.
+
+"William," hissed the prompter, "go on! 'A wolf am I----'"
+
+But William was engrossed in the audience. There was Mrs. Clive about
+the middle of the room.
+
+"'A wolf am I'--_go on_, William!"
+
+William had now found the cook and housemaid in the last row of all
+and was turning his eye-hole round in search of fresh discoveries.
+
+The prompter grew desperate.
+
+"'A wolf am I--a wolf on mischief bent.' _Say_ it, William."
+
+William turned his wolf's head towards the wings. "Well, I was _goin'_
+to say it," he said irritably, "if you'd lef' me alone."
+
+The audience tittered.
+
+"Well, say it," said the voice of the invisible prompter.
+
+"Well, I'm going to," said William. "I'm not goin' to say that again
+wot you said 'cause they all heard it. I'll go on from there."
+
+The audience rocked in wild delight. Behind the scenes Mrs. de Vere
+Carter wrung her hands and sniffed strong smelling-salts. "That boy!"
+she moaned.
+
+Then William, sinking his voice from the indignant clearness with
+which it had addressed the prompter, to a muffled inaudibility,
+continued:
+
+     "To eat this little maid is my intent."
+
+But there leapt on the stage again the radiant white and blue figure
+of the Prince brandishing his wooden sword.
+
+    "Avaunt! Begone! You wicked wolf, away!
+     This gentle maid shall never be your prey."
+
+At this point William should have slunk away. But the vision revealed
+by his one available eye-hole of the Prince standing in a threatening
+attitude with one arm round Joan filled him with a sudden and
+unaccountable annoyance. He advanced slowly and pugnaciously towards
+the Prince; and the Prince, who had never before acted with William in
+his head (which was hired for one evening only) fled from the stage
+with a wild yell of fear. The curtain was lowered hastily.
+
+There was consternation behind the scenes. William, glaring from out
+his eye-hole and refusing to remove his head, defended himself in his
+best manner.
+
+"Well I di'n't tell him to run away, did I? I di'n't _mean_ him to run
+away. I only _looked_ at him. Well, I was goin' to slink in a minit. I
+only wanted to look at him. I was _goin'_ to slink."
+
+"Oh, never mind! Get on with the play!" moaned Mrs. de Vere Carter.
+"But you've quite destroyed the _atmosphere_, William. You've spoilt
+the beautiful story. But hurry up, it's time for the grandmother's
+cottage scene now."
+
+Not a word of William's speeches was audible in the next scene, but
+his attack on and consumption of the aged grandmother was one of the
+most realistic parts of the play, especially considering the fact that
+his arms were imprisoned.
+
+"Not so roughly, William!" said the prompter in a sibilant whisper.
+"Don't make so much noise. They can't hear a word anyone's saying."
+
+At last William was clothed in the nightgown and nightcap and lying in
+the bed ready for little Red Riding-Hood's entrance. The combined
+effect of the rug and the head and the thought of Cuthbert had made
+him hotter and crosser than he ever remembered having felt before. He
+was conscious of a wild and unreasoning indignation against the world
+in general. Then Joan entered and began to pipe monotonously:
+
+    "Dear grandmamma, I've come with all quickness
+     To comfort you and sooth your bed of sickness,
+     Here are some little dainties I have brought
+     To show you how we cherish you in our thought."
+
+Here William wearily rose from his bed and made an unconvincing spring
+in her direction.
+
+But on to the stage leapt Cuthbert once more, the vision in blue and
+white with golden curls shining and sword again drawn.
+
+"Ha! evil beast----"
+
+It was too much for William. The heat and discomfort of his attire,
+the sight of the hated Cuthbert already about to embrace _his_ Joan,
+goaded him to temporary madness. With a furious gesture he burst the
+pins which attached the dining-room hearth-rug to his person and freed
+his arms. He tore off the white nightgown. He sprang at the petrified
+Cuthbert--a small wild figure in a jersey suit and a wolf's head.
+
+[Illustration: THE SIGHT OF THE HATED CUTHBERT ABOUT TO EMBRACE HIS
+JOAN GOADED WILLIAM TO TEMPORARY MADNESS.]
+
+Mrs. de Vere Carter had filled Red Riding-Hood's basket with
+packages of simple groceries, which included, among other things, a
+paper bag of flour and a jar of jam.
+
+William seized these wildly and hurled handfuls of flour at the
+prostrate, screaming Cuthbert. The stage was suddenly pandemonium. The
+other small actors promptly joined the battle. The prompter was too
+panic-stricken to lower the curtain. The air was white with clouds of
+flour. The victim scrambled to his feet and fled, a ghost-like figure,
+round the table.
+
+"Take him off me," he yelled. "Take him _off_ me. Take William off
+me." His wailing was deafening.
+
+The next second he was on the floor, with William on top of him.
+William now varied the proceedings by emptying the jar of jam on to
+Cuthbert's face and hair.
+
+They were separated at last by the prompter and stage manager, while
+the audience rose and cheered hysterically. But louder than the
+cheering rose the sound of Cuthbert's lamentation.
+
+"He'th a nathty, rough boy! He puthed me down. He'th methed my nith
+clotheth. Boo-hoo!"
+
+Mrs. de Vere Carter was inarticulate.
+
+"That boy ... that _boy_ ... _that boy_!" was all she could say.
+
+William was hurried away by his family before she could regain speech.
+
+"You've disgraced us publicly," said Mrs. Brown plaintively. "I
+thought you must have gone _mad_. People will never forget it. I
+might have known...."
+
+When pressed for an explanation William would only say:
+
+"Well, I felt hot. I felt awful hot, an' I di'n't like Cuthbert."
+
+He appeared to think this sufficient explanation, though he was fully
+prepared for the want of sympathy displayed by his family.
+
+"Well," he said firmly, "I'd just like to see you do it, I'd just like
+to see you be in the head and that ole rug an' have to say stupid
+things an'--an' see folks you don't like, an' I bet you'd _do_
+something."
+
+But he felt that public feeling was against him, and relapsed sadly
+into silence. From the darkness in front of them came the sound of
+Cuthbert's wailing as Mrs. Clive led her two charges home.
+
+"_Poor_ little Cuthbert!" said Mrs. Brown. "If I were Joan, I don't
+think I'd ever speak to you again."
+
+"Huh!" ejaculated William scornfully.
+
+But at William's gate a small figure slipped out from the darkness and
+two little arms crept round William's neck.
+
+"Oh, _William_," she whispered, "he's going to-morrow, and I am glad.
+Isn't he a softie? Oh, William, I do _love_ you, you do such _'citing_
+things!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+THE GHOST
+
+
+William lay on the floor of the barn, engrossed in a book. This was a
+rare thing with William. His bottle of lemonade lay untouched by his
+side, and he even forgot the half-eaten apple which reposed in his
+hand. His jaws were arrested midway in the act of munching.
+
+"Our hero," he read, "was awakened about midnight by the sound of the
+rattling of chains. Raising himself on his arm he gazed into the
+darkness. About a foot from his bed he could discern a tall, white,
+faintly-gleaming figure and a ghostly arm which beckoned him."
+
+William's hair stood on end.
+
+"Crumbs!" he ejaculated.
+
+"Nothing perturbed," he continued to read, "our hero rose and followed
+the spectre through the long winding passages of the old castle.
+Whenever he hesitated, a white, luminous arm, hung around with ghostly
+chains, beckoned him on."
+
+"Gosh!" murmured the enthralled William. "I'd have bin scared!"
+
+"At the panel in the wall the ghost stopped, and silently the panel
+slid aside, revealing a flight of stone steps. Down this went the
+apparition followed by our intrepid hero. There was a small stone
+chamber at the bottom, and into this the rays of moonlight poured,
+revealing a skeleton in a sitting attitude beside a chest of golden
+sovereigns. The gold gleamed in the moonlight."
+
+"Golly!" gasped William, red with excitement.
+
+"William!"
+
+The cry came from somewhere in the sunny garden outside. William
+frowned sternly, took another bite of apple, and continued to read.
+
+"Our hero gave a cry of astonishment."
+
+"Yea, I'd have done that all right," agreed William.
+
+"_William!_"
+
+"Oh, shut _up_!" called William, irritably, thereby revealing his
+hiding-place.
+
+His grown-up sister, Ethel, appeared in the doorway.
+
+"Mother wants you," she announced.
+
+"Well, I can't come. I'm busy," said William, coldly, taking a draught
+of lemonade and returning to his book.
+
+"Cousin Mildred's come," continued his sister.
+
+William raised his freckled face from his book.
+
+"Well, I can't help that, can I?" he said, with the air of one arguing
+patiently with a lunatic.
+
+Ethel shrugged her shoulders and departed.
+
+"He's reading some old book in the barn," he heard her announce, "and
+he says----"
+
+[Illustration: ETHEL APPEARED IN THE DOORWAY. "MOTHER WANTS YOU," SHE
+ANNOUNCED.]
+
+Here he foresaw complications and hastily followed her.
+
+"Well, I'm _comin'_, aren't I?" he said, "as fast as I can."
+
+Cousin Mildred was sitting on the lawn. She was elderly and very thin
+and very tall, and she wore a curious, long, shapeless garment of
+green silk with a golden girdle.
+
+"Dear child!" she murmured, taking the grimy hand that William held
+out to her in dignified silence.
+
+He was cheered by the sight of tea and hot cakes.
+
+Cousin Mildred ate little but talked much.
+
+"I'm living in _hopes_ of a psychic revelation, dear," she said to
+William's mother. "_In hopes!_ I've heard of wonderful experiences,
+but so far none--alas!--have befallen me. Automatic writing I have
+tried, but any communication the spirits may have sent me that way
+remained illegible--quite illegible."
+
+She sighed.
+
+William eyed her with scorn while he consumed reckless quantities of
+hot cakes.
+
+"I would _love_ to have a psychic revelation," she sighed again.
+
+"Yes, dear," murmured Mrs. Brown, mystified. "William, you've had
+enough."
+
+"_Enough?_" said William, in surprise. "Why I've only had----" He
+decided hastily against exact statistics and in favour of vague
+generalities.
+
+"I've only had hardly any," he said, aggrievedly.
+
+"You've had _enough_, anyway," said Mrs. Brown firmly.
+
+The martyr rose, pale but proud.
+
+"Well, can I go then, if I can't have any more tea?"
+
+"There's plenty of bread and butter."
+
+"I don't want bread and butter," he said, scornfully.
+
+"Dear child!" murmured Cousin Mildred, vaguely, as he departed.
+
+He returned to the story and lemonade and apple, and stretched himself
+happily at full length in the shady barn.
+
+"But the ghostly visitant seemed to be fading away, and with a soft
+sigh was gone. Our hero, with a start of surprise, realised that he
+was alone with the gold and the skeleton. For the first time he
+experienced a thrill of cold fear and slowly retreated up the stairs
+before the hollow and, as it seemed, vindictive stare of the grinning
+skeleton."
+
+"I wonder wot he was grinnin' at?" said William.
+
+"But to his horror the door was shut, the panel had slid back. He had
+no means of opening it. He was imprisoned on a remote part of the
+castle, where even the servants came but rarely, and at intervals of
+weeks. Would his fate be that of the man whose bones gleamed white in
+the moonlight?"
+
+"Crumbs!" said William, earnestly.
+
+Then a shadow fell upon the floor of the barn, and Cousin Mildred's
+voice greeted him.
+
+"So you're here, dear? I'm just exploring your garden and thinking. I
+like to be alone. I see that you are the same, dear child!"
+
+"I'm readin'," said William, with icy dignity.
+
+"Dear boy! Won't you come and show me the garden and your favourite
+nooks and corners?"
+
+William looked at her thin, vague, amiable face, and shut his book
+with a resigned sigh.
+
+"All right," he said, laconically.
+
+He conducted her in patient silence round the kitchen garden and the
+shrubbery. She looked sadly at the house, with its red brick,
+uncompromisingly-modern appearance.
+
+"William, I wish your house was _old_," she said, sadly.
+
+William resented any aspersions on his house from outsiders.
+Personally he considered newness in a house an attraction, but, if
+anyone wished for age, then old his house should be.
+
+"_Old_!" he ejaculated. "Huh! I guess it's _old_ enough."
+
+"Oh, is it?" she said, delighted. "Restored recently, I suppose?"
+
+"Umph," agreed William, nodding.
+
+"Oh, I'm so glad. I may have some psychic revelation here, then?"
+
+"Oh yes," said William, judicially. "I shouldn't wonder."
+
+"William, have you ever had one?"
+
+"Well," said William, guardedly, "I dunno."
+
+His mysterious manner threw her into a transport.
+
+"Of course not to anyone. But to _me_--I'm one of the sympathetic! To
+me you may speak freely, William."
+
+William, feeling that his ignorance could no longer be hidden by
+words, maintained a discreet silence.
+
+"To me it shall be sacred, William. I will tell no one--not even your
+parents. I believe that children see--clouds of glory and all that,"
+vaguely. "With your unstained childish vision----"
+
+"I'm eleven," put in William indignantly.
+
+"You see things that to the wise are sealed. Some manifestation, some
+spirit, some ghostly visitant----"
+
+"Oh," said William, suddenly enlightened, "you talkin' about
+_ghosts_?"
+
+"Yes, ghosts, William."
+
+Her air of deference flattered him. She evidently expected great
+things of him. Great things she should have. At the best of times with
+William imagination was stronger than cold facts.
+
+He gave a short laugh.
+
+"Oh, _ghosts_! Yes, I've seen some of 'em. I guess I _have_!"
+
+Her face lit up.
+
+"Will you tell me some of your experiences, William?" she said,
+humbly.
+
+"Well," said William, loftily, "you won't go _talkin'_ about it, will
+you?"
+
+"Oh, _no_."
+
+"Well, I've seen 'em, you know. Chains an' all. And skeletons. And
+ghostly arms beckonin' an' all that."
+
+William was enjoying himself. He walked with a swagger. He almost
+believed what he said. She gasped.
+
+"Oh, go on!" she said. "Tell me all."
+
+He went on. He soared aloft on the wings of imagination, his hands in
+his pockets, his freckled face puckered up in frowning mental effort.
+He certainly enjoyed himself.
+
+"If only some of it could happen to _me_," breathed his confidante.
+"Does it come to you at _nights_, William?"
+
+"Yes," nodded William. "Nights mostly."
+
+"I shall--watch to-night," said Cousin Mildred. "And you say the house
+is old?"
+
+"Awful old," said William, reassuringly.
+
+Her attitude to William was a relief to the rest of the family.
+Visitors sometimes objected to William.
+
+"She seems to have almost taken to William," said his mother, with a
+note of unflattering incredulity in her voice.
+
+William was pleased yet embarrassed by her attentions. It was a
+strange experience to him to be accepted by a grown-up as a
+fellow-being. She talked to him with interest and a certain humility,
+she bought him sweets and seemed pleased that he accepted them, she
+went for walks with him, and evidently took his constrained silence
+for the silence of depth and wisdom.
+
+Beneath his embarrassment he was certainly pleased and flattered. She
+seemed to prefer his company to that of Ethel. That was one in the
+eye for Ethel. But he felt that something was expected from him in
+return for all this kindness and attention. William was a sportsman.
+He decided to supply it. He took a book of ghost stories from the
+juvenile library at school, and read them in the privacy of his room
+at night. Many were the thrilling adventures which he had to tell to
+Cousin Mildred in the morning. Cousin Mildred's bump of credulity was
+a large one. She supplied him with sweets on a generous scale. She
+listened to him with awe and wonder.
+
+"William ... you are one of the elect, the chosen," she said, "one of
+those whose spirits can break down the barrier between the unseen
+world and ours with ease." And always she sighed and stroked back her
+thin locks, sadly. "Oh, how I wish that some experience would happen
+to _me_!"
+
+One morning, after the gift of an exceptionally large tin of toffee,
+William's noblest feelings were aroused. Manfully he decided that
+something _should_ happen to her.
+
+Cousin Mildred slept in the bedroom above William's. Descent from one
+window to the other was easy, but ascent was difficult. That night
+Cousin Mildred awoke suddenly as the clock struck twelve. There was no
+moon, and only dimly did she discern the white figure that stood in
+the light of the window. She sat up, quivering with eagerness. Her
+short, thin little pigtail, stuck out horizontally from her head.
+Her mouth was wide open.
+
+[Illustration: SHE SAT UP, QUIVERING WITH EAGERNESS. HER SHORT, THIN
+LITTLE PIGTAIL STUCK OUT HORIZONTALLY FROM HER HEAD. HER MOUTH WAS
+WIDE OPEN.]
+
+"Oh!" she gasped.
+
+The white figure moved a step forward and coughed nervously.
+
+Cousin Mildred clasped her hands.
+
+"Speak!" she said, in a tense whisper. "Oh, speak! Some message! Some
+revelation."
+
+William was nonplussed. None of the ghosts he had read of had spoken.
+They had rattled and groaned and beckoned, but they had not spoken. He
+tried groaning and emitted a sound faintly reminiscent of a sea-sick
+voyager.
+
+"Oh, _speak_!" pleaded Cousin Mildred.
+
+Evidently speech was a necessary part of this performance. William
+wondered whether ghosts spoke English or a language of their own. He
+inclined to the latter view and nobly took the plunge.
+
+"Honk. Yonk. Ponk," he said, firmly.
+
+Cousin Mildred gasped in wonder.
+
+"Oh, explain," she pleaded, ardently. "Explain in our poor human
+speech. Some message----"
+
+William took fright. It was all turning out to be much more
+complicated than he had expected. He hastily passed through the room
+and out of the door, closing it noisily behind him. As he ran along
+the passage came a sound like a crash of thunder. Outside in the
+passage were Cousin Mildred's boots, William's father's boots, and
+William's brother's boots, and into these charged William in his
+headlong retreat. They slid noisily along the polished wooden surface
+of the floor, ricochetting into each other as they went. Doors opened
+suddenly and William's father collided with William's brother in the
+dark passage, where they wrestled fiercely before they discovered each
+other's identity.
+
+"I heard that confounded noise and I came out----"
+
+"So did I."
+
+"Well, then, who _made_ it?"
+
+"Who did?"
+
+"If it's that wretched boy up to any tricks again----"
+
+William's father left the sentence unfinished, but went with
+determined tread towards his younger son's room. William was
+discovered, carefully spreading a sheet over his bed and smoothing it
+down.
+
+Mr. Brown, roused from his placid slumbers, was a sight to make a
+brave man quail, but the glance that William turned upon him was
+guileless and sweet.
+
+"Did you make that confounded row kicking boots about the passage?"
+spluttered the man of wrath.
+
+"No, Father," said William, gently. "I've not bin kickin' no boots
+about."
+
+"Were you down on the lower landing just now?" said Mr. Brown, with
+compressed fury.
+
+William considered this question silently for a few seconds, then
+spoke up brightly and innocently.
+
+"I dunno, Father. You see, some folks walk in their sleep and when
+they wake up they dunno where they've bin. Why, I've heard of a man
+walkin' down a fire escape in his sleep, and then he woke up and
+couldn't think how he'd got to be there where he was. You see, he
+didn't know he'd walked down all them steps sound asleep, and----"
+
+"Be _quiet_," thundered his father. "What in the name of----what on
+earth are you doing making your bed in the middle of the night? Are
+you insane?"
+
+William, perfectly composed, tucked in one end of his sheet.
+
+"No Father, I'm not insane. My sheet just fell off me in the night and
+I got out to pick it up. I must of bin a bit restless, I suppose.
+Sheets come off easy when folks is restless in bed, and they don't
+know anythin' about it till they wake up jus' same as sleep walkin'.
+Why, I've heard of folks----"
+
+"Be _quiet_----!"
+
+At that moment William's mother arrived, placid as ever, in her
+dressing gown, carrying a candle.
+
+"Look at him," said Mr. Brown, pointing at the meek-looking William.
+
+"He plays Rugger up and down the passage with the boots all night and
+then he begins to make his bed. He's mad. He's----"
+
+William turned his calm gaze upon him.
+
+"_I_ wasn't playin' Rugger with the boots, Father," he said,
+patiently.
+
+Mrs. Brown laid her hand soothingly upon her husband's arm.
+
+"You know, dear," she said, gently, "a house is always full of noises
+at night. Basket chairs creaking----"
+
+Mr. Brown's face grew purple.
+
+"_Basket chairs----!_" he exploded, violently, but allowed himself to be
+led unresisting from the room.
+
+William finished his bed-making with his usual frown of concentration,
+then, lying down, fell at once into the deep sleep of childish
+innocence.
+
+But Cousin Mildred was lying awake, a blissful smile upon her lips.
+She, too, was now one of the elect, the chosen. Her rather deaf ears
+had caught the sound of supernatural thunder as her ghostly visitant
+departed, and she had beamed with ecstatic joy.
+
+"Honk," she murmured, dreamily. "Honk, Yonk, Ponk."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+William felt rather tired the next evening. Cousin Mildred had
+departed leaving him a handsome present of a large box of chocolates.
+William had consumed these with undue haste in view of possible
+maternal interference. His broken night was telling upon his spirits.
+He felt distinctly depressed and saw the world through jaundiced
+eyes. He sat in the shrubbery, his chin in his hand, staring moodily
+at the adoring mongrel, Jumble.
+
+"It's a rotten world," he said, gloomily. "I've took a lot of trouble
+over her and she goes and makes me feel sick with chocolates."
+
+Jumble wagged his tail, sympathetically.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+THE MAY KING
+
+
+William was frankly bored. School always bored him. He disliked facts,
+and he disliked being tied down to detail, and he disliked answering
+questions. As a politician a great future would have lain before him.
+William attended a mixed school because his parents hoped that
+feminine influence might have a mellowing effect upon his character.
+As yet the mellowing was not apparent. He was roused from his
+day-dreams by a change in the voice of Miss Dewhurst, his form
+mistress. It was evident that she was not talking about the exports of
+England (a subject in which William took little interest) any longer.
+
+"Children," she said brightly. "I want to have a little May Queen for
+the first of May. The rest of you must be her courtiers. I want you
+all to vote to-morrow. Put down on a piece of paper the name of the
+little girl you think would make the sweetest little Queen, and the
+rest of you shall be her swains and maidens."
+
+"We're goin' to have a May Queen," remarked William to his family at
+dinner, "an' I'm goin' to be a swain."
+
+His interest died down considerably when he discovered the meaning of
+the word swain.
+
+"Isn't it no sort of animal at all?" he asked indignantly.
+
+"Well, I'm not going to be in it, then," he said when he heard that it
+was not.
+
+The next morning Evangeline Fish began to canvass for votes
+methodically. Evangeline Fish was very fair, and was dressed always in
+that shade of blue that shrieks aloud to the heavens and puts the
+skies to shame. She was considered the beauty of the form.
+
+"I'll give you two bull's eyes if you'll vote for me," she said to
+William.
+
+"_Two!_" said William with scorn.
+
+"Six," she bargained.
+
+"All right," he said, "you can give me six bull's eyes if you want.
+There's nothing to stop you givin' me six bull's eyes if you want, is
+there? Not that I know of."
+
+"But you'll have to promise to put down my name on the paper if I give
+you six bull's eyes," she said suspiciously.
+
+"All right," said William. "I can easy promise that."
+
+Whereupon she handed over the six bull's eyes. William returned one as
+being under regulation size, and waited frowning till she replaced it
+by a larger one.
+
+"Now, you've promised," said Evangeline Fish. "They'll make you ill
+an' die if you break your promise on them."
+
+William kept his promise with true political address. He wrote "E.
+Fish--I _don't_ think!" on his voting paper and his vote was
+disqualified. But Evangeline Fish was elected May Queen by an
+overwhelming majority. She was, after all, the beauty of the form and
+she always wore blue. And now she was to be May Queen. Her prestige
+was established for ever. "Little angel," murmured the elder girls.
+The small boys fought for her favours. William began to dislike her
+intensely. Her voice, and her smile, and her ringlets, and her blue
+dress began to jar upon his nerves. And when anything began to jar on
+William's nerves something always happened.
+
+It was not till about a week later that he noticed Bettine Franklin.
+Bettine was small and dark. There was nothing "angelic" about her.
+William had noticed her vaguely in school before and had hardly looked
+upon her as a distinct personality. But one recreation in the
+playground he stood leaning against the wall by himself, scowling at
+Evangeline Fish. She was surrounded by a crowd of admirers, and was
+prattling to them artlessly in her angelic voice.
+
+"I'm going to be dressed in white muslin with a blue sash. Blue suits
+me, you know. I'm so fair." She tossed back a ringlet. "One of you
+will have to hold my train and the rest must dance round me. I'm
+going to have a crown and--" She turned round in order to avoid the
+scowling gaze of William in the distance. William had discovered that
+his scowl annoyed her, and since then had given it little rest. But
+there was no satisfaction in scowling at the back of her well-curled
+head, so he relaxed his scowl and let his gaze wander round the
+playground. And it fell upon Bettine. Bettine was also standing by
+herself and gazing at Evangeline Fish. But she was not scowling. She
+was looking at Evangeline Fish with wistful envy. For Evangeline Fish
+was "angelic" and a May Queen, and she was neither of these things.
+William strolled over and lolled against the wall next to her.
+
+"'Ullo!" he said, without looking at her, for this change of position
+had brought him again within range of Evangeline Fish's eye, and he
+was once more simply one concentrated scowl.
+
+"'Ullo," murmured Bettine shyly and politely.
+
+"You like pink rock?" was William's next effort.
+
+"Um," said Bettine, nodding emphatically.
+
+"I'll give you some next time I buy some," said William munificently,
+"but I shan't be buying any for a long time," he added bitterly,
+"'cause an ole ball slipped out my hands on to our dining-room window
+before I noticed it yesterday."
+
+She nodded understandingly.
+
+"I don't mind!" she said sweetly. "I'll like you jus' as much if you
+don't ever give me any rock."
+
+William blushed.
+
+"I di'n't know you liked me," he said.
+
+"I do," she said fervently. "I like your face an' I like the things
+you say."
+
+William had forgotten to scowl. He was one flaming mixture of
+embarrassment and delight. He plunged his hands into his pockets and
+brought out two marbles, a piece of clay, and a broken toy gun.
+
+"You can have 'em all," he said in reckless generosity.
+
+"You keep 'em for me," said Bettine sweetly.
+
+"I hope you dance next me at the Maypole when Evangeline's Queen.
+Won't it be lovely?" and she sighed.
+
+"Lovely?" exploded William. "Huh!"
+
+"Won't you like it?" said Bettine wonderingly.
+
+"_Me!_" exploded William again. "Dancin' round a pole! Round that ole
+girl?"
+
+"But she's so pretty."
+
+"No, she isn't," said William firmly, "she jus' isn't. Not _much_! I
+don' like her narsy shiny hair an' I don' like her narsy blue clothes,
+an' I don' like her narsy face, an' I don' like her narsy white shoes,
+nor her narsy necklaces, nor her narsy squeaky voice----"
+
+He paused.
+
+Bettine drew a deep breath.
+
+"Go on some more," she said. "I _like_ listening to you."
+
+"Do _you_ like her?" said William.
+
+"No. She's awful _greedy_. Did you know she was awful _greedy_?"
+
+"I can _b'lieve_ it," said William. "I can b'lieve _anything_ of
+anyone wot talks in that squeaky voice."
+
+"Jus' watch her when she's eatin' cakes--she goes on eatin' and eatin'
+and eatin'."
+
+"She'll bust an' die one day then," prophesied William solemnly, "an'
+_I_ shan't be sorry."
+
+"But she'll look ever so beautiful when she's a May Queen."
+
+"You'd look nicer," said William.
+
+Bettine's small pale face flamed.
+
+"Oh _no_," she said.
+
+"Would you like to be a May Queen?"
+
+"Oh, _yes_," she said.
+
+"Um," said William, and returned to the discomfiture of Evangeline
+Fish by his steady concentrated scowl.
+
+The next day he had the opportunity of watching her eating cakes. They
+met at the birthday party of a mutual classmate, and Evangeline Fish
+took her stand by the table and consumed cakes with a perseverance and
+determination worthy of a nobler cause. William accorded her a certain
+grudging admiration. Not once did she falter or faint. Iced cakes,
+cream cakes, pastries melted away before her and never did she lose
+her ethereal angelic appearance. Tight golden ringlets, blue eyes,
+faintly flushed cheeks, vivid pale blue dress remained immaculate and
+unruffled, and still she ate cakes. William watched her in amazement,
+forgetting even to scowl at her. Her capacity for cakes exceeded even
+William's, and his was no mean one.
+
+They had a rehearsal of the Maypole dance and crowning the next day.
+
+[Illustration: WILLIAM ACCORDED HER A CERTAIN GRUDGING ADMIRATION.
+ICED CAKES, CREAM CAKES, PASTRIES MELTED AWAY BEFORE HER.]
+
+"I want William Brown to hold the queen's train," said Miss Dewhurst.
+
+"_Me?_" ejaculated William in horror. "D'you mean _me_?"
+
+"Yes, dear. It's a great honour to be asked to hold little Queen
+Evangeline's train. I'm sure you feel very proud. You must be her
+little courtier."
+
+"Huh!" said William, transferring his scowl to Miss Dewhurst.
+
+Evangeline beamed. She wanted William's admiration. William was the
+only boy in the form who was not her slave. She smiled at William
+sweetly.
+
+"I'm not _good_ at holdin' trains," said William. "I don't _like_
+holdin' trains. I've never bin _taught_ 'bout holdin' trains. I might
+do it wrong on the day an' spoil it all. I shan't like to spoil it
+all," he added virtuously.
+
+"Oh, we'll have heaps of practices," said Miss Dewhurst brightly.
+
+As he was going Bettine pressed a small apple into his hand.
+
+"A present for you," she murmured. "I saved it from my dinner."
+
+He was touched.
+
+"I'll give you somethin' to-morrow," he said, adding hastily, "if I
+can find anythin'."
+
+They stood in silence till he had finished his apple.
+
+"I've left a lot on the core," he said in a tone of unusual
+politeness, handing it to her, "would you like to finish it?"
+
+"No, thank you. William, you'll look so nice holding her train."
+
+"I don't want to, an' I bet I _won't_! You don't _know_ the things I
+can do," he said darkly.
+
+"Oh, William!" she gasped in awe and admiration.
+
+"I'd hold your train if you was goin' to be queen," he volunteered.
+
+"I wouldn't want you to hold my train," she said earnestly.
+"I'd--I'd--I'd want you to be May King with me."
+
+"Yes. Why don't they have May Kings?" said William, stung by this
+insult to his sex.
+
+"Why shouldn't there be a May King?"
+
+"I speck they _do_, really, only p'raps Miss Dewhurst doesn't know
+abut it."
+
+"Well, it doesn't seem sense not having May Kings, does it? I wun't
+mind bein' May King if you was May Queen."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The rehearsal was, on the whole, a failure.
+
+"William Brown, don't hold the train so high. No, not quite so low.
+Don't stand so near the Queen, William Brown. No, not so far
+away--you'll pull the train off. Walk when the Queen walks, William
+Brown, don't stand still. Sing up, please, train bearer. No, not quite
+so loud. That's deafening and not melodious."
+
+In the end he was degraded from the position of train-bearer to that
+of ordinary "swain." The "swains" were to be dressed in smocks and the
+"maidens" in print dresses, and the Maypole dance was to be performed
+round Evangeline Fish, who was to stand in queenly attire by the pole
+in the middle. All the village was to be invited.
+
+At the end of the rehearsal William came upon Bettine, once more
+gazing wistfully at Evangeline Fish, who was coquetting (with many
+tosses of the fair ringlets) before a crowd of admirers.
+
+"Isn't it lovely for her to be May Queen?" said Bettine.
+
+"She's a rotten one," said William. "I'm jolly glad _I've_ not to hold
+up her rotten ole train an' listen to her narsy squeaky voice singin'
+close to, an' I'll give you a present to-morrow."
+
+He did. He found a centipede in the garden and pressed it into her
+hand on the way to school.
+
+"They're jolly int'restin'," he said. "Put it in a match-box and make
+holes for its breath and it'll live ever so long. It won't bite you if
+you hold it the right way."
+
+And because she loved William she took it without even a shudder.
+
+Evangeline Fish began to pursue William. She grudged him bitterly to
+Bettine. She pirouetted near him in her sky-blue garments, she tossed
+her ringlets about him. She ogled him with her pale blue eyes.
+
+And in the long school hours during which he dreamed at his desk, or
+played games with his friends, while highly-paid instructors poured
+forth their wisdom for his benefit, William evolved a plan.
+Unfortunately, like most plans, it required capital, and William had
+no capital. Occasionally William's elder brother Robert would supply
+a few shillings without inconvenient questions, but it happened that
+Robert was ignoring William's existence at that time. For Robert had
+(not for the first time) discovered his Ideal, and the Ideal had been
+asked to lunch the previous week. For days before Robert had made
+William's life miserable. He had objected to William's unbrushed hair
+and unmanicured hands, and untidy person, and noisy habits. He had
+bitterly demanded what She would think on being asked to a house where
+she might meet such an individual as William; he had insisted that
+William should be taught habits of cleanliness and silence before She
+came; he had hinted darkly that a man who had William for a brother
+was hampered considerably in his love affairs because She would think
+it was a queer kind of family where anyone like William was allowed to
+grow up. He had reserved some of his fervour for the cook. She must
+have a proper lunch--not stews and stuff they often had--there must be
+three vegetables and there must be cheese straws. Cook must learn to
+make better cheese straws. And William, having swallowed insults for
+three whole days, planned vengeance. It was a vengeance which only
+William could have planned or carried out. For only William could have
+seized a moment just before lunch when the meal was dished up and cook
+happened to be out of the kitchen to carry the principal dishes down
+to the coal cellar and conceal them beneath the best nuts.
+
+It is well to draw a veil over the next half-hour. Both William and
+the meal had vanished. Robert tore his hair and appealed vainly to the
+heavens. He hinted darkly at suicide. For what is cold tongue and
+coffee to offer to an Ideal? The meal was discovered during the
+afternoon in its resting-place and given to William's mongrel, Jumble,
+who crept about during the next few days in agonies of indigestion.
+Robert had bitterly demanded of William why he went about the world
+spoiling people's lives and ruining their happiness. He had implied
+that when William met with the One and Only Love of his Life he need
+look for no help or assistance from him (Robert), because he (William)
+had dashed to the ground his (Robert's) cup of happiness, because he'd
+never in his life met anyone before like Miss Laing, and never would
+again, and he (William) had simply condemned him to a lonely and
+miserable old age, because who'd want to marry anyone that asked them
+to lunch and then gave them coffee and cold tongue, and he'd never
+want to marry anyone else, because it was the One and Only Love of his
+Life, and he hoped he (William) would realise, when he was old enough
+to realise, what it meant to have your life spoilt and your happiness
+ruined all through coffee and tongue, because someone you'd never
+speak to again had hidden the lunch. Whence it came that William,
+optimist though he was, felt that any appeal to Robert for funds would
+be inopportune, to say the least of it.
+
+But Providence was on William's side for once. An old uncle came to
+tea and gave William five shillings.
+
+"Going to dance at a Maypole, I hear?" he chuckled.
+
+"P'raps," was all William said.
+
+His family were relieved by his meekness with regard to the May Day
+festival. Sometimes William made such a foolish fuss about being
+dressed up and performing in public.
+
+"You know, dear," said his mother, "it's a dear old festival, and
+quite an honour to take part in it, and a smock is quite a nice manly
+garment."
+
+"Yes, Mother," said William.
+
+The day was fine--a real May Day. The Maypole was fixed up in the
+field near the school, and the little performers were to change in the
+schoolroom.
+
+William went out with his brown paper parcel of stage properties under
+his arm and stood gazing up the road by which Evangeline Fish must
+come to the school. For Evangeline Fish would have to pass his gate.
+Soon he saw her, her pale blue radiant in the sun.
+
+"'Ullo!" he greeted her.
+
+She simpered. She had won him at last.
+
+"Waitin' to walk to the school with me, William?" she said.
+
+He still loitered.
+
+"You're awful early."
+
+"Am I? I thought I was late. I meant to be late. I don't want to be
+too early. I'm the most 'portant person, and I want to walk in after
+the others, then they'll all look at me."
+
+She tossed her tightly-wrought curls.
+
+"Come into our ole shed a minute," said William. "I've got a present
+for you."
+
+She blushed and ogled.
+
+"Oh, _William_!" she said, and followed him into the wood-shed.
+
+"Look!" he said.
+
+[Illustration: "HAVE A LOT," SAID WILLIAM. "THEY'RE ALL FOR YOU. GO
+ON. EAT 'EM ALL. YOU CAN EAT AN' EAT AN' EAT."]
+
+His uncle's five shillings had been well expended. Rows of cakes lay
+round the shed, pastries, and sugar cakes, and iced cakes, and currant
+cakes.
+
+"Have a lot," said William. "They're all for you. Go on! Eat 'em all.
+You can eat an' eat an' eat. There's lots an' lots of time and they
+can't begin without you, can they?"
+
+"Oh, _William_!" she said.
+
+She gloated over them.
+
+"Oh, may I?"
+
+"There's heaps of time," said William. "Go on! Eat them all!"
+
+Her greedy little eyes seemed to stand out of her head.
+
+"Oo!" she said in rapture.
+
+She sat down on the floor and began to eat, lost to everything but
+icing and currants and pastry. William made for the door, then he
+paused, gazed wistfully at the feast, stepped back, and, grabbing a
+cream bun in each hand, crept quietly away.
+
+Bettine in her print frock was at the door of the school.
+
+"Hurry up!" she said anxiously. "You're going to be late. The others
+are all out. They're waiting to begin. Miss Dewhurst's out there.
+They're all come but you an' the Queen. I stayed 'cause you asked me
+to stay to help you."
+
+He came in and shut the door.
+
+"You're goin' to be May Queen," he announced firmly.
+
+"_Me?_" she said in amazement.
+
+"Yes. An' I'm goin' to be King."
+
+He unwrapped his parcel.
+
+"Look!" he said.
+
+He had ransacked his sister's bedroom. Once Ethel had been to a fancy
+dress dance as a Fairy. Over Bettine's print frock he drew a crumpled
+gauze slip with wings, torn in several places. On her brow he placed a
+tinsel crown at a rakish angle. And she quivered with happiness.
+
+"Oh, how lovely!" she said. "How lovely! How lovely!"
+
+His own preparations were simpler. He tied a red sash that he had
+taken off his sister's hat over his right shoulder and under his left
+arm on the top of his smock. Someone had once given him a small 'bus
+conductor's cap with a toy set of tickets and clippers. He placed the
+cap upon his head with its peak over one eye. It was the only official
+headgear he had been able to procure. Then he took a piece of burnt
+cork from his parcel and solemnly drew a fierce and military moustache
+upon his cheek and lip. To William no kind of theatricals was complete
+without a corked moustache.
+
+Then he took Bettine by the hand and led her out to the Maypole.
+
+The dancers were all waiting holding the ribbons. The audience was
+assembled and a murmur of conversation was rising from it. It ceased
+abruptly as William and Bettine appeared. William's father, mother and
+sister were in the front row. Robert was not there. Robert had
+declined to come to anything in which that little wretch was to
+perform. He'd jolly well had enough of that little wretch to last his
+lifetime, thank you very much.
+
+[Illustration: WILLIAM AND BETTINE STEPPED SOLEMNLY HAND IN HAND UPON
+THE LITTLE PLATFORM WHICH HAD BEEN PROVIDED FOR THE MAY QUEEN.]
+
+William and Bettine stepped solemnly hand in hand upon the little
+platform which had been provided for the May Queen.
+
+Miss Dewhurst, who was chatting amicably to the parents till the last
+of her small performers should appear, seemed suddenly turned to
+stone, with mouth gaping and eyes wide. The old fiddler, who was
+rather short-sighted, struck up the strains, and the dancers began to
+dance. The audience relaxed, leaning back in their chairs to enjoy the
+scene. Miss Dewhurst was still frozen. There were murmured comments.
+"How curious to have that boy there! A sort of attendant, I suppose."
+
+"Yes, perhaps he's something allegorical. A sort of pageant. Good Luck
+or something. It's not quite the sort of thing I expected, I must
+admit."
+
+"What do you think of the Queen's dress? I always thought Miss
+Dewhurst had better taste. Rather tawdry, I call it."
+
+"I think the moustache is a mistake. It gives quite a common look to
+the whole thing. I wonder who he's meant to be? Pan, do you think?"
+uncertainly.
+
+"Oh, no, nothing so _pagan_, I hope," said an elderly matron,
+horrified. "He's that Brown boy, you know. There always seems to be
+something queer about anything he's in. I've noticed it often. But I
+_hope_ he's meant to be something more Christian than Pan, though one
+never knows in these days," she added darkly.
+
+William's sister had recognised her possessions, and was gasping in
+anger.
+
+William's father, who knew William, was smiling sardonically.
+
+William's mother was smiling proudly.
+
+"You're always running down William," she said to the world in
+general, "but look at him now. He's got a very important part, and he
+said nothing about it at home. I call it very nice and modest of him.
+And what a dear little girl."
+
+Bettine, standing on the platform with William's hand holding hers and
+the Maypole dancers dancing round her, was radiant with pride and
+happiness.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+And Evangeline Fish in the wood-shed was just beginning the last
+currant cake.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+THE REVENGE
+
+
+William was a scout. The fact was well known. There was no one within
+a five-mile radius of William's home who did not know it. Sensitive
+old ladies had fled shuddering from their front windows when William
+marched down the street singing (the word is a euphemism) his scout
+songs in his strong young voice. Curious smells emanated from the
+depth of the garden where William performed mysterious culinary
+operations. One old lady whose cat had disappeared looked at William
+with dour suspicion in her eye whenever he passed. Even the return of
+her cat a few weeks later did not remove the hostility from her gaze
+whenever it happened to rest upon William.
+
+William's family had welcomed the suggestion of William's becoming a
+scout.
+
+"It will keep him out of mischief," they had said.
+
+They were notoriously optimistic where William was concerned.
+
+William's elder brother only was doubtful.
+
+"You know what William is," he said, and in that dark saying much was
+contained.
+
+Things went fairly smoothly for some time. He took the scouts' law of
+a daily deed of kindness in its most literal sense. He was to do one
+(and one only) deed of kindness a day. There were times when he forced
+complete strangers, much to their embarrassment, to be the unwilling
+recipients of his deed of kindness. There were times when he answered
+any demand for help with a cold: "No, I've done it to-day."
+
+He received with saint-like patience the eloquence of his elder sister
+when she found her silk scarf tied into innumerable knots.
+
+"Well, they're jolly _good_ knots," was all he said.
+
+He had been looking forward to the holidays for a long time. He was to
+"go under canvas" at the end of the first week.
+
+The first day of the holidays began badly. William's father had been
+disturbed by William, whose room was just above and who had spent most
+of the night performing gymnastics as instructed by his scout-master.
+
+"No, he didn't _say_ do it at nights, but he said do it. He said it
+would make us grow up strong men. Don't you _want_ me to grow up a
+strong man? He's ever so strong an' _he_ did 'em. Why shun't I?"
+
+His mother found a pan with the bottom burnt out and at once accused
+William of the crime. William could not deny it.
+
+"Well, I was makin' sumthin', sumthin' he'd told us an' I forgot it.
+Well, I've _got_ to make things if I'm a scout. I didn't _mean_ to
+forget it. I won't forget it next time. It's a rotten pan, anyway, to
+burn itself into a hole jus' for that."
+
+At this point William's father received a note from a neighbour whose
+garden adjoined William's and whose life had been rendered intolerable
+by William's efforts upon his bugle.
+
+The bugle was confiscated.
+
+Darkness descended upon William's soul.
+
+"Well," he muttered, "I'm goin' under canvas next week an' I'm jolly
+_glad_ I'm goin'. P'r'aps you'll be sorry when I'm gone."
+
+He went out into the garden and stood gazing moodily into space, his
+hands in the pocket of his short scout trousers, for William dressed
+on any and every occasion in his official costume.
+
+"Can't even have the bugle," he complained to the landscape. "Can't
+even use their rotten ole pans. Can't tie knots in any of their ole
+things. Wot's the good of _bein'_ a scout?"
+
+His indignation grew and with it a desire to be avenged upon his
+family.
+
+"I'd like to _do_ somethin'," he confided to a rose bush with a
+ferocious scowl. "Somethin' jus' to show 'em."
+
+Then his face brightened. He had an idea.
+
+He'd get lost. He'd get really lost. They'd be sorry then alright.
+They'd p'r'aps think he was dead and they'd be sorry then alright. He
+imagined their relief, their tearful apologies when at last he
+returned to the bosom of his family. It was worth trying, anyway.
+
+He set off cheerfully down the drive. He decided to stay away for
+lunch and tea and supper, and to return at dusk to a penitent,
+conscience-stricken family.
+
+He first made his way to a neighbouring wood, where he arranged a pile
+of twigs for a fire, but they refused to light, even with the aid of
+the match that William found adhering to a piece of putty in the
+recess of one of his pockets.
+
+Slightly dispirited, he turned his attention to his handkerchief and
+tied knots in it till it gave way under the strain. William's
+handkerchiefs, being regularly used to perform the functions of
+blotting paper among other duties not generally entrusted to
+handkerchiefs, were always in the last stages of decrepitude.
+
+He felt rather bored and began to wonder whether it was lunch-time or
+not.
+
+He then "scouted" the wood and by his wood lore traced three distinct
+savage tribes' passage through the wood and found the tracks of
+several elephants. He engaged in deadly warfare with about
+half-a-dozen lions, then tired of the sport. It must be about
+lunch-time. He could imagine Ethel, his sister, hunting for him wildly
+high and low with growing pangs of remorse. She'd wish she'd made less
+fuss over that old scarf. His mother would recall the scene over the
+pan and her heart would fail her. His father would think with shame
+of his conduct in the matter of the bugle.
+
+"Poor William! How cruel we were! How different we shall be if only he
+comes home ...!"
+
+He could almost hear the words. Perhaps his mother was weeping now.
+His father--wild-eyed and white-lipped--was pacing his study, waiting
+for news, eager to atone for his unkindness to his missing son.
+Perhaps he had the bugle on the table ready to give back to him.
+Perhaps he'd even bought him a new one.
+
+He imagined the scene of his return. He would be nobly forgiving. He
+would accept the gift of the new bugle without a word of reproach. His
+heart thrilled at the thought of it.
+
+He was getting jolly hungry. It must be after lunch-time. But it would
+spoil it all to go home too early.
+
+Here he caught sight of a minute figure regarding him with a steady
+gaze and holding a paper bag in one hand.
+
+William stared down at him.
+
+"Wot you dressed up like that for?" said the apparition, with a touch
+of scorn in his voice.
+
+William looked down at his sacred uniform and scowled. "I'm a scout,"
+he said loftily.
+
+"'Cout?" repeated the apparition, with an air of polite boredom.
+"Wot's your name?"
+
+"William."
+
+"Mine's Thomas. Will you catch me a wopse? Look at my wopses!"
+
+He opened the bag slightly and William caught sight of a crowd of
+wasps buzzing about inside the bag.
+
+"Want more," demanded the infant. "Want lots more. Look. Snells!"
+
+He brought out a handful of snails from a miniature pocket, and put
+them on the ground.
+
+"Watch 'em put their horns out! Watch 'em walk. Look! They're
+_walkin'_. They're _walkin'_."
+
+His voice was a scream of ecstasy. He took them up and returned them
+to their pocket. From another he drew out a wriggling mass.
+
+"Wood-lice!" he explained, casually. "Got worms in 'nother pocket."
+
+He returned the wood-lice to his pocket except one, which he held
+between a finger and thumb laid thoughtfully against his lip. "Want
+wopses now. You get 'em for me."
+
+William roused himself from his bewilderment.
+
+"How--how do you catch 'em?" he said.
+
+"Wings," replied Thomas. "Get hold of their wings an' they don't
+sting. Sometimes they do, though," he added casually. "Then your hands
+go big."
+
+A wasp settled near him, and very neatly the young naturalist picked
+him up and put him in his paper prison.
+
+"Now you get one," he ordered William.
+
+William determined not to be outshone by this minute but dauntless
+stranger. As a wasp obligingly settled on a flower near him, he put
+out his hand, only to withdraw it with a yell of pain and apply it to
+his mouth.
+
+"Oo--ou!" he said. "Crumbs!"
+
+Thomas emitted a peal of laughter.
+
+"You stung?" he said. "Did it sting you? _Funny_!"
+
+William's expression of rage and pain was exquisite to him.
+
+"Come on, boy!" he ordered at last. "Let's go somewhere else."
+
+William's bewildered dignity made a last stand.
+
+"_You_ can go," he said. "I'm playin' by myself."
+
+"All right!" agreed Thomas. "You play by you'self an' me play by
+myself, an' we'll be together--playin' by ourselves."
+
+He set off down a path, and meekly William followed.
+
+It must be jolly late--almost tea-time.
+
+"I'm hungry," said Thomas suddenly. "Give me some brekfust."
+
+"I haven't got any," said William irritably.
+
+"Well, find some," persisted the infant.
+
+"I can't. There isn't any to find."
+
+"Well, buy some!"
+
+"I haven't any money."
+
+"Well, buy some money."
+
+Goaded, William turned on him.
+
+"Go away!" he bellowed.
+
+Thomas's blue eyes, beneath a mop of curls, met his coldly.
+
+"Don't talk so loud," he said sternly. "There's some blackberries
+there. You can get me some blackberries."
+
+William began to walk away, but Thomas trotted by his side.
+
+"There!" he persisted. "Jus' where I'm pointing. Lovely great big suge
+ones. Get 'em for my brekfust."
+
+Reluctantly the scout turned to perform his deed of kindness.
+
+Thomas consumed blackberries faster than William could gather them.
+
+"Up there," he commanded. "No, the one right up there I want. I want
+it _kick_. I've etten all the others."
+
+William was scratched and breathless, and his shirt was torn when at
+last the rapacious Thomas was satisfied. Then he partook of a little
+refreshment himself, while Thomas turned out his pockets.
+
+"I'll let 'em go now," he said.
+
+One of his wood-lice, however, stayed motionless where he put it.
+
+"Wot's the matter with it?" said William, curiously.
+
+"I 'speck me's the matter wif it," said Thomas succinctly. "Now, get
+me some lickle fishes, an' tadpoles an' water sings," he went on
+cheerfully.
+
+William turned round from his blackberry-bush.
+
+"Well, I won't," he said decidedly. "I've had enough!"
+
+"You've had 'nuff brekfust," said Thomas sternly. "I've found a
+lickle tin for the sings, so be _kick_. Oo, here's a fly! A green fly!
+It's sittin' on my finger. Does it like me 'cause it's sittin' on my
+finger?"
+
+"No," said William, turning a purple-stained countenance round
+scornfully.
+
+It must be nearly night. He didn't want to be too hard on them, to
+make his mother ill or anything. He wanted to be as kind as possible.
+He'd forgive them at once when he got home. He'd ask for one or two
+things he wanted, as well as the new bugle. A new penknife, and an
+engine with a real boiler.
+
+"Waffor does it not like me?" persisted Thomas.
+
+William was silent. Question and questioner were beneath contempt.
+
+"Waffor does it not like me?" he shouted stridently.
+
+"Flies don't like people, silly."
+
+"Waffor not?" retorted Thomas.
+
+"They don't know anything about them."
+
+"Well, I'll _tell_ it about me. My name's Thomas," he said to the fly
+politely. "Now does it like me?"
+
+William groaned. But the fly had now vanished, and Thomas once more
+grew impatient.
+
+"Come _on_!" he said. "Come on an' find sings for me."
+
+William's manly spirit was by this time so far broken that he followed
+his new acquaintance to a neighbouring pond, growling threateningly
+but impotently.
+
+"Now," commanded his small tyrant, "take off your boots an' stockings
+an' go an' find things for me."
+
+"Take off yours," growled William, "an' find things for yourself."
+
+"No," said Thomas, "crockerdiles might be there an' bite my toes. An
+pittanopotamuses might be there. If you don't go in, I'll scream an'
+scream an' _scream_."
+
+William went in.
+
+He walked gingerly about the muddy pond. Thomas watched him critically
+from the bank.
+
+"I don't like your _hair_," he said confidingly.
+
+William growled.
+
+He caught various small swimming objects in the tin, and brought them
+to the bank for inspection.
+
+"I want more'n that," said Thomas calmly.
+
+"Well, you won't _get_ it," retorted William.
+
+He began to put on his boots and stockings, wondering desperately how
+to rid himself of his unwanted companion. But Fate solved the problem.
+With a loud cry a woman came running down the path.
+
+"Tommy," she said. "My little darling Tommy. I thought you were lost!"
+She turned furiously to William. "You ought to be ashamed of
+yourself," she said. "A great boy of your age leading a little child
+like this into mischief! If his father was here, he'd show you. You
+ought to know better! And you a scout."
+
+William gasped.
+
+[Illustration: SHE TURNED FURIOUSLY TO WILLIAM. "YOU OUGHT TO BE
+ASHAMED OF YOURSELF," SHE SAID.]
+
+"Well!" he said. "An' I've bin doin' deeds of kindness on him all
+morning. I've----"
+
+She turned away indignantly, holding Thomas's hand.
+
+"You're never to go with that nasty rough boy again, darling," she
+said.
+
+"Got lots of wopses an' some fishes," murmured Thomas contentedly.
+
+They disappeared down the path. With a feeling of depression and
+disillusionment William turned to go home.
+
+Then his spirits rose. After all, he'd got rid of Thomas, and he was
+going home to a contrite family. It must be about supper-time. It
+would be getting dark soon. But it still stayed light a long time now.
+It wouldn't matter if he just got in for supper. It would have given
+them time to think things over. He could see his father speaking
+unsteadily, and holding out his hand.
+
+"My boy ... let bygones be bygones ... if there is anything you
+want...."
+
+His father had never said anything of this sort to him yet, but, by a
+violent stretch of imagination, he could just conceive it.
+
+His mother, of course, would cry over him, and so would Ethel.
+
+"Dear William ... do forgive us ... we have been so miserable since
+you went away ... we will never treat you so again."
+
+This again was unlike the Ethel he knew, but sorrow has a refining
+effect on all characters.
+
+He entered the gate self-consciously. Ethel was at the front-door. She
+looked at his torn shirt and mud-caked knees.
+
+"You'd better hurry if you're going to be ready for lunch," she said
+coldly.
+
+"Lunch?" faltered William. "What time is it?"
+
+"Ten to one. Father's in, so I warn you," she added unpleasantly.
+
+He entered the house in a dazed fashion. His mother was in the hall.
+
+"_William!_" she said impatiently. "Another shirt torn! You really are
+careless. You'll have to stop being a scout if that's the way you
+treat your clothes. And _look_ at your knees!"
+
+Pale and speechless, he went towards the stairs. His father was coming
+out of the library smoking a pipe. He looked at his son grimly.
+
+"If you aren't downstairs _cleaned_ by the time the lunch-bell goes,
+my son," he said, "you won't see that bugle of yours this side of
+Christmas."
+
+William swallowed.
+
+"Yes, father," he said meekly.
+
+He went slowly upstairs to the bathroom.
+
+Life was a rotten show.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+THE HELPER
+
+
+The excitement began at breakfast. William descended slightly late,
+and, after receiving his parents' reproaches with an air of weary
+boredom, ate his porridge listlessly. He had come to the conclusion
+that morning that there was a certain monotonous sameness about life.
+One got up, and had one's breakfast, and went to school, and had one's
+dinner, and went to school, and had one's tea, and played, and had
+one's supper, and went to bed. Even the fact that to-day was a
+half-term holiday did not dispel his depression. _One_ day's holiday!
+What good was _one_ day? We all have experienced such feelings.
+
+Half abstractedly he began to listen to his elders' conversation.
+
+"They promised to be here by _nine_," his mother was saying. "I do
+hope they won't be late!"
+
+"Well, it's not much good their coming if the other house isn't ready,
+is it?" said William's grown-up sister Ethel. "I don't believe they've
+even finished _painting_!"
+
+"I'm so sorry it's William's half-term holiday," sighed Mrs. Brown.
+"He'll be frightfully in the way."
+
+William's outlook on life brightened considerably.
+
+"They comin' removin' this _morning_?" he inquired cheerfully.
+
+"Yes, DO try not to hinder them, William."
+
+"_Me_?" he said indignantly. "I'm goin' to _help_!"
+
+"If William's going to help," remarked his father, "thank Heaven _I_
+shan't be here. Your assistance, William, always seems to be even more
+devastating in its results than your opposition!"
+
+William smiled politely. Sarcasm was always wasted on William.
+
+"Well," he said, rising from the table, "I'd better go an' be gettin'
+ready to help."
+
+Ten minutes later Mrs. Brown, coming out of the kitchen from her
+interview with the cook, found to her amazement that the steps of the
+front door were covered with small ornaments. As she stood staring
+William appeared from the drawing-room staggering under the weight of
+a priceless little statuette that had been the property of Mr. Brown's
+great grandfather.
+
+"WILLIAM!" she gasped.
+
+"I'm gettin' all the little things ready for 'em jus' to carry
+straight down. If I put everything on the steps they don't need come
+into the house at all. You _said_ you didn't want 'em trampin' in
+dirty boots!"
+
+It took a quarter of an hour to replace them. Over the fragments of a
+blue delf bowl Mrs. Brown sighed deeply.
+
+"I wish you'd broken _anything_ but this, William."
+
+"Well," he excused himself, "you said things _do_ get broken removin'.
+You said so _yourself_! I didn't break it on purpose. It jus' got
+broken removin'."
+
+At this point the removers arrived.
+
+There were three of them. One was very fat and jovial, and one was
+thin and harassed-looking, and a third wore a sheepish smile and
+walked with a slightly unsteady gait. They made profuse apologies for
+their lateness.
+
+"You'd better begin with the dining-room," said Mrs. Brown. "Will you
+pack the china first? William, get out of the _way_!"
+
+She left them packing, assisted by William. William carried the things
+to them from the sideboard cupboards.
+
+"What's your names?" he asked, as he stumbled over a glass bowl that
+he had inadvertently left on the hearth-rug. His progress was further
+delayed while he conscientiously picked up the fragments. "Things _do_
+get broken removin'," he murmured.
+
+"Mine is Mister Blake and 'is is Mister Johnson, and 'is is Mister
+Jones."
+
+"Which is Mr. Jones? The one that walks funny?"
+
+They shook with herculean laughter, so much so that a china cream jug
+slipped from Mr. Blake's fingers and lay in innumerable pieces round
+his boot. He kicked it carelessly aside.
+
+"Yus," he said, bending anew to his task, "'im wot walks funny."
+
+"Why's he walk funny?" persisted William. "Has he hurt his legs?"
+
+"Yus," said Blake with a wink. "'E 'urt 'em at the Blue Cow comin'
+'ere."
+
+Mr. Jones' sheepish smile broadened into a guffaw.
+
+"Well, you rest," said William sympathetically. "You lie down on the
+sofa an' rest. _I'll_ help, so's you needn't do _anything_!"
+
+Mr. Jones grew hilarious.
+
+"Come on!" he said. "My eye! This young gent's all _roight_, 'e is.
+You lie down an' rest, 'e says! Well, 'ere goes!"
+
+To the huge delight of his companions, he stretched himself at length
+upon the chesterfield and closed his eyes. William surveyed him with
+pleasure.
+
+"That's right," he said. "I'll--I'll show you my dog when your legs
+are better. I've gotter _fine_ dog!"
+
+"What sort of a dog?" said Mr. Blake, resting from his labours to ask
+the question.
+
+"He's no _partic'lar_ sort of a dog," said William honestly, "but he's
+a jolly fine dog. You should see him do tricks!"
+
+[Illustration: WILLIAM SURVEYED HIM WITH PLEASURE. "I'LL SHOW YOU MY
+DOG WHEN YOUR LEGS ARE BETTER," HE SAID.]
+
+"Well, let's 'ave a look at 'im. Fetch 'im art."
+
+William, highly delighted, complied, and Jumble showed off his best
+tricks to an appreciative audience of two (Mr. Jones had already
+succumbed to the drowsiness that had long been creeping over him and
+was lying dead to the world on the chesterfield).
+
+Jumble begged for a biscuit, he walked (perforce, for William's hand
+firmly imprisoned his front ones) on his hind legs, he leapt over
+William's arm. He leapt into the very centre of an old Venetian glass
+that was on the floor by the packing-case and cut his foot slightly on
+a piece of it, but fortunately suffered no ill-effects.
+
+William saw consternation on Mr. Johnson's face and hastened to gather
+the pieces and fling them lightly into the waste-paper basket.
+
+"It's all right," he said soothingly. "She _said_ things get broken
+removin'."
+
+When Mrs. Brown entered the room ten minutes later, Mr. Jones was
+still asleep, Jumble was still performing, and Messrs. Blake and
+Johnson were standing in negligent attitudes against the wall
+appraising the eager Jumble with sportsmanlike eyes.
+
+"'E's no breed," Mr. Blake was saying, "but 'e's orl _roight_. I'd
+loik to see 'im arfter a rat. I bet 'e'd----"
+
+Seeing Mrs. Brown, he hastily seized a vase from the mantel-piece and
+carried it over to the packing case, where he appeared suddenly to be
+working against time. Mr. Johnson followed his example.
+
+Mrs. Brown's eyes fell upon Mr. Jones and she gasped.
+
+"Whatever--" she began.
+
+"'E's not very well 'm," explained Mr. Blake obsequiously. "'E'll be
+orl roight when 'e's slep' it orf. 'E's always orl roight when 'e's
+slep' 'it orf."
+
+"He's hurt his legs," explained William. "He hurt his legs at the Blue
+Cow. He's jus' _restin'_!"
+
+Mrs. Brown swallowed and counted twenty to herself. It was a practice
+she had acquired in her youth for use in times when words crowded upon
+her too thick and fast for utterance.
+
+At last she spoke with unusual bitterness.
+
+"Need he rest with his muddy boots on my chesterfield?"
+
+At this point Mr. Jones awoke from sleep, hypnotised out of it by her
+cold eye.
+
+He was profuse in his apologies. He believed he had fainted. He had
+had a bad headache, brought on probably by exposure to the early
+morning sun. He felt much better after his faint. He regretted having
+fainted on to the lady's sofa. He partially brushed off the traces of
+his dirty boots with an equally dirty hand.
+
+"You've done _nothing_ in this room," said Mrs. Brown. "We shall
+_never_ get finished. William, come away! I'm sure you're hindering
+them."
+
+"Me?" said William in righteous indignation. "_Me?_ I'm _helpin'_!"
+
+After what seemed to Mrs. Brown to be several hours they began on the
+heavy furniture. They staggered out with the dining-room sideboard,
+carrying away part of the staircase with it in transit. Mrs. Brown,
+with a paling face, saw her beloved antique cabinet dismembered
+against the doorpost, and watched her favourite collapsible card-table
+perform a thorough and permanent collapse. Even the hat-stand from the
+hall was devoid of some pegs when it finally reached the van.
+
+"This is simply breaking my heart," moaned Mrs. Brown.
+
+"Where's William?" said Ethel, gloomily, looking round.
+
+"'Sh! I don't know. He disappeared a few minutes ago. I don't know
+_where_ he is. I only hope he'll stay there!"
+
+The removers now proceeded to the drawing-room and prepared to take
+out the piano. They tried it every way. The first way took a piece out
+of the doorpost, the second made a dint two inches deep in the piano,
+the third knocked over the grandfather clock, which fell with a
+resounding crash, breaking its glass, and incidentally a tall china
+plant stand that happened to be in its line of descent.
+
+Mrs. Brown sat down and covered her face with her hands.
+
+"It's like some dreadful _nightmare_!" she groaned.
+
+Messrs. Blake, Johnson and Jones paused to wipe the sweat of honest
+toil from their brows.
+
+"I dunno _'ow_ it's to be got out," said Mr. Blake despairingly.
+
+"It got in!" persisted Mrs. Brown. "If it got in it can get out."
+
+"We'll 'ave another try," said Mr. Blake with the air of a hero
+leading a forlorn hope. "Come on, mites."
+
+This time was successful and the piano passed safely into the hall,
+leaving in its wake only a dislocated door handle and a torn chair
+cover. It then passed slowly and devastatingly down the hall and
+drive.
+
+The next difficulty was to get it into the van. Messrs. Blake, Johnson
+and Jones tried alone and failed. For ten minutes they tried alone and
+failed. Between each attempt they paused to mop their brows and throw
+longing glances towards the Blue Cow, whose signboard was visible down
+the road.
+
+The gardener, the cook, the housemaid, and Ethel all gave their
+assistance, and at last, with a superhuman effort, they raised it to
+the van.
+
+They then all rested weakly against the nearest support and gasped for
+breath.
+
+"Well," said Mr. Jones, looking reproachfully at the mistress of the
+house, "I've never 'andled a pianner----"
+
+At this moment a well-known voice was heard in the recesses of the
+van, behind the piano and sideboard and hat-stand.
+
+"Hey! let me out! What you've gone blockin' up the van for? I can't
+get out!"
+
+There was a horror-stricken silence. Then Ethel said sharply:
+
+"What did you go _in_ for?"
+
+The mysterious voice came again with a note of irritability.
+
+"Well, I was _restin'_. I mus' have some rest, mustn't I? I've been
+helpin' all mornin'."
+
+"Well, couldn't you _see_ we were putting things in?"
+
+The unseen presence spoke again.
+
+"No, I can't. I wasn't lookin'!"
+
+"You can't get out, William," said Mrs. Brown desperately. "We can't
+move everything again. You must just stop there till it's unpacked.
+We'll try to push your lunch in to you."
+
+There was determination in the voice that answered, "I want to get
+out! I'm _going_ to get out!"
+
+There came tumultuous sounds--the sound of the ripping of some
+material, of the smashing of glass and of William's voice softly
+ejaculating "Crumbs! that ole lookin' glass gettin' in the way!"
+
+"You'd better take out the piano again," said Mrs. Brown wanly. "It's
+the only thing to do."
+
+With straining, and efforts, and groans, and a certain amount of
+destruction, the piano was eventually lowered again to the ground.
+Then the sideboard and hat-stand were moved to one side, and finally
+there emerged from the struggle--William and Jumble. Jumble's coat was
+covered with little pieces of horsehair, as though from the interior
+of a chair. William's jersey was torn from shoulder to hem. He looked
+stern and indignant.
+
+[Illustration: WILLIAM'S JERSEY WAS TORN FROM SHOULDER TO HEM. HE
+LOOKED STERN AND INDIGNANT.]
+
+"A nice thing to do!" he began bitterly. "Shuttin' me up in that ole
+van. How d'you expect me to breathe, shut in with ole bits of
+furniture. Folks can't live without air, can they? A nice thing if
+you'd found me _dead_!"
+
+Emotion had deprived his audience of speech for the time being.
+
+With a certain amount of dignity he walked past them into the house
+followed by Jumble.
+
+It took another quarter of an hour to replace the piano. As they were
+making the final effort William came out of the house.
+
+"Here, _I'll_ help!" he said, and laid a finger on the side. His
+presence rather hindered their efforts, but they succeeded in spite of
+it. William, however, was under the impression that his strength alone
+had wrought the miracle. He put on an outrageous swagger.
+
+"I'm jolly strong," he confided to Mr. Blake. "I'm stronger than most
+folk."
+
+Here the removers decided that it was time for their midday repast and
+retired to consume it in the shady back garden. All except Mr. Jones,
+who said he would go down the road for a drink of lemonade. William
+said that there was lemonade in the larder and offered to fetch it,
+but Mr. Jones said hastily that he wanted a special sort. He had to be
+very particular what sort of lemonade he drank.
+
+Mrs. Brown and Ethel sat down to a scratch meal in the library.
+William followed his two new friends wistfully into the garden.
+
+"William! Come to lunch!" called Mrs. Brown.
+
+"Oh, leave him alone, Mother," pleaded Ethel. "Let us have a little
+peace."
+
+But William did not absent himself for long.
+
+"I want a red handkerchief," he demanded loudly from the hall.
+
+There was no response.
+
+He appeared in the doorway.
+
+"I say, I want a red handkerchief. Have you gotter red handkerchief,
+Mother?"
+
+"No, dear."
+
+"Have you Ethel?"
+
+"NO!"
+
+"All right," said William aggrievedly. "You needn't get mad, need you?
+I'm only askin' for a red handkerchief. I don't want a red
+handkerchief off you if you haven't _got_ it, do I?"
+
+"William, go _away_ and shut the door."
+
+William obeyed. Peace reigned throughout the house and garden for the
+next half-hour. Then Mrs. Brown's conscience began to prick her.
+
+"William must have something to eat, dear. Do go and find him."
+
+Ethel went out to the back garden. A scene of happy restfulness met
+her gaze. Mr. Blake reclined against one tree consuming bread and
+cheese, while a red handkerchief covered his knees. Mr. Johnson
+reclined against another tree, also consuming bread and cheese, while
+a red handkerchief covered his knees. William leant against a third
+tree consuming a little heap of scraps collected from the larder,
+while on his knees also reposed what was apparently a red
+handkerchief. Jumble sat in the middle catching with nimble, snapping
+jaws dainties flung to him from time to time by his circle of
+admirers.
+
+Ethel advanced nearer and inspected William's red handkerchief with
+dawning horror in her face. Then she gave a scream.
+
+"_William_, that's my silk scarf! It was for a hat. I've only just
+bought it. Oh, mother, do _do_ something to William! He's taken my new
+silk scarf--the one I'd got to trim my Leghorn. He's the most _awful_
+boy. I don't think----"
+
+Mrs. Brown came out hastily to pacify her. William handed the silk
+scarf back to its rightful owner.
+
+"Well, I'm _sorry_. I _thought_ it was a red handkerchief. It _looked_
+like a red handkerchief. Well, how could I _know_ it wasn't a red
+handkerchief? I've given it her back. It's all right, Jumble's only
+bit one end of it. And that's only jam what dropped on it. Well, it'll
+_wash_, won't it? Well, I've said I'm sorry.
+
+"I don't get much _thanks_," William continued bitterly. "Me givin' up
+my half holiday to helpin' you removin', an' I don't get much
+_thanks_!"
+
+"Well, William," said Mrs. Brown, "you can go to the new house with
+the first van. He'll be less in the way there," she confided
+distractedly to the world in general.
+
+William was delighted with this proposal. At the new house there was a
+fresh set of men to unload the van, and there was the thrill of making
+their acquaintance.
+
+Then the front gate was only just painted and bore a notice "Wet
+Paint." It was, of course, incumbent upon William to test personally
+the wetness of the paint. His trousers bore testimony to the testing
+to their last day, in spite of many applications of turpentine. Jumble
+also tested it, and had in fact to be disconnected with the front gate
+by means of a pair of scissors. For many weeks the first thing that
+visitors to the Brown household saw was a little tuft of Jumble's hair
+adorning the front gate.
+
+William then proceeded to "help" to the utmost of his power. He
+stumbled up from the van to the house staggering under the weight of a
+medicine cupboard, and leaving a trail of broken bottles and little
+pools of medicine behind. Jumble sampled many of the latter and became
+somewhat thoughtful.
+
+It was found that the door of a small bedroom at the top of the stairs
+was locked, and this fact (added to Mr. Jones' failure to return from
+his lemonade) rather impeded the progress of the unpackers.
+
+"Brike it open," suggested one.
+
+"Better not."
+
+"Per'aps the key's insoide," suggested another brightly.
+
+William had one of his brilliant ideas.
+
+"Tell you what I'll do," he said eagerly and importantly. "I'll climb
+up to the roof an' get down the chimney an' open it from the inside."
+
+They greeted the proposal with guffaws.
+
+They did not know William.
+
+It was growing dusk when Mrs. Brown and Ethel and the second van load
+appeared.
+
+"What is that on the gate?" said Ethel, stooping to examine the part
+of Jumble's coat that brightened up the dulness of the black paint.
+
+"It's that _dog_!" she said.
+
+Then came a ghost-like cry, apparently from the heavens.
+
+"Mother!"
+
+Mrs. Brown raised a startled countenance to the skies. There seemed to
+be nothing in the skies that could have addressed her.
+
+Then she suddenly saw a small face peering down over the coping of the
+roof. It was a face that was very frightened, under a superficial
+covering of soot. It was William's face.
+
+"I can't get down," it said hoarsely.
+
+Mrs. Brown's heart stood still.
+
+"Stay where you are, William," she said faintly. "Don't _move_."
+
+The entire staff of removers was summoned. A ladder was borrowed from
+a neighbouring garden and found to be too short. Another was fetched
+and fastened to it. William, at his dizzy height, was growing
+irritable.
+
+"I can't stay up here for _ever_," he said severely.
+
+At last he was rescued by his friend Mr. Blake and brought down to
+safety. His account was confused.
+
+"I wanted to _help_. I wanted to open that door for 'em, so I climbed
+up by the scullery roof, an' the ivy, an' the drain-pipe, an' I tried
+to get down the chimney. I didn't know which one it was, but I tried
+'em all an' they were all too little, an' I tried to get down by the
+ivy again but I couldn't, so I waited till you came an' hollered out.
+I wasn't scared," he said, fixing them with a stern eye. "I wasn't
+scared a bit. I jus' wanted to get down. An' this ole black chimney
+stuff tastes beastly. No, I'm all right," he ended, in answer to
+tender inquiries. "I'll go on helpin'."
+
+He was with difficulty persuaded to retire to bed at a slightly
+earlier hour than usual.
+
+"Well," he confessed, "I'm a bit tired with helpin' all day."
+
+Soon after he had gone Mr. Brown and Robert arrived.
+
+"And how have things gone to-day?" said Mr. Brown cheerfully.
+
+"Thank heaven William goes to school to-morrow," said Ethel devoutly.
+
+Upstairs in his room William was studying himself in the glass--torn
+jersey, paint-stained trousers, blackened face.
+
+"Well," he said with a deep sigh of satisfaction, "I guess I've jolly
+well _helped_ to-day!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+WILLIAM AND THE SMUGGLER
+
+
+William's family were going to the seaside for February. It was not an
+ideal month for the seaside, but William's father's doctor had ordered
+him a complete rest and change.
+
+"We shall have to take William with us, you know," his wife had said
+as they discussed plans.
+
+"Good heavens!" groaned Mr. Brown. "I thought it was to be a _rest_
+cure."
+
+"Yes, but you know what he is," his wife urged. "I daren't leave him
+with anyone. Certainly not with Ethel. We shall have to take them
+both. Ethel will help with him."
+
+Ethel was William's grown-up sister.
+
+"All right," agreed her husband finally. "You can take all
+responsibility. I formally disown him from now till we get back. I
+don't care _what_ trouble he lands you in. You know what he is and you
+deliberately take him away with me on a rest cure!"
+
+"It can't be helped dear," said his wife mildly.
+
+William was thrilled by the news. It was several years since he had
+been at the seaside.
+
+"Will I be able to go swimmin'?"
+
+"It _won't_ be too cold! Well, if I wrap up warm, will I be able to go
+swimmin'?"
+
+"Can I catch fishes?"
+
+"Are there lots of smugglers smugglin' there?"
+
+"Well, I'm only _askin'_, you needn't get mad!"
+
+One afternoon Mrs. Brown missed her best silver tray and searched the
+house high and low for it wildly, while dark suspicions of each
+servant in turn arose in her usually unsuspicious breast.
+
+It was finally discovered in the garden. William had dug a large hole
+in one of the garden beds. Into the bottom of this he had fitted the
+tray and had lined the sides with bricks. He had then filled it with
+water, and taking off his shoes and stockings stepped up and down his
+narrow pool. He was distinctly aggrieved by Mrs. Brown's reproaches.
+
+"Well, I was practisin' paddlin', ready for goin' to the seaside. I
+didn't _mean_ to rune your tray. You talk as if I _meant_ to rune your
+tray. I was only practisin' paddlin'."
+
+At last the day of departure arrived. William was instructed to put
+his things ready on his bed, and his mother would then come and pack
+for him. He summoned her proudly over the balusters after about twenty
+minutes.
+
+"I've got everythin' ready, Mother."
+
+Mrs. Brown ascended to his room.
+
+Upon his bed was a large pop-gun, a football, a dormouse in a cage, a
+punchball on a stand, a large box of "curios," and a buckskin which
+was his dearest possession and had been presented to him by an uncle
+from South Africa.
+
+Mrs. Brown sat down weakly on a chair.
+
+"You can't possibly take any of these things," she said faintly but
+firmly.
+
+"Well, you _said_ put my things on the bed for you to pack an' I've
+put them on the bed, an' now you say----"
+
+"I meant clothes."
+
+"Oh, _clothes_!" scornfully. "I never thought of _clothes_."
+
+"Well, you can't take any of these things, anyway."
+
+William hastily began to defend his collection of treasures.
+
+"I _mus'_ have the pop-gun 'cause you never know. There may be pirates
+an' smugglers down there, an' you can _kill_ a man with a pop-gun if
+you get near enough and know the right place, an' I might need it. An'
+I _must_ have the football to play on the sands with, an' the
+punchball to practise boxin' on, an' I _must_ have the dormouse,
+'cause--'cause to feed him, an' I _must_ have this box of things and
+this skin to show to folks I meet down at the seaside, 'cause they're
+int'restin'."
+
+But Mrs. Brown was firm, and William reluctantly yielded.
+
+In a moment of weakness, finding that his trunk was only three-quarter
+filled by his things, she slipped in his beloved buckskin, while
+William himself put the pop-gun inside when no one was looking.
+
+They had been unable to obtain a furnished house, so had to be content
+with a boarding house. Mr. Brown was eloquent on the subject.
+
+"If you're deliberately turning that child loose into a boarding-house
+full, presumably, of quiet, inoffensive people, you deserve all you
+get. It's nothing to do with me. I'm going to have a rest cure. I've
+disowned him. He can do as he likes."
+
+"It can't be helped, dear," said Mrs. Brown mildly.
+
+Mr. Brown had engaged one of the huts on the beach chiefly for
+William's use, and William proudly furnished its floor with the
+buckskin.
+
+"It was killed by my uncle," he announced to the small crowd of
+children at the door who had watched with interest his painstaking
+measuring of the floor in order to place his treasure in the exact
+centre. "He killed it dead--jus' like this."
+
+William had never heard the story of the death of the buck, and
+therefore had invented one in which he had gradually come to confuse
+himself with his uncle in the r�le of hero.
+
+"It was walkin' about an' I--he--met it. I hadn't got no gun, and it
+sprung at me an' I caught hold of its neck with one hand an' I broke
+off its horns with the other, an' I knocked it over. An' it got up an'
+ran at me--him--again, an' I jus' tripped it up with my foot an' it
+fell over again, an' then I jus' give it one big hit with my fist
+right on its head, an' it killed it an' it died!"
+
+There was an incredulous gasp.
+
+Then there came a clear, high voice from behind the crowd.
+
+"Little boy, you are not telling the truth."
+
+William looked up into a thin, spectacled face.
+
+"I wasn't tellin' it to you," he remarked, wholly unabashed.
+
+A little girl with dark curls took up the cudgels quite needlessly in
+William's defence.
+
+"He's a very _brave_ boy to do all that," she said indignantly. "So
+don't you go _saying_ things to him."
+
+"Well," said William, flattered but modest, "I didn't say I did it,
+did I? I said my uncle--well, partly my uncle."
+
+Mr. Percival Jones looked down at him in righteous wrath.
+
+"You're a very wicked little boy. I'll tell your father--er--I'll tell
+your sister."
+
+For Ethel was approaching in the distance and Mr. Percival Jones was
+in no way loth to converse with her.
+
+[Illustration: "YOU'RE A VERY WICKED LITTLE BOY!" SAID MR. PERCIVAL
+JONES.]
+
+Mr. Percival Jones was a thin, pale, �sthetic would-be poet who lived
+and thrived on the admiration of the elderly ladies of his
+boarding-house, and had done so for the past ten years. Once he had
+published a volume of poems at his own expense. He lived at the same
+boarding-house as the Browns, and had seen Ethel in the distance to
+meals. He had admired the red lights in her dark hair and the blue
+of her eyes, and had even gone so far as to wonder whether she
+possessed the solid and enduring qualities which he would require of
+one whom in his mind he referred to as his "future spouse."
+
+He began to walk down the beach with her.
+
+"I should like to speak to you--er--about your brother, Miss Brown,"
+he began, "if you can spare me the time, of course. I trust I do not
+er--intrude or presume. He is a charming little man but--er--I
+fear--not veracious. May I accompany you a little on your way? I
+am--er--much attracted to your--er--family. I--er--should like to know
+you all better. I am--er--deeply attached to your--er--little brother,
+but grieved to find that he does not--er--adhere to the truth in his
+statements. I--er----"
+
+Miss Brown's blue eyes were dancing with merriment.
+
+"Oh, don't you worry about William," she said. "He's _awful_. It's
+much best just to leave him alone. Isn't the sea gorgeous to-day?"
+
+They walked along the sands.
+
+Meanwhile William had invited his small defender into his hut.
+
+"You can look round," he said graciously. "You've seen my skin what
+I--he--killed, haven't you? This is my gun. You put a cork in there
+and it comes out hard when you shoot it. It would kill anyone,"
+impressively, "if you did it near enough to them and at the right
+place. An' I've got a dormouse, an' a punchball, an' a box of things,
+an' a football, but they wouldn't let me bring them," bitterly.
+
+"It's a _lovely_ skin," said the little girl. "What's your name?"
+
+"William. What's yours?"
+
+"Peggy."
+
+"Well, let's be on a desert island, shall we? An' nothin' to eat nor
+anything, shall we? Come on."
+
+She nodded eagerly.
+
+"How _lovely_!"
+
+They wandered out on to the promenade, and among a large crowd of
+passers-by bemoaned the lonely emptiness of the island and scanned the
+horizon for a sail. In the far distance on the cliffs could be seen
+the figures of Mr. Percival Jones and William's sister, walking slowly
+away from the town.
+
+At last they turned towards the hut.
+
+"We must find somethin' to eat," said William firmly. "We can't let
+ourselves starve to death."
+
+"Shrimps?" suggested Peggy cheerfully.
+
+"We haven't got nets," said William. "We couldn't save them from the
+wreck."
+
+"Periwinkles?"
+
+"There aren't any on this island. I know! Seaweed! An' we'll cook it."
+
+"Oh, how _lovely_!"
+
+He gathered up a handful of seaweed and they entered the hut, leaving
+a white handkerchief tied on to the door to attract the attention of
+any passing ship. The hut was provided with a gas ring and William,
+disregarding his family's express injunction, lit this and put on a
+saucepan filled with water and seaweed.
+
+"We'll pretend it's a wood fire," he said. "We couldn't make a real
+wood fire out on the prom. They'd stop us. So we'll pretend this is.
+An' we'll pretend we saved a saucepan from the wreck."
+
+After a few minutes he took off the pan and drew out a long green
+strand.
+
+"You eat it first," he said politely.
+
+The smell of it was not pleasant. Peggy drew back.
+
+"Oh, no, you first!"
+
+"No, you," said William nobly. "You look hungrier than me."
+
+She bit off a piece, chewed it, shut her eyes and swallowed.
+
+"Now you," she said with a shade of vindictiveness in her voice.
+"You're not going to not have any."
+
+William took a mouthful and shivered.
+
+"I think it's gone bad," he said critically.
+
+Peggy's rosy face had paled.
+
+"I'm going home," she said suddenly.
+
+"You can't go home on a desert island," said William severely.
+
+"Well, I'm going to be rescued then," she said.
+
+"I think I am, too," said William.
+
+It was lunch time when William arrived at the boarding-house. Mr.
+Percival Jones had moved his place so as to be nearer Ethel. He was
+now convinced that she was possessed of every virtue his future
+"spouse" could need. He conversed brightly and incessantly during the
+meal. Mr. Brown grew restive.
+
+"The man will drive me mad," he said afterwards. "Bleating away!
+What's he bleating about anyway? Can't you stop him bleating, Ethel?
+You seem to have influence. Bleat! Bleat! Bleat! Good Lord! And me
+here for a _rest_ cure!"
+
+At this point he was summoned to the telephone and returned
+distraught.
+
+"It's an unknown female," he said. "She says that a boy of the name of
+William from this boarding-house has made her little girl sick by
+forcing her to eat seaweed. She says it's brutal. Does anyone _know_
+I'm here for a rest cure? Where is the boy? Good heavens! Where is the
+boy?"
+
+But William, like Peggy, had retired from the world for a space. He
+returned later on in the afternoon, looking pale and chastened. He
+bore the reproaches of his family in stately silence.
+
+Mr. Percival Jones was in great evidence in the drawing-room.
+
+"And soon--er--soon the--er--Spring will be with us once more," he was
+saying in his high-pitched voice as he leant back in his chair and
+joined the tips of his fingers together. "The Spring--ah--the Spring!
+I have a--er--little effort I--er--composed on--er--the Coming of
+Spring--I--er--will read to you some time if you will--ah--be kind
+enough to--er--criticise--ah--impartially."
+
+"_Criticise_!" they chorused. "It will be above criticism. Oh, do read
+it to us, Mr. Jones."
+
+"I will--er--this evening." His eyes wandered to the door, hoping and
+longing for his beloved's entrance. But Ethel was with her father at a
+matin�e at the Winter Gardens and he looked and longed in vain. In
+spite of this, however, the springs of his eloquence did not run dry,
+and he held forth ceaselessly to his little circle of admirers.
+
+"The simple--ah--pleasures of nature. How few of us--alas!--have
+the--er--gift of appreciating them rightly. This--er--little seaside
+hamlet with its--er--sea, its--er--promenade, its--er--Winter Gardens!
+How beautiful it is! How few appreciate it rightly."
+
+Here William entered and Mr. Percival Jones broke off abruptly. He
+disliked William.
+
+"Ah! here comes our little friend. He looks pale. Remorse, my young
+friend? Ah, beware of untruthfulness. Beware of the beginnings of a
+life of lies and deception." He laid a hand on William's head and cold
+shivers ran down William's spine. "'Be good, sweet child, and let who
+will be clever,' as the poet says." There was murder in William's
+heart.
+
+At that minute Ethel entered.
+
+"No," she snapped. "I sat next a man who smelt of bad tobacco. I
+_hate_ men who smoke bad tobacco."
+
+Mr. Jones assumed an expression of intense piety.
+
+"I may boast," he said sanctimoniously, "that I have never thus soiled
+my lips with drink or smoke ..."
+
+There was an approving murmur from the occupants of the drawing-room.
+
+William had met his father in the passage outside the drawing-room.
+Mr. Brown was wearing a hunted expression.
+
+"Can I go into the drawing-room?" he said bitterly, "or is he bleating
+away in there?"
+
+They listened. From the drawing-room came the sound of a high-pitched
+voice.
+
+Mr. Brown groaned.
+
+"Good Lord!" he moaned. "And I'm here for a _rest_ cure and he comes
+bleating into every room in the house. Is the smoking-room safe? Does
+he smoke?"
+
+Mr. Percival Jones was feeling slightly troubled in his usually
+peaceful conscience. He could honestly say that he had never smoked.
+He could honestly say that he had never drank. But in his bedroom
+reposed two bottles of brandy, purchased at the advice of an aunt "in
+case of emergencies." In his bedroom also was a box of cigars that he
+had bought for a cousin's birthday gift, but which his conscience had
+finally forbidden to present. He decided to consign these two emblems
+of vice to the waves that very evening.
+
+Meanwhile William had returned to the hut and was composing a tale of
+smugglers by the light of a candle. He was much intrigued by his
+subject. He wrote fast in an illegible hand in great sloping lines,
+his brows frowning, his tongue protruding from his mouth as it always
+did in moments of mental strain.
+
+His sympathies wavered between the smugglers and the representatives
+of law and order. His orthography was the despair of his teachers.
+
+_"'Ho,' sez Dick Savage,"_ he wrote. _"Ho! Gadzooks! Rol in the
+bottles of beer up the beech. Fill your pockets with the baccy from
+the bote. Quick, now! Gadzooks! Methinks we are observed!" He glared
+round in the darkness. In less time than wot it takes to rite this he
+was srounded by pleese-men and stood, proud and defiant, in the light
+of there electrick torches wot they had wiped quick as litening from
+their busums._
+
+_"'Surrender!' cried one, holding a gun at his brain and a drorn sord
+at his hart, 'Surrender or die!'_
+
+_"'Never,' said Dick Savage, throwing back his head, proud and
+defiant, 'Never. Do to me wot you will, you dirty dogs, I will never
+surrender. Soner will I die.'_
+
+_"One crule brute hit him a blo on the lips and he sprang back,
+snarling with rage. In less time than wot it takes to rite this he had
+sprang at his torturer's throte and his teeth met in one mighty bite.
+His torturer dropped ded and lifless at his feet._
+
+_"'Ho!' cried Dick Savage, throwing back his head, proud and defiant
+again, 'So dies any of you wot insults my proud manhood. I will meet
+my teeth in your throtes.'_
+
+_"For a minit they stood trembling, then one, bolder than the rest,
+lept forward and tide Dick Savage's hands with rope behind his back.
+Another took from his pockets bottles of beer and tobacco in large
+quantities._
+
+_"'Ho!' they cried exulting. 'Ho! Dick Savage the smugler caught at
+last!'_
+
+_"Dick Savage gave one proud and defiant laugh, and, bringing his tide
+hands over his hed he bit the rope with one mighty bite._
+
+_"'Ho! ho!' he cried, throwing back his proud hed, 'Ho, ho! You dirty
+dogs!'_
+
+_"Then, draining to the dregs a large bottle of poison he had
+concealed in his busum he fell ded and lifless at there feet.'"_
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+There was a timid knock at the door and William, scowling impatiently,
+rose to open it.
+
+"What d'you want?" he said curtly.
+
+A little voice answered from the dusk.
+
+"It's me--Peggy. I've come to see how you are, William. They don't
+know I've come. I was awful sick after that seaweed this morning,
+William."
+
+William looked at her with a superior frown.
+
+"Go away," he said, "I'm busy."
+
+"What you doing?" she said, poking her little curly head into the
+doorway.
+
+"I'm writin' a tale."
+
+She clasped her hands.
+
+"Oh, how lovely! Oh, William, do read it to me. I'd _love_ it!"
+
+Mollified, he opened the door and she took her seat on his buckskin on
+the floor, and William sat by the candle, clearing his throat for a
+minute before he began. During the reading she never took her eyes off
+him. At the end she drew a deep breath.
+
+"Oh, William, it's beautiful. William, are there smugglers now?"
+
+"Oh, yes. Millions," he said carelessly.
+
+"_Here_?"
+
+"Of course there are!"
+
+She went to the door and looked out at the dusk.
+
+"I'd love to see one. What do they smuggle, William?"
+
+He came and joined her at the door, walking with a slight swagger as
+became a man of literary fame.
+
+"Oh, beer an' cigars an' things. _Millions_ of them."
+
+A furtive figure was passing the door, casting suspicious glances to
+left and right. He held his coat tightly round him, clasping something
+inside it.
+
+"I expect that's one," said William casually.
+
+They watched the figure out of sight.
+
+Suddenly William's eyes shone.
+
+"Let's stalk him an' catch him," he said excitedly. "Come on. Let's
+take some weapons." He seized his pop-gun from a corner. "You take--"
+he looked round the room--"You take the wastepaper basket to put over
+his head an'--an' pin down his arms an' somethin' to tie him up!--I
+know--the skin I--he--shot in Africa. You can tie its paws in front of
+him. Come on! Let's catch him smugglin'."
+
+He stepped out boldly into the dusk with his pop-gun, followed by the
+blindly obedient Peggy carrying the wastepaper basket in one hand and
+the skin in the other.
+
+Mr. Percival Jones was making quite a little ceremony of consigning
+his brandy and cigars to the waves. He had composed "a little effort"
+upon it which began,
+
+    "O deeps, receive these objects vile,
+     Which nevermore mine eyes shall soil."
+
+He went down to the edge of the sea and, taking a bottle in each hand,
+held them out at arms' length, while he began in his high-pitched
+voice,
+
+     "O deeps, receive these----"
+
+He stopped. A small boy stood beside him, holding out at him the point
+of what in the semi-darkness Mr. Jones took to be a loaded rifle.
+William mistook his action in holding out the bottles.
+
+"It's no good tryin' to drink it up," he said severely. "We've caught
+you smugglin'."
+
+Mr. Percival Jones laughed nervously.
+
+"My little man!" he said, "that's a very dangerous--er--thing for you
+to have! Suppose you hand it over to me, now, like a good little
+chap."
+
+William recognised his voice.
+
+[Illustration: "WE'VE CAUGHT YOU SMUGGLING!" WILLIAM SAID SEVERELY.]
+
+"Fancy you bein' a smuggler all the time!" he said with righteous
+indignation in his voice.
+
+"Take away that--er--nasty gun, little boy," pleaded his captive
+plaintively.
+
+"You--ah--don't understand it. It--er--might go off."
+
+William was not a boy to indulge in half measures. He meant to carry
+the matter off with a high hand.
+
+"I'll shoot you dead," he said dramatically, "if you don't do jus'
+what I tell you."
+
+Mr. Percival Jones wiped the perspiration from his brow.
+
+"Where did you get that rifle, little boy?" he asked in a voice he
+strove to make playful. "Is it--ah--is it loaded? It's--ah--unwise,
+little boy. Most unwise. Er--give it to me to--er--take care of.
+It--er--might go off, you know."
+
+William moved the muzzle of his weapon, and Mr. Percival Jones
+shuddered from head to foot. William was a brave boy, but he had
+experienced a moment of cold terror when first he had approached his
+captive. The first note of the quavering high-pitched voice had,
+however, reassured him. He instantly knew himself to be the better
+man. His captive's obvious terror of his pop-gun almost persuaded him
+that he held in his hand some formidable death-dealing instrument. As
+a matter of fact Mr. Percival Jones was temperamentally an abject
+coward.
+
+"You walk up to the seats," commanded William. "I've took you prisoner
+for smugglin' an'--an'--jus' walk up to the seats."
+
+Mr. Percival Jones obeyed with alacrity.
+
+"Don't--er--_press_ anything, little boy," he pleaded as he went.
+"It--ah--might go off by accident. You might do--ah--untold damage."
+
+Peggy, armed with the wastepaper basket and the skin, followed
+open-mouthed.
+
+At the seat William paused.
+
+"Peggy, you put the basket over his head an' pin his arms down--case
+he struggles, an' tie the skin wot I shot round him, case he
+struggles."
+
+Peggy stood upon the seat and obeyed. Their victim made no protest. He
+seemed to himself to be in some horrible dream. The only thing of
+which he was conscious was the dimly descried weapon that William held
+out at him in the darkness. He was hardly aware of the wastepaper
+basket thrust over his head. He watched William anxiously through the
+basket-work.
+
+"Be careful," he murmured. "Be careful, boy!"
+
+He hardly felt the skin which was fastened tightly round his
+unresisting form by Peggy, the tail tied to one front paw.
+Unconsciously he still clasped a bottle of brandy in each arm.
+
+Then came the irate summons of Peggy's nurse through the dusk.
+
+"Oh, William," she said panting with excitement, "I don't want to
+leave you. Oh, William, he might _kill_ you!"
+
+"You go on. I'm all right," he said with conscious valour. "He can't
+do nothin' 'cause I've got a gun an' I can shoot him dead,"--Mr.
+Percival Jones shuddered afresh,--"an' he's all tied up an' I've took
+him prisoner an' I'm goin' to take him home."
+
+"Oh, William, you are brave!" she whispered in the darkness as she
+flitted away to her nurse.
+
+William blushed with pride and embarrassment.
+
+Mr. Percival Jones was convinced that he had to deal with a youthful
+lunatic, armed with a dangerous weapon, and was anxious only to humour
+him till the time of danger was over and he could be placed under
+proper restraint.
+
+Unconscious of his peculiar appearance, he walked before his captor,
+casting propitiatory glances behind him.
+
+"It's all right, little boy," he said soothingly, "quite all right.
+I'm--er--your friend. Don't--ah--get annoyed, little boy.
+Don't--ah--get annoyed. Won't you put your gun down, little man? Won't
+you let me carry it for you?"
+
+William walked behind, still pointing his pop-gun.
+
+"I've took you prisoner for smugglin'," he repeated doggedly. "I'm
+takin' you home. You're my prisoner. I've took you."
+
+They met no one on the road, though Mr. Percival Jones threw longing
+glances around, ready to appeal to any passer-by for rescue. He was
+afraid to raise his voice in case it should rouse his youthful captor
+to murder. He saw with joy the gate of his boarding-house and hastened
+up the walk and up the stairs. The drawing-room door was open. There
+was help and assistance, there was protection against this strange
+persecution. He entered, followed closely by William. It was about the
+time he had promised to read his "little effort" on the Coming of
+Spring to his circle of admirers. A group of elderly ladies sat round
+the fire awaiting him. Ethel was writing. They turned as he entered
+and a gasp of horror and incredulous dismay went up. It was that gasp
+that called him to a realisation of the fact that he was wearing a
+wastepaper basket over his head and shoulders, and that a mangy fur
+rug was tied round his arms.
+
+"Mr. _Jones_!" they gasped.
+
+He gave a wrench to his shoulders and the rug fell to the floor,
+revealing a bottle of brandy clasped in either arm.
+
+"Mr. _Jones_!" they repeated.
+
+"I caught him smugglin'" said William proudly. "I caught him smugglin'
+beer by the sea an' he was drinking those two bottles he'd smuggled
+an' he had thousands an' _thousands_ of cigars all over him, an' I
+caught him, an' he's a smuggler an' I brought him up here with my gun.
+He's a smuggler an' I took him prisoner."
+
+Mr. Jones, red, and angry, his hair awry, glared through the
+wickerwork of his basket. He moistened his lips. "This is an outrage,"
+he spluttered.
+
+Horrified elderly eyes stared at the incriminating bottles.
+
+"He was drinkin' 'em by the sea," said William.
+
+"Mr. _Jones_!" they chorused again.
+
+He flung off his wastepaper basket and turned upon the proprietress of
+the establishment who stood by the door.
+
+"I will not brook such treatment," he stammered in fury. "I leave your
+roof to-night. I am outraged--humiliated. I--I disdain to explain.
+I--leave your roof to-night."
+
+"Mr. _Jones_!" they said once more.
+
+[Illustration: "I CAUGHT HIM SMUGGLING," WILLIAM EXPLAINED PROUDLY.
+"HE HAD THOUSANDS AN' THOUSANDS OF CIGARS AND THAT BEER!"]
+
+Mr. Jones, still clasping his bottles, withdrew, pausing to glare at
+William on his way.
+
+"You _wicked_ boy! You wicked little, _untruthful_ boy," he said.
+
+William looked after him. "He's my prisoner an' they've let him go,"
+he said aggrievedly.
+
+Ten minutes later he wandered into the smoking room. Mr. Brown sat
+miserably in a chair by a dying fire beneath a poor light.
+
+"Is he still bleating there?" he said. "Is this still the only corner
+where I can be sure of keeping my sanity? Is he reading his beastly
+poetry upstairs? Is he----"
+
+"He's goin'," said William moodily. "He's goin' before dinner. They've
+sent for his cab. He's mad 'cause I said he was a smuggler. He was a
+smuggler 'cause I saw him doin' it, an' I took him prisoner an' he got
+mad an' he's goin'. An' they're mad at me 'cause I took him prisoner.
+You'd think they'd be glad at me catchin' smugglers, but they're not,"
+bitterly. "An' Mother says she'll tell you an' you'll be mad too
+an'----"
+
+Mr. Brown raised his hand.
+
+"One minute, my son," he said. "Your story is confused. Do I
+understand that Mr. Jones is going and that you are the cause of his
+departure?"
+
+"Yes, 'cause he got mad 'cause I said he was a smuggler an' he was a
+smuggler an' they're mad at me now, an'----"
+
+Mr. Brown laid a hand on his son's shoulder.
+
+"There are moments, William," he said, "when I feel almost
+affectionate towards you."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+THE REFORM OF WILLIAM
+
+
+To William the idea of reform was new and startling and not wholly
+unattractive. It originated with the housemaid whose brother was a
+reformed burglar now employed in a grocer's shop.
+
+"'E's got conversion," she said to William. "'E got it quite
+sudden-like, an' 'e give up all 'is bad ways straight off. 'E's bin
+like a heavenly saint ever since."
+
+William was deeply interested. The point was all innocently driven in
+later by the Sunday-school mistress. William's family had no real
+faith in the Sunday-school as a corrective to William's inherent
+wickedness, but they knew that no Sabbath peace or calm was humanly
+possible while William was in the house. So they brushed and cleaned
+and tidied him at 2.45 and sent him, pained and protesting, down the
+road every Sunday afternoon. Their only regret was that Sunday-school
+did not begin earlier and end later.
+
+Fortunately for William, most of his friends' parents were inspired by
+the same zeal, so that he met his old cronies of the week-days--Henry,
+Ginger, Douglas and all the rest--and together they beguiled the monotony
+of the Sabbath.
+
+But this Sunday the tall, pale lady who, for her sins, essayed to lead
+William and his friends along the straight and narrow path of virtue,
+was almost inspired. She was like some prophetess of old. She was so
+emphatic that the red cherries that hung coquettishly over the edge of
+her hat rattled against it as though in applause.
+
+"We must all _start afresh_," she said. "We must all be
+_turned_--that's what _conversion_ means."
+
+William's fascinated eye wandered from the cherries to the distant
+view out of the window. He thought suddenly of the noble burglar who
+had turned his back upon the mysterious, nefarious tools of his trade
+and now dispensed margarine to his former victims.
+
+Opposite him sat a small girl in a pink and white checked frock. He
+often whiled away the dullest hours of Sunday-school by putting out
+his tongue at her or throwing paper pellets at her (manufactured
+previously for the purpose). But to-day, meeting her serious eye, he
+looked away hastily.
+
+"And we must all _help someone_," went on the urgent voice. "If we
+have _turned_ ourselves, we must help someone else to _turn_...."
+
+Determined and eager was the eye that the small girl turned upon
+William, and William realised that his time had come. He was to be
+converted. He felt almost thrilled by the prospect. He was so
+enthralled that he received absent-mindedly, and without gratitude,
+the mountainous bull's-eye passed to him from Ginger, and only gave a
+half-hearted smile when a well-aimed pellet from Henry's hand sent one
+of the prophetess's cherries swinging high in the air.
+
+After the class the pink-checked girl (whose name most appropriately
+was Deborah) stalked William for several yards and finally cornered
+him.
+
+"William," she said, "are you going to _turn_?"
+
+"I'm goin' to think about it," said William guardedly.
+
+"William, I think you ought to turn. I'll help you," she added
+sweetly.
+
+William drew a deep breath. "All right, I will," he said.
+
+She heaved a sigh of relief.
+
+"You'll begin _now_, won't you?" she said earnestly.
+
+William considered. There were several things that he had wanted to do
+for some time, but hadn't managed to do yet. He had not tried turning
+off the water at the main, and hiding the key and seeing what would
+happen; he hadn't tried shutting up the cat in the hen-house; he
+hadn't tried painting his long-suffering mongrel Jumble with the pot
+of green paint that was in the tool shed; he hadn't tried pouring
+water into the receiver of the telephone; he hadn't tried locking the
+cook into the larder. There were, in short, whole fields of crime
+entirely unexplored. All these things--and others--must be done
+before the reformation.
+
+"I can't begin _jus'_ yet," said William. "Say day after to-morrow."
+
+She considered this for a minute.
+
+"Very well," she said at last reluctantly, "day after to-morrow."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The next day dawned bright and fair. William arose with a distinct
+sense that something important had happened. Then he thought of the
+reformation. He saw himself leading a quiet and blameless life,
+walking sedately to school, working at high pressure in school, doing
+his homework conscientiously in the evening, being exquisitely polite
+to his family, his instructors, and the various foolish people who
+visited his home for the sole purpose (apparently) of making inane
+remarks to him. He saw all this, and the picture was far from
+unattractive--in the distance. In the immediate future, however, there
+were various quite important things to be done. There was a whole
+normal lifetime of crime to be crowded into one day. Looking out of
+his window he espied the gardener bending over one of the beds. The
+gardener had a perfectly bald head. William had sometimes idly
+imagined the impact of a pea sent violently from a pea-shooter with
+the gardener's bald head. Before there had been a lifetime of
+experiment before him, and he had put off this one idly in favour of
+something more pressing. Now there was only one day. He took up his
+pea-shooter and aimed carefully. The pea did not embed itself deeply
+into the gardener's skull as William had sometimes thought it would.
+It bounced back. It bounced back quite hard. The gardener also bounced
+back with a yell of anger, shaking his fist at William's window. But
+William had discreetly retired. He hid the pea-shooter, assumed his
+famous expression of innocence, and felt distinctly cheered. The
+question as to what exactly would happen when the pea met the baldness
+was now for ever solved. The gardener retired grumbling to the potting
+shed, so, for the present, all was well. Later in the day the gardener
+might lay his formal complaint before authority, but later in the day
+was later in the day. It did not trouble William. He dressed briskly
+and went down to breakfast with a frown of concentration upon his
+face. It was the last day of his old life.
+
+[Illustration: THE PEA DID NOT EMBED ITSELF INTO THE GARDENER'S SKULL
+AS WILLIAM HAD SOMETIMES THOUGHT IT WOULD. IT BOUNCED BACK. THE
+GARDENER ALSO BOUNCED BACK.]
+
+No one else was in the dining-room. It was the work of a few minutes
+to remove the bacon from beneath the big pewter cover and substitute
+the kitten, to put a tablespoonful of salt into the coffee, and to put
+a two-days'-old paper in place of that morning's. They were all things
+that he had at one time or another vaguely thought of doing, but for
+which he had never yet seemed to have time or opportunity. Warming to
+his subject he removed the egg from under the egg cosy on his sister's
+plate and placed in its stead a worm which had just appeared in the
+window-box in readiness for the early bird.
+
+He surveyed the scene with a deep sigh of satisfaction. The only
+drawback was that he felt that he could not safely stay to watch
+results. William possessed a true strategic instinct for the right
+moment for a retreat. Hearing, therefore, a heavy step on the stairs,
+he seized several pieces of toast and fled. As he fled he heard
+through the open window violent sounds proceeding from the enraged
+kitten beneath the cover, and then the still more violent sounds
+proceeding from the unknown person who removed the cover. The kitten,
+a mass of fury and lust for revenge, came flying through the window.
+William hid behind a laurel bush till it had passed, then set off down
+the road.
+
+School, of course, was impossible. The precious hours of such a day as
+this could not be wasted in school. He went down the road full of his
+noble purpose. The wickedness of a lifetime was somehow or other to be
+crowded into this day. To-morrow it would all be impossible. To-morrow
+began the blameless life. It must all be worked off to-day. He skirted
+the school by a field path in case any of those narrow souls paid to
+employ so aimlessly the precious hours of his youth might be there.
+They would certainly be tactless enough to question him as he passed
+the door. Then he joined the main road.
+
+The main road was empty except for a caravan--a caravan gaily painted
+in red and yellow. It had little lace curtains at the window. It was
+altogether a most fascinating caravan. No one seemed to be near it.
+William looked through the windows. There was a kind of dresser with
+crockery hanging from it, a small table and a little oil stove. The
+further part was curtained off but no sound came from it, so that it
+was presumably empty too. William wandered round to inspect the
+quadruped in front. It appeared to be a mule--a mule with a jaundiced
+view of life. It rolled a sad eye towards William, then with a deep
+sigh returned to its contemplation of the landscape. William gazed
+upon caravan and steed fascinated. Never, in his future life of noble
+merit, would he be able to annex a caravan. It was his last chance. No
+one was about. He could pretend that he had mistaken it for his own
+caravan or had got on to it by mistake or--or anything. Conscience
+stirred faintly in his breast, but he silenced it sternly. Conscience
+was to rule him for the rest of his life and it could jolly well let
+him alone _this_ day. With some difficulty he climbed on to the
+driver's seat, took the reins, said "Gee-up" to the melancholy mule,
+and the whole equipage with a jolt and faint rattle set out along the
+road.
+
+William did not know how to drive, but it did not seem to matter. The
+mule ambled along and William, high up on the driver's seat, the reins
+held with ostentatious carelessness in one hand, the whip poised
+lightly in the other was in the seventh heaven of bliss. He was
+driving a caravan. He was driving a caravan. He was driving a caravan.
+The very telegraph posts seemed to gape with envy and admiration as
+he passed. What ultimately he was going to do with his caravan he
+neither knew nor cared. All that mattered was, it was a bright sunny
+morning, and all the others were in school, and he was driving a red
+and yellow caravan along the high road. The birds seemed to be singing
+a p�on of praise to him. He was intoxicated with pride. It was _his_
+caravan, _his_ road, _his_ world. Carelessly he flicked the mule with
+the whip. There are several explanations of what happened then. The
+mule may not have been used to the whip; a wasp may have just stung
+him at that particular minute; a wandering demon may have entered into
+him. Mules are notoriously accessible to wandering demons. Whatever
+the explanation, the mule suddenly started forward and galloped at
+full speed down the hill. The reins dropped from William's hands; he
+clung for dear life on to his seat, as the caravan, swaying and
+jolting along the uneven road, seemed to be doing its utmost to fling
+him off. There came a rattle of crockery from within. Then suddenly
+there came another sound from within--a loud, agonised scream. It was
+a female scream. Someone who had been asleep behind the curtain had
+just awakened.
+
+William's hair stood on end. He almost forgot to cling to the seat.
+For not one scream came but many. They rent the still summer air,
+mingled with the sound of breaking glass and crockery. The mule
+continued his mad career down the hill, his reins trailing in the
+dust. In the distance was a little gipsy's donkey cart full of pots
+and pans. William found his voice suddenly and began to warn the mule.
+
+[Illustration: WILLIAM'S HAIR STOOD ON END. HE ALMOST FORGOT TO CLING
+TO THE SEAT. FOR NOT ONE SCREAM CAME BUT MANY, MINGLED WITH THE SOUND
+OF BREAKING GLASS AND CROCKERY.]
+
+"Look out, you ole softie!" he yelled. "Look out for the donk, you ole
+ass."
+
+But the mule refused to be warned. He neatly escaped the donkey cart
+himself, but he crashed the caravan into it with such force that the
+caravan broke a shaft and overturned completely on to the donkey
+cart, scattering pots and pans far and wide. From within the caravan
+came inhuman female yells of fear and anger. William had fallen on to
+a soft bank of grass. He was discovering, to his amazement, that he
+was still alive and practically unhurt. The mule was standing meekly
+by and smiling to himself. Then out of the window of the caravan
+climbed a woman--a fat, angry woman, shaking her fist at the world in
+general. Her hair and face were covered with sugar and a fork was
+embedded in the front of her dress. Otherwise she, too, had escaped
+undamaged.
+
+The owner of the donkey cart arose from the _m�l�e_ of pots and pans
+and turned upon her fiercely. She screamed at him furiously in reply.
+Then along the road could be seen the figure of a fat man carrying a
+fishing rod. He began to run wildly towards the caravan.
+
+"_Ach! Gott in Himmel_!" he cried as he ran, "my beautiful caravan!
+Who has this to it done?"
+
+He joined the frenzied altercation that was going on between the
+donkey man and the fat woman. The air was rent by their angry shouts.
+A group of highly appreciative villagers collected round them. Then
+one of them pointed to William, who sat, feeling still slightly
+shaken, upon the bank.
+
+"It was 'im wot done it," he said, "it was 'im that was a-drivin' of
+it down the 'ill."
+
+With one wild glance at the scene of devastation and anger, William
+turned and fled through the wood.
+
+"_Ach! Gott in Himmel!_" screamed the fat man, beginning to pursue
+him. The fat woman and the donkey man joined the pursuit. To William
+it was like some ghastly nightmare after an evening's entertainment at
+the cinematograph.
+
+Meanwhile the donkey and the mule fraternised over the _d�bris_ and
+the villagers helped themselves to all they could find. But the fat
+man was very fat, and the fat woman was very fat, and the donkey man
+was very old, and William was young and very fleet, so in less than
+ten minutes they gave up the pursuit and returned panting and
+quarrelling to the road. William sat on the further outskirts of the
+wood and panted. He felt on the whole exhilarated by the adventure. It
+was quite a suitable adventure for his last day of unregeneration. But
+he felt also in need of bodily sustenance, so he purchased a bun and a
+bottle of lemonade at a neighbouring shop and sat by the roadside to
+recover. There were no signs of his pursuers.
+
+He felt reluctant to return home. It is always well to follow a
+morning's absence from school by an afternoon's absence from school. A
+return in the afternoon is ignominious and humiliating. William
+wandered round the neighbourhood experiencing all the thrill of the
+outlaw. Certainly by this time the gardener would have complained to
+his father, probably the schoolmistress would have sent a note.
+Also--someone had been scratched by the cat.
+
+William decided that all things considered it was best to make a day
+of it.
+
+[Illustration: WILLIAM'S SPIRITS SANK A LITTLE AS HE APPROACHED THE
+GATE. HE COULD SEE THROUGH THE TREES THE FAT CARAVAN-OWNER
+GESTICULATING AT THE DOOR.]
+
+He spent part of the afternoon in throwing stones at a scarecrow. His
+aim was fairly good, and he succeeded in knocking off the hat and
+finally prostrating the wooden framework. Followed--an exciting chase
+by an angry farmer.
+
+It was after tea-time when he returned home, walking with careless
+bravado as of a criminal who has drunk of crime to its very depth and
+flaunts it before the world. His spirits sank a little as he
+approached the gate. He could see through the trees the fat
+caravan-owner gesticulating at the door. Helped by the villagers, he
+had tracked William. Phrases floated to him through the summer air.
+
+"Mine beautiful caravan.... _Ach.... Gott in Himmel_!"
+
+He could see the gardener smiling in the distance. There was a small
+blue bruise on his shining head. William judged from the smile that he
+had laid his formal complaint before authority. William noticed that
+his father looked pale and harassed. He noticed, also, with a thrill
+of horror, that his hand was bound up, and that there was a long
+scratch down his cheek. He knew the cat had scratched _somebody_,
+but ... Crumbs!
+
+A small boy came down the road and saw William hesitating at the open
+gateway.
+
+"_You'll_ catch it!" he said cheerfully. "They've wrote to say you
+wasn't in school."
+
+William crept round to the back of the house beneath the bushes. He
+felt that the time had come to give himself up to justice, but he
+wanted, as the popular saying is, to be sure of "getting his money's
+worth." There was the tin half full of green paint in the tool shed.
+He'd had his eye on it for some time. He went quietly round to the
+tool shed. Soon he was contemplating with a satisfied smile a green
+and enraged cat and a green and enraged hen. Then, bracing himself for
+the effort, he delivered himself up to justice. When all was said and
+done no punishment could be really adequate to a day like that.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Dusk was falling. William gazed pensively from his bedroom window. He
+was reviewing his day. He had almost forgotten the stormy and
+decidedly unpleasant scene with his father. Mr. Brown's rhetoric had
+been rather lost on William, because its pearls of sarcasm had been so
+far above his head. And William had not been really loth to retire at
+once to bed. After all, it had been a very tiring day.
+
+Now his thoughts were going over some of its most exquisite
+moments--the moments when the pea and the gardener's head met and
+rebounded with such satisfactory force; the moment when he swung along
+the high road, monarch of a caravan and a mule and the whole wide
+world; the moment when the scarecrow hunched up and collapsed so
+realistically; the cat covered with green paint.... After all it was
+his last day. He saw himself from to-morrow onward leading a quiet and
+blameless life, walking sedately to school, working at high pressure
+in school, doing his homework conscientiously in the evening, being
+exquisitely polite to his family and instructors--and the vision
+failed utterly to attract. Moreover, he hadn't yet tried turning off
+the water at the main, or locking the cook into the larder, or--or
+hundreds of things.
+
+There came a gentle voice from the garden.
+
+"William, where are you?"
+
+William looked down and met the earnest gaze of Deborah.
+
+"Hello," he said.
+
+"William," she said. "You won't forget that you're going to start
+to-morrow, will you?"
+
+William looked at her firmly.
+
+"I can't jus' to-morrow," he said. "I'm puttin' it off. I'm puttin' it
+off for a year or two."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+WILLIAM AND THE ANCIENT SOULS
+
+
+The house next William's had been unoccupied for several months, and
+William made full use of its garden. Its garden was in turns a jungle,
+a desert, an ocean, and an enchanted island. William invited select
+parties of his friends to it. He had come to look upon it as his own
+property. He hunted wild animals in it with Jumble, his trusty hound;
+he tracked Red Indians in it, again with Jumble, his trusty hound; and
+he attacked and sank ships in it, making his victims walk the plank,
+again with the help and assistance of Jumble, his trusty hound.
+Sometimes, to vary the monotony, he made Jumble, his trusty hound,
+walk the plank into the rain tub. This was one of the many unpleasant
+things that William brought into Jumble's life. It was only his
+intense love for William that reconciled him to his existence. Jumble
+was one of the very few beings who appreciated William.
+
+The house on the other side was a much smaller one, and was occupied
+by Mr. Gregorius Lambkin. Mr. Gregorius Lambkin was a very shy and
+rather elderly bachelor. He issued from his front door every morning
+at half-past eight holding a neat little attach� case in a
+neatly-gloved hand. He spent the day in an insurance office and
+returned, still unruffled and immaculate, at about half past six. Most
+people considered him quite dull and negligible, but he possessed the
+supreme virtue in William's eyes of not objecting to William. William
+had suffered much from unsympathetic neighbours who had taken upon
+themselves to object to such innocent and artistic objects as
+catapults and pea-shooters, and cricket balls. William had a very soft
+spot in his heart for Mr. Gregorius Lambkin. William spent a good deal
+of his time in Mr. Lambkin's garden during his absence, and Mr.
+Lambkin seemed to have no objection. Other people's gardens always
+seemed to William to be more attractive than his own--especially when
+he had no right of entry into them.
+
+There was quite an excitement in the neighbourhood when the empty
+house was let. It was rumoured that the newcomer was a Personage. She
+was the President of the Society of Ancient Souls. The Society of
+Ancient Souls was a society of people who remembered their previous
+existence. The memory usually came in a flash. For instance, you might
+remember in a flash when you were looking at a box of matches that you
+had been Guy Fawkes. Or you might look at a cow and remember in a
+flash that you had been Nebuchadnezzar. Then you joined the Society of
+Ancient Souls, and paid a large subscription, and attended meetings
+at the house of its President in costume. And the President was coming
+to live next door to William. By a curious coincidence her name was
+Gregoria--Miss Gregoria Mush. William awaited her coming with anxiety.
+He had discovered that one's next-door neighbours make a great
+difference to one's life. They may be agreeable and not object to
+mouth organs and whistling and occasional stone-throwing, or they may
+not. They sometimes--the worst kind--go to the length of writing notes
+to one's father about one, and then, of course, the only course left
+to one is one of Revenge. But William hoped great things from Miss
+Gregoria Mush. There was a friendly sound about the name. On the
+evening of her arrival he climbed up on the roller and gazed wistfully
+over the fence at the territory that had once been his, but from which
+he was now debarred. He felt like Moses surveying the Promised Land.
+
+Miss Gregoria Mush was walking in the garden. William watched her with
+bated breath. She was very long, and very thin, and very angular, and
+she was reading poetry out loud to herself as she trailed about in her
+long draperies.
+
+"'Oh, moon of my delight....'" she declaimed, then her eye met
+William's. The eyes beneath her pince-nez were like little gimlets.
+
+"How dare you stare at me, you rude boy?" she said.
+
+William gasped.
+
+[Illustration: "HOW DARE YOU STARE AT ME, YOU RUDE BOY?" SHE SAID.]
+
+"I shall write to your father," she said fiercely, and then proceeded
+still ferociously, "'... that knows no wane.'"
+
+"Crumbs!" murmured William, descending slowly from his perch.
+
+She did write to his father, and that note was the first of many. She
+objected to his singing, she objected to his shouting, she objected to
+his watching her over the wall, and she objected to his throwing
+sticks at her cat. She objected both verbally and in writing. This
+persecution was only partly compensated for by occasional glimpses of
+meetings of the Ancient Souls. For the Ancient Souls met in costume,
+and sometimes William could squeeze through the hole in the fence and
+watch the Ancient Souls meeting in the dining-room. Miss Gregoria Mush
+arrayed as Mary, Queen of Scots (one of her many previous existences)
+was worth watching. And always there was the garden on the other side.
+Mr. Gregorius Lambkin made no objections and wrote no notes. But
+clouds of Fate were gathering round Mr. Gregorius Lambkin. William
+first heard of it one day at lunch.
+
+"I saw the old luny talking to poor little Lambkin to-day," said
+Robert, William's elder brother.
+
+In these terms did Robert refer to the august President of the Society
+of Ancient Souls.
+
+And the next news Robert brought home was that "poor little Lambkin"
+had joined the Society of Ancient Souls, but didn't seem to want to
+talk about it. He seemed very vague as to his previous existence, but
+he said that Miss Gregoria Mush was sure that he had been Julius
+C�sar. The knowledge had come to her in a flash when he raised his hat
+and she saw his bald head.
+
+There was a meeting of the Ancient Souls that evening, and William
+crept through the hole and up to the dining-room window to watch. A
+gorgeous scene met his eye. Noah conversed agreeably with Cleopatra in
+the window seat, and by the piano Napoleon discussed the Irish
+question with Lobengula. As William watched, his small nose flattened
+against a corner of the window, Nero and Dante arrived, having shared
+a taxi from the station. Miss Gregoria Mush, tall and gaunt and
+angular, presided in the robes of Mary, Queen of Scots, which was her
+favourite previous existence. Then Mr. Gregorius Lambkin arrived. He
+looked as unhappy as it is possible for man to look. He was dressed in
+a toga and a laurel wreath. Heat and nervousness had caused his small
+waxed moustache to droop. His toga was too long and his laurel wreath
+was crooked. Miss Gregoria Mush received him effusively. She carried
+him off to a corner seat near the window, and there they conversed,
+or, to be more accurate, she talked and he listened. The window was
+open and William could hear some of the things she said.
+
+"Now you are a member you must come here often ... you and I, the only
+Ancient Souls in this vicinity ... we will work together and live only
+in the Past.... Have you remembered any other previous existence?...
+No? Ah, try, it will come in a flash any time.... I must come and see
+your garden.... I feel that we have much in common, you and I.... We
+have much to talk about.... I have all my past life to tell you of ...
+what train do you come home by?... We must be friends--real
+friends.... I'm sure I can help you much in your life as an Ancient
+Soul.... Our names are almost the same.... Fate in some way unites
+us...."
+
+And Mr. Lambkin sat, miserable and dejected and yet with a certain
+pathetic resignation. For what can one do against Fate? Then the
+President caught sight of William and approached the window.
+
+[Illustration: MR. LAMBKIN SAT, MISERABLE AND DEJECTED, AND YET WITH A
+CERTAIN PATHETIC RESIGNATION.]
+
+"Go away, boy!" she called. "You wicked, rude, prying boy, go away!"
+
+Mr. Lambkin shot a wretched and apologetic glance at William, but
+William pressed his mouth to the open slit of the window.
+
+"All right, Mrs. Jarley's!" he called, then turned and fled.
+
+William met Mr. Lambkin on his way to the station the next morning.
+Mr. Lambkin looked thinner and there were lines of worry on his face.
+
+"I'm sorry she sent you away, William," he said. "It must have been
+interesting to watch--most interesting to watch. I'd much rather have
+watched than--but there, it's very kind of her to take such an
+interest in me. _Most_ kind. But I--however, she's very kind, _very_
+kind. She very kindly presented me with the costume. Hardly
+suitable, perhaps, but _very_ kind of her. And, of course, there _may_
+be something in it. One never knows. I _may_ have been Julius C�sar,
+but I hardly think--however, one must keep an open mind. Do you know
+any Latin, William?"
+
+"Jus' a bit," said William, guardedly. "I've _learnt_ a lot, but I
+don't _know_ much."
+
+"Say some to me. It might convey something to me. One never knows. She
+seems so sure. Talk Latin to me, William."
+
+"Hic, haec, hoc," said William obligingly.
+
+Julius C�sar's reincarnation shook his head.
+
+"No," he said, "I'm afraid it doesn't seem to mean anything to me."
+
+"Hunc, hanc, hoc," went on William monotonously.
+
+"I'm afraid it's no good," said Mr. Lambkin. "I'm afraid it proves
+that I'm not--still one may not retain a knowledge of one's former
+tongue. One must keep an open mind. Of course, I'd prefer not to--but
+one must be fair. And she's kind, very kind."
+
+Shaking his head sadly, the little man entered the station.
+
+That evening William heard his father say to his mother:
+
+"She came down to meet him at the station to-night. I'm afraid his
+doom is sealed. He's no power of resistance, and she's got her eye on
+him."
+
+"Who's got her eye on him?" said William with interest.
+
+"Be quiet!" said his father with the brusqueness of the male parent.
+
+But William began to see how things stood. And William liked Mr.
+Lambkin.
+
+One evening he saw from his window Mr. Gregorius Lambkin walking with
+Miss Gregoria Mush in Miss Gregoria Mush's garden. Mr. Gregorius
+Lambkin did not look happy.
+
+William crept down to the hole in the fence and applied his ear to it.
+
+They were sitting on a seat quite close to his hole.
+
+"Gregorius," the President of the Society of Ancient Souls was saying,
+"when I found that our names were the same I knew that our destinies
+were interwoven."
+
+"Yes," murmured Mr. Lambkin. "It's so kind of you, so kind. But--I'm
+afraid I'm overstaying my welcome. I must----"
+
+"No. I must say what is in my heart, Gregorius. You live on the Past,
+I live in the Past. We have a common mission--the mission of bringing
+to the thoughtless and uninitiated the memory of their former lives.
+Gregorius, our work would be more valuable if we could do it together,
+if the common destiny that has united our nomenclatures could unite
+also our lives."
+
+"It's so _kind_ of you," murmured the writhing victim, "so kind. I am
+so unfit, I----"
+
+"No, friend," she said kindly. "I have power enough for both. The
+human speech is so poor an agent, is it not?"
+
+A door bell clanged in the house.
+
+"Ah, the Committee of the Ancient Souls. They were coming from town
+to-night. Come here to-morrow night at the same time, Gregorius, and I
+will tell you what is in my heart. Meet me here--at this
+time--to-morrow evening."
+
+William here caught sight of a stray cat at the other end of the
+garden. In the character of a cannibal chief he hunted the white man
+(otherwise the cat) with blood-curdling war-whoops, but felt no real
+interest in the chase. He bound up his scratches mechanically with an
+ink-stained handkerchief. Then he went indoors. Robert was conversing
+with his friend in the library.
+
+"Well," said the friend, "it's nearly next month. Has she landed him
+yet?"
+
+"By Jove!" said Robert. "First of April to-morrow!" He looked at
+William suspiciously. "And if you try any fool's tricks on me you'll
+jolly well hear about it."
+
+"I'm not thinkin' of you," said William crushingly. "I'm not goin' to
+trouble with _you_!"
+
+"Has she landed him?" said the friend.
+
+"Not yet, and I heard him saying in the train that he was leaving town
+on the 2nd and going abroad for a holiday."
+
+"Well, she'll probably do it yet. She's got all the 1st."
+
+"It's bedtime, William," called his Mother.
+
+"Thank heaven!" said Robert.
+
+William sat gazing into the distance, not seeing or hearing.
+
+"_William_!" called his mother.
+
+"All right," said William irritably. "I'm jus' thinkin' something
+out."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+William's family went about their ways cautiously the next morning.
+They watched William carefully. Robert even refused an egg at
+breakfast because you never knew with that little wretch. But nothing
+happened.
+
+"Fancy your going on April Fool's day without making a fool of
+anyone," said Robert at lunch.
+
+"It's not over, is it?--not yet," said William with the air of a
+sphinx.
+
+"But it doesn't count after twelve," said Robert.
+
+William considered deeply before he spoke, then he said slowly:
+
+"The thing what I'm going to do counts whatever time it is."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Reluctantly, but as if drawn by a magnet, Mr. Lambkin set off to the
+President's house. William was in the road.
+
+"She told me to tell you," said William unblushingly, "that she was
+busy to-night, an' would you mind not coming."
+
+The tense lines of Mr. Lambkin's face relaxed.
+
+"Oh, William," he said, "it's a great relief. I'm going away early
+to-morrow, but I was afraid that to-night----" he was almost
+hysterical with relief. "She's so kind, but I was afraid that--well,
+well, I can't say I'm sorry--I'd promised to come, and I couldn't
+break it. But I was afraid--and I hear she's sold her house and is
+leaving in a month, so--but she's kind--_very_ kind."
+
+He turned back with alacrity.
+
+"Thanks for letting me have the clothes," said William.
+
+"Oh, quite welcome, William. They're nice things for a boy to dress up
+in, no doubt. I can't say I--but she's _very_ kind. Don't let her see
+you playing with them, William."
+
+William grunted and returned to his back garden.
+
+[Illustration: "GREGORIUS," SAID THE PRESIDENT. "HOW DEAR OF YOU TO
+COME IN COSTUME!" THE FIGURE MADE NO MOVEMENT.]
+
+For some time silence reigned over the three back gardens. Then Miss
+Gregoria Mush emerged and came towards the seat by the fence. A figure
+was already seated there in the half dusk, a figure swathed in a toga
+with the toga drawn also over its drooping head.
+
+"Gregorius!" said the President. "How dear of you to come in costume!"
+
+The figure made no movement.
+
+"You know what I have in my heart, Gregorius?"
+
+Still no answer.
+
+"Your heart is too full for words," she said kindly. "The thought of
+having your destiny linked with mine takes speech from you. But have
+courage, dear Gregorius. You shall work for me. We will do great
+things together. We will be married at the little church."
+
+Still no answer.
+
+"Gregorius!" she murmured tenderly:
+
+She leant against him suddenly, and he yielded beneath the pressure
+with a sudden sound of dissolution. Two cushions slid to the ground,
+the toga fell back, revealing a broomstick with a turnip fixed firmly
+to the top. It bore the legend:
+
+[Illustration: APRIL FOOL]
+
+And from the other side of the fence came a deep sigh of satisfaction
+from the artist behind the scenes.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+WILLIAM'S CHRISTMAS EVE
+
+
+It was Christmas. The air was full of excitement and secrecy. William,
+whose old-time faith in notes to Father Christmas sent up the chimney
+had died a natural death as the result of bitter experience, had
+thoughtfully presented each of his friends and relations with a list
+of his immediate requirements.
+
+     Things I want for Crismus
+     1.  A Bicycle.
+     2.  A grammerfone.
+     3.  A pony.
+     4.  A snake.
+     5.  A monkey.
+     6.  A Bugal
+     7.  A trumpit
+     8.  A red Injun uniform
+     9.  A lot of sweets.
+     10. A lot of books.
+
+He had a vague and not unfounded misgiving that his family would begin
+at the bottom of the list instead of the top. He was not surprised,
+therefore, when he saw his father come home rather later than usual
+carrying a parcel of books under his arm. A few days afterwards he
+announced casually at breakfast:
+
+"Well, I only hope no one gives me 'The Great Chief,' or 'The Pirate
+Ship,' or 'The Land of Danger' for Christmas."
+
+His father started.
+
+"Why?" he said sharply.
+
+"Jus' 'cause I've read them, that's all," explained William with a
+bland look of innocence.
+
+The glance that Mr. Brown threw at his offspring was not altogether
+devoid of suspicion, but he said nothing. He set off after breakfast
+with the same parcel of books under his arm and returned with another.
+This time, however, he did not put them in the library cupboard, and
+William searched in vain.
+
+The question of Christmas festivities loomed large upon the social
+horizon.
+
+"Robert and Ethel can have their party on the day before Christmas
+Eve," decided Mrs. Brown, "and then William can have his on Christmas
+Eve."
+
+William surveyed his elder brother and sister gloomily.
+
+"Yes, an' us eat up jus' what they've left," he said with bitterness.
+"_I_ know!"
+
+Mrs. Brown changed the subject hastily.
+
+"Now let's see whom we'll have for your party, William," she said,
+taking out pencil and paper. "You say whom you'd like and I'll make a
+list."
+
+"Ginger an' Douglas an' Henry and Joan," said William promptly.
+
+"Yes? Who else?"
+
+"I'd like the milkman."
+
+"You can't have the milkman, William. Don't be so foolish."
+
+"Well, I'd like to have Fisty Green. He can whistle with his fingers
+in his mouth."
+
+"He's a butcher's boy, William! You _can't_ have him?"
+
+"Well, who _can_ I have?"
+
+"Johnnie Brent?"
+
+"I don't like him."
+
+"But you must invite him. He asked you to his."
+
+"Well, I didn't want to go," irritably, "you made me."
+
+"But if he asks you to his you must ask him back."
+
+"You don't want me to invite folks I don't _want_?" William said in
+the voice of one goaded against his will into exasperation.
+
+"You must invite people who invite you," said Mrs. Brown firmly,
+"that's what we always do in parties."
+
+"Then they've got to invite you again and it goes on and on and _on_,"
+argued William. "Where's the _sense_ of it? I don't like Johnnie Brent
+an' he don't like me, an' if we go on inviting each other an' our
+mothers go on making us go, it'll go on and on and _on_. Where's the
+_sense_ of it? I only jus' want to know where's the _sense_ of it?"
+
+His logic was unanswerable.
+
+"Well, anyway, William, I'll draw up the list. You can go and play."
+
+William walked away, frowning, with his hands in his pockets.
+
+"Where's the _sense_ of it?" he muttered as he went.
+
+He began to wend his way towards the spot where he, and Douglas, and
+Ginger, and Henry met daily in order to wile away the hours of the
+Christmas holidays. At present they lived and moved and had their
+being in the characters of Indian Chiefs.
+
+As William walked down the back street, which led by a short cut to
+their meeting-place, he unconsciously assumed an arrogant strut,
+suggestive of some warrior prince surrounded by his gallant braves.
+
+"Garn! _Swank_!"
+
+He turned with a dark scowl.
+
+On a doorstep sat a little girl, gazing up at him with blue eyes
+beneath a tousled mop of auburn hair.
+
+William's eye travelled sternly from her Titian curls to her bare
+feet. He assumed a threatening attitude and scowled fiercely.
+
+"You better not say _that_ again," he said darkly.
+
+"Why not?" she said with a jeering laugh.
+
+"Well, you'd just better _not_," he said with a still more ferocious
+scowl.
+
+"What'd you do?" she persisted.
+
+He considered for a moment in silence. Then: "You'd see what I'd do!"
+he said ominously.
+
+"Garn! _Swank_!" she repeated. "Now do it! Go on, do it!"
+
+"I'll--let you off _this_ time," he said judicially.
+
+"Garn! _Softie_. You can't do anything, you can't! You're a softie!"
+
+"I could cut your head off an' scalp you an' leave you hanging on a
+tree, I could," he said fiercely, "an' I will, too, if you go on
+calling me names."
+
+"_Softie! Swank!_ Now cut it off! Go on!"
+
+He looked down at her mocking blue eyes.
+
+"You're jolly lucky I don't start on you," he said threateningly.
+"Folks I do start on soon get sorry, I can tell you."
+
+[Illustration: "GARN! SWANK!" WILLIAM TURNED WITH A DARK SCOWL.]
+
+"What you do to them?"
+
+He changed the subject abruptly.
+
+"What's your name?" he said.
+
+"Sheila. What's yours?"
+
+"Red Hand--I mean, William."
+
+"I'll tell you sumpthin' if you'll come an' sit down by me."
+
+"What'll you tell me?"
+
+"Sumpthin' I bet you don't know."
+
+"I bet I _do_."
+
+"Well, come here an' I'll tell you."
+
+He advanced towards her suspiciously. Through the open door he could
+see a bed in a corner of the dark, dirty room and a woman's white face
+upon the pillow.
+
+"Oh, come _on_!" said the little girl impatiently.
+
+He came on and sat down beside her.
+
+"Well?" he said condescendingly, "I bet I knew all the time."
+
+"No, you didn't! D'you know," she sank her voice to a confidential
+whisper, "there's a chap called Father Christmas wot comes down
+chimneys Christmas Eve and leaves presents in people's houses?"
+
+He gave a scornful laugh.
+
+"Oh, that _rot_! You don't believe _that_ rot, do you?"
+
+"Rot?" she repeated indignantly. "Why, it's _true_--_true_ as _true_!
+A boy told me wot had hanged his stocking up by the chimney an' in the
+morning it was full of things an' they was jus' the things wot he'd
+wrote on a bit of paper an' thrown up the chimney to this 'ere
+Christmas chap."
+
+"Only _kids_ believe that rot," persisted William. "I left off
+believin' it years and _years_ ago!"
+
+Her face grew pink with the effort of convincing him.
+
+"But the boy _told_ me, the boy wot got things from this 'ere chap wot
+comes down chimneys. An' I've wrote wot I want an' sent it up the
+chimney. Don't you think I'll get it?"
+
+William looked down at her. Her blue eyes, big with apprehension, were
+fixed on him, her little rosy lips were parted. William's heart
+softened.
+
+"I dunno," he said doubtfully. "You might, I s'pose. What d'you want
+for Christmas?"
+
+"You won't tell if I tell you?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Not to no one?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Say, 'Cross me throat.'"
+
+William complied with much interest and stored up the phrase for
+future use.
+
+"Well," she sank her voice very low and spoke into his ear.
+
+"Dad's comin' out Christmas Eve!"
+
+She leant back and watched him, anxious to see the effect of this
+stupendous piece of news. Her face expressed pride and delight,
+William's merely bewilderment.
+
+"Comin' out?" he repeated. "Comin' out of where?"
+
+Her expression changed to one of scorn.
+
+"_Prison_, of course! _Silly_!"
+
+William was half offended, half thrilled.
+
+"Well, I couldn't _know_ it was prison, could I? How could I _know_ it
+was prison without bein' told? It might of been out of anything.
+What--" in hushed curiosity and awe--"what was he in prison for?"
+
+"Stealin'."
+
+Her pride was unmistakable. William looked at her in disapproval.
+
+"Stealin's wicked," he said virtuously.
+
+"Huh!" she jeered, "you _can't_ steal! You're too soft! _Softie_! You
+_can't_ steal without bein' copped fust go, you can't."
+
+"I _could_!" he said indignantly. "And, any way, he got copped di'n't
+he? or he'd not of been in prison, _so there_!"
+
+"He di'n't get copped fust go. It was jus' a sorter mistake, he said.
+He said it wun't happen again. He's a jolly good stealer. The cops
+said he was and _they_ oughter know."
+
+"Well," said William changing the conversation, "what d'you want for
+Christmas?"
+
+"I wrote it on a bit of paper an' sent it up the chimney," she said
+confidingly. "I said I di'n't want no toys nor sweeties nor nuffin'. I
+said I only wanted a nice supper for Dad when he comes out Christmas
+Eve. We ain't got much money, me an' Mother, an' we carn't get 'im
+much of a spread, but if this 'ere Christmas chap sends one fer 'im,
+it'll be--_fine_!"
+
+Her eyes were dreamy with ecstasy. William stirred uneasily on his
+seat.
+
+"I tol' you it was _rot_," he said. "There isn't any Father Christmas.
+It's jus' an' ole tale folks tell you when you're a kid, an' you find
+out it's not true. He won't send no supper jus' cause he isn't
+anythin'. He's jus' nothin'--jus' an ole tale----"
+
+"Oh, shut _up!_" William turned sharply at the sound of the shrill
+voice from the bed within the room. "Let the kid 'ave a bit of
+pleasure lookin' forward to it, can't yer? It's little enough she 'as,
+anyway."
+
+William arose with dignity.
+
+"All right," he said. "Go'-bye."
+
+He strolled away down the street.
+
+"_Softie!_"
+
+It was a malicious sweet little voice.
+
+"_Swank_!"
+
+William flushed but forbore to turn round.
+
+That evening he met the little girl from next door in the road outside
+her house.
+
+"Hello, Joan!"
+
+"Hello, William!"
+
+In these blue eyes there was no malice or mockery. To Joan William was
+a god-like hero. His very wickedness partook of the divine.
+
+"Would you--would you like to come an' make a snow man in our garden,
+William?" she said tentatively.
+
+William knit his brows.
+
+"I dunno," he said ungraciously. "I was jus' kinder thinkin'."
+
+She looked at him silently, hoping that he would deign to tell her his
+thoughts, but not daring to ask. Joan held no modern views on the
+subject of the equality of the sexes.
+
+"Do you remember that ole tale 'bout Father Christmas, Joan?" he said
+at last.
+
+She nodded.
+
+"Well, s'pose you wanted somethin' very bad, an' you believed that ole
+tale and sent a bit of paper up the chimney 'bout what you wanted very
+bad and then you never got it, you'd feel kind of rotten, wouldn't
+you?"
+
+She nodded again.
+
+"I did one time," she said. "I sent a lovely list up the chimney and I
+never told anyone about it and I got lots of things for Christmas and
+not _one_ of the things I'd written for!"
+
+"Did you feel awful rotten?"
+
+"Yes, I did. Awful."
+
+"I say, Joan," importantly, "I've gotter secret."
+
+"_Do_ tell me, William!" she pleaded.
+
+"Can't. It's a crorse-me-throat secret!"
+
+She was mystified and impressed.
+
+"How _lovely_, William! Is it something you're going to do?"
+
+He considered.
+
+"It might be," he said.
+
+"I'd love to help." She fixed adoring blue eyes upon him.
+
+"Well, I'll see," said the lord of creation. "I say, Joan, you comin'
+to my party?"
+
+"Oh, _yes_!"
+
+"Well, there's an awful lot comin'. Johnny Brent an' all that lot. I'm
+jolly well not lookin' forward to it, I can _tell_ you."
+
+"Oh, I'm so sorry! Why did you ask them, William?"
+
+William laughed bitterly.
+
+"Why did I invite them?" he said. "_I_ don't invite people to my
+parties. _They_ do that."
+
+In William's vocabulary "they" always signified his immediate family
+circle.
+
+William had a strong imagination. When an idea took hold upon his
+mind, it was almost impossible for him to let it go. He was quite
+accustomed to Joan's adoring homage. The scornful mockery of his
+auburn-haired friend was something quite new, and in some strange
+fashion it intrigued and fascinated him. Mentally he recalled her
+excited little face, flushed with eagerness as she described the
+expected spread. Mentally also he conceived a vivid picture of the
+long waiting on Christmas Eve, the slowly fading hope, the final
+bitter disappointment. While engaging in furious snowball fights with
+Ginger, Douglas, and Henry, while annoying peaceful passers-by with
+well-aimed snow missiles, while bruising himself and most of his
+family black and blue on long and glassy slides along the garden
+paths, while purloining his family's clothes to adorn various
+unshapely snowmen, while walking across all the ice (preferably
+cracked) in the neighbourhood and being several times narrowly rescued
+from a watery grave--while following all these light holiday pursuits,
+the picture of the little auburn-haired girl's disappointment was ever
+vividly present in his mind.
+
+The day of his party drew near.
+
+"_My_ party," he would echo bitterly when anyone of his family
+mentioned it. "I don't _want_ it. I don't _want_ ole Johnnie Brent an'
+all that lot. I'd just like to un-invite 'em all."
+
+"But you want Ginger and Douglas and Henry," coaxed his Mother.
+
+"I can have them any time an' I don't like 'em at parties. They're not
+the same. I don't like _anyone_ at parties. I don't _want_ a party!"
+
+"But you _must_ have a party, William, to ask back people who ask
+you."
+
+William took up his previous attitude.
+
+"Well, where's the _sense_ of it?" he groaned.
+
+As usual he had the last word, but left his audience unconvinced. They
+began on him a full hour before his guests were due. He was brushed
+and scrubbed and scoured and cleaned. He was compressed into an Eton
+suit and patent leather pumps and finally deposited in the
+drawing-room, cowed and despondent, his noble spirit all but broken.
+
+The guests began to arrive. William shook hands politely with three
+strangers shining with soap, brushed to excess, and clothed in
+ceremonial Eton suits--who in ordinary life were Ginger, Douglas, and
+Henry. They then sat down and gazed at each other in strained and
+unnatural silence. They could find nothing to say to each other.
+Ordinary topics seemed to be precluded by their festive appearance and
+the formal nature of the occasion. Their informal meetings were
+usually celebrated by impromptu wrestling matches. This being
+debarred, a stiff, unnatural atmosphere descended upon them. William
+was a "host," they were "guests"; they had all listened to final
+maternal admonitions in which the word "manners" and "politeness"
+recurred at frequent intervals. They were, in fact, for the time
+being, complete strangers.
+
+Then Joan arrived and broke the constrained silence.
+
+"Hullo, William! Oh, William, you do look _nice_!"
+
+William smiled with distant politeness, but his heart warmed to her.
+It is always some comfort to learn that one has not suffered in vain.
+
+"How d'you do?" he said with a stiff bow.
+
+Then Johnnie Brent came and after him a host of small boys and girls.
+
+William greeted friends and foes alike with the same icy courtesy.
+
+Then the conjurer arrived.
+
+Mrs. Brown had planned the arrangement most carefully. The supper was
+laid on the big dining room table. There was to be conjuring for an
+hour before supper to "break the ice." In the meantime, while the
+conjuring was going on, the grown-ups who were officiating at the
+party were to have their meal in peace in the library.
+
+William had met the conjurer at various parties and despised him
+utterly. He despised his futile jokes and high-pitched laugh and he
+knew his tricks by heart. They sat in rows in front of him--shining-faced,
+well-brushed little boys in dark Eton suits and gleaming collars, and
+dainty white-dressed little girls with gay hair ribbons. William sat in
+the back row near the window, and next him sat Joan. She gazed at his
+set, expressionless face in mute sympathy. He listened to the monotonous
+voice of the conjurer.
+
+"Now, ladies and gentlemen, I will proceed to swallow these three
+needles and these three strands of cotton and shortly to bring out
+each needle threaded with a strand of cotton. Will any lady step
+forward and examine the needles? Ladies ought to know all about
+needles, oughtn't they? You young gentlemen don't learn to sew at
+school, do you? Ha! Ha! Perhaps some of you young gentlemen don't know
+what a needle is? Ha! Ha!"
+
+William scowled, and his thoughts flew off to the little house in the
+dirty back street. It was Christmas Eve. Her father was "comin' out."
+She would be waiting, watching with bright, expectant eyes for the
+"spread" she had demanded from Father Christmas to welcome her
+returning parent. It was a beastly shame. She was a silly little ass,
+anyway, not to believe him. He'd told her there wasn't any Father
+Christmas.
+
+"Now, ladies and gentlemen, I will bring out the three needles
+threaded with the three strands of cotton. Watch carefully, ladies and
+gentlemen. There! One! Two! Three! Now, I don't advise you young
+ladies and gentlemen to try this trick. Needles are very indigestible
+to some people. Ha! Ha! Not to me, of course! I can digest
+anything--needles, or marbles, or matches, or glass bowls--as you will
+soon see. Ha! Ha! Now to proceed, ladies and gentlemen."
+
+William looked at the clock and sighed. Anyway, there'd be supper
+soon, and that was a jolly good one, 'cause he'd had a look at it.
+
+Suddenly the inscrutable look left his countenance. He gave a sudden
+gasp and his whole face lit up. Joan turned to him.
+
+"Come on!" he whispered, rising stealthily from his seat.
+
+The room was in half darkness and the conjurer was just producing a
+white rabbit from his left toe, so that few noticed William's quiet
+exit by the window followed by that of the blindly obedient Joan.
+
+"You wait!" he whispered in the darkness of the garden. She waited,
+shivering in her little white muslin dress, till he returned from the
+stable wheeling a hand-cart, consisting of a large packing case on
+wheels and finished with a handle. He wheeled it round to the open
+French window that led into the dining-room. "Come on!" he whispered
+again.
+
+[Illustration: FEW NOTICED WILLIAM'S EXIT BY THE WINDOW, FOLLOWED BY
+THE BLINDLY OBEDIENT JOAN.]
+
+Following his example, she began to carry the plates of sandwiches,
+sausage rolls, meat pies, bread and butter, cakes and biscuits of
+every variety from the table to the hand-cart. On the top they
+balanced carefully the plates of jelly and blanc-mange and dishes of
+trifle, and round the sides they packed armfuls of crackers.
+
+At the end she whispered softly, "What's it for, William?"
+
+"It's the secret," he said. "The crorse-me-throat secret I told you."
+
+"Am I going to help?" she said in delight.
+
+He nodded.
+
+"Jus' wait a minute," he added, and crept from the dining-room to the
+hall and upstairs.
+
+He returned with a bundle of clothing which he proceeded to arrange in
+the garden. He first donned his own red dressing gown and then wound a
+white scarf round his head, tying it under his chin so that the ends
+hung down.
+
+"I'm makin' believe I'm Father Christmas," he deigned to explain. "An'
+I'm makin' believe this white stuff is hair an' beard. An' this is for
+you to wear so's you won't get cold."
+
+He held out a little white satin cloak edged with swansdown.
+
+"Oh, how _lovely_, William! But it's not my cloak! It's Sadie
+Murford's!"
+
+"Never mind! you can wear it," said William generously.
+
+Then, taking the handles of the cart, he set off down the drive. From
+the drawing-room came the sound of a chorus of delight as the conjurer
+produced a goldfish in a glass bowl from his head. From the kitchen
+came the sound of the hilarious laughter of the maids. Only in the
+dining-room, with its horrible expanse of empty table, was silence.
+
+They walked down the road without speaking till Joan gave a little
+excited laugh.
+
+"This is _fun_, William! I do wonder what we're going to do."
+
+"You'll see," said William. "I'd better not tell you yet. I promised a
+crorse-me-throat promise I wouldn't tell anyone."
+
+"All right, William," she said sweetly. "I don't mind a bit."
+
+The evening was dark and rather foggy, so that the strange couple
+attracted little attention, except when passing beneath the street
+lamps. Then certainly people stood still and looked at William and his
+cart in open-mouthed amazement.
+
+At last they turned down a back street towards a door that stood open
+to the dark, foggy night. Inside the room was a bare table at which
+sat a little girl, her blue, anxious eyes fixed on the open door.
+
+"I hope he gets here before Dad," she said. "I wouldn't like Dad to
+come and find it not ready!"
+
+The woman on the bed closed her eyes wearily.
+
+"I don't think he'll come now, dearie. We must just get on without
+it."
+
+The little girl sprang up, her pale cheek suddenly flushed.
+
+"Oh, _listen_!" she cried; "_something's_ coming!"
+
+They listened in breathless silence, while the sound of wheels came
+down the street towards the empty door. Then--an old hand-cart
+appeared in the doorway and behind it William in his strange attire,
+and Joan in her fairy-like white--white cloak, white dress, white
+socks and shoes--her bright curls clustered with gleaming fog jewels.
+
+The little girl clasped her hands. Her face broke into a rapt smile.
+Her blue eyes were like stars.
+
+[Illustration: FIRST THE JELLIES AND BLANC MANGES--THEN THE MEAT PIES
+AND TRIFLES.]
+
+"Oh, oh!" she cried. "It's Father Christmas and a fairy!"
+
+Without a word William pushed the cart through the doorway into the
+room and began to remove its contents and place them on the table.
+First the jellies and trifles and blanc-manges, then the meat pies,
+pastries, sausage rolls, sandwiches, biscuits, and cakes--sugar-coated,
+cream-interlayered, full of plums and nuts and fruit. William's mother
+had had wide experience and knew well what food most appealed to small
+boys and girls. Moreover she had provided plentifully for her twenty
+guests.
+
+The little girl was past speech. The woman looked at them in dumb
+wonder. Then:
+
+"Why, you're the boy she was talkin' to," she said at last. "It's real
+kind of you. She was gettin' that upset. It 'ud have broke her heart
+if nothin' had come an' I couldn't do nothin'. It's real kind of yer,
+sir!" Her eyes were misty.
+
+Joan placed the last cake on the table, and William, who was rather
+warm after his exertions, removed his scarf.
+
+The child gave a little sobbing laugh.
+
+"Oh, isn't it _lovely_? I'm so happy! You're the funny boy, aren't
+you, dressed up as Father Christmas? Or did Father Christmas send you?
+Or were you Father Christmas all the time? May I kiss the fairy? Would
+she mind? She's so beautiful!"
+
+Joan came forward and kissed her shyly, and the woman on the bed
+smiled unsteadily.
+
+"It's real kind of you both," she murmured again.
+
+Then the door opened, and the lord and master of the house entered
+after his six months' absence. He came in no sheepish hang-dog
+fashion. He entered cheerily and boisterously as any parent might on
+returning from a hard-earned holiday.
+
+"'Ello, Missus! 'Ello, Kid! 'Ello! Wot's all this 'ere?" His eyes fell
+upon William. "'Ello young gent!"
+
+"Happy Christmas," William murmured politely.
+
+"Sime to you an' many of them. 'Ow are you, Missus? Kid looked arter
+you all right? That's _right_. Oh, I _sye_! Where's the grub come
+from? Fair mikes me mouth water. I 'aven't seen nuffin' like
+_this_--not fer _some_ time!"
+
+There was a torrent of explanations, everyone talking at once. He gave
+a loud guffaw at the end.
+
+"Well, we're much obliged to this young gent and this little lady, and
+now we'll 'ave a good ole supper. This is all _right_, this is! Now,
+Missus, you 'ave a good feed. Now, 'fore we begin, I sye three cheers
+fer the young gent and little lady. Come on, now, 'Ip, 'ip, 'ip,
+'_ooray_! Now, little lady, you come 'ere. That's fine, that is! Now
+'oo'll 'ave a meat pie? 'Oo's fer a meat pie? Come on, Missus! That's
+right. We'll _all_ 'ave meat pies! This 'ere's sumfin _like_
+Christmas, eh? We've not 'ad a Christmas like this--not for many a
+long year. Now, 'urry up, Kid. Don't spend all yer time larfin'. Now,
+ladies an' gents, 'oo's fer a sausage roll? All of us? Come on, then!
+I mustn't eat too 'eavy or I won't be able to sing to yer aterwards,
+will I? I've got some fine songs, young gent. And Kid 'ere 'll dance
+fer yer. She's a fine little dancer, she is! Now, come on, ladies an'
+gents, sandwiches? More pies? Come on!"
+
+They laughed and chattered merrily. The woman sat up in bed, her eyes
+bright and her cheeks flushed. To William and Joan it was like some
+strange and wonderful dream.
+
+And at that precise moment Mrs. Brown had sunk down upon the nearest
+dining-room chair on the verge of tears, and twenty pairs of hungry
+horrified eyes in twenty clean, staring, open-mouthed little faces
+surveyed the bare expanse of the dining-room table. And the cry that
+went up all round was:--
+
+"_Where's William?_"
+
+And then:--
+
+"_Where's Joan?_"
+
+They searched the house and garden and stable for them in vain. They
+sent the twenty enraged guests home supperless and aggrieved.
+
+"Has William eaten _all_ our suppers?" they said.
+
+"Where _is_ he? Is he dead?"
+
+"People will never forget," wailed Mrs. Brown. "It's simply dreadful.
+And where _is_ William?"
+
+They rang up police-stations for miles around.
+
+"If they've eaten all that food--the two of them," said Mrs. Brown
+almost distraught, "they'll _die_! They may be dying in some hospital
+now! And I do wish Mrs. Murford would stop ringing up about Sadie's
+cloak. I've told her it's not here!"
+
+Meantime there was dancing, and singing, and games, and
+cracker-pulling in a small house in a back street not very far away.
+
+"I've never had such a _lovely_ time in my life," gasped the Kid
+breathlessly at the end of one of the many games into which William
+had initiated them. "I've never, never, _never_----"
+
+"We won't ferget you in a 'urry, young man," her father added, "nor
+the little lady neither. We'll 'ave many talks about this 'ere!"
+
+Joan was sitting on the bed, laughing and panting, her curls all
+disordered.
+
+"I wish," said William wistfully, "I wish you'd let me come with you
+when you go stealin' some day!"
+
+"I'm not goin' stealin' _no_ more, young gent," said his friend
+solemnly. "I got a job--a real steady job--brick-layin', an' I'm goin'
+to stick to it."
+
+All good things must come to an end, and soon William donned his red
+dressing-gown again and Joan her borrowed cloak, and they helped to
+store the remnants of the feast in the larder--the remnants of the
+feast would provide the ex-burglar and his family with food for many
+days to come. Then they took the empty hand-cart and, after many fond
+farewells, set off homeward through the dark.
+
+Mr. Brown had come home and assumed charge of operations.
+
+Ethel was weeping on the sofa in the library.
+
+"Oh, dear little William!" she sobbed. "I do _wish_ I'd always been
+kind to him!"
+
+Mrs. Brown was reclining, pale and haggard, in the arm-chair.
+
+"There's the Roughborough Canal, John!" she was saying weakly. "And
+Joan's mother will always say it was our fault. Oh, _poor_ little
+William!"
+
+"It's a good ten miles away," said her husband drily. "I don't think
+even William----" He rang up fiercely. "Confound these brainless police!
+Hallo! Any news? A boy and girl and supper for twenty can't disappear
+off the face of the earth. No, there had been _no_ trouble at home.
+There probably _will_ be when he turns up, but there was none before!
+If he wanted to run away, why would he burden himself with a supper
+for twenty? Why--one minute!"
+
+The front door opened and Mrs. Brown ran into the hall.
+
+A well-known voice was heard speaking quickly and irritably.
+
+"I jus' went away, that's all! I jus' thought of something I wanted to
+do, that's all! Yes, I _did_ take the supper. I jus' wanted it for
+something. It's a secret what I wanted it for, I----"
+
+[Illustration: "WASN'T SHE A JOLLY LITTLE KID?" WILLIAM SAID
+EAGERLY.]
+
+"_William_!" said Mr. Brown.
+
+Through the scenes that followed William preserved a dignified
+silence, even to the point of refusing any explanation. Such
+explanation as there was filtered through from Joan's mother by means
+of the telephone.
+
+"It was all William's idea," Joan's mother said plaintively. "Joan
+would never have done _anything_ if William hadn't practically _made_
+her. I expect she's caught her death of cold. She's in bed now----"
+
+"Yes, so is William. I can't _think_ what they wanted to take _all_
+the food for. And he was just a common man straight from prison. It's
+dreadful. I do hope they haven't picked up any awful language. Have
+you given Joan some quinine? Oh, Mrs. Murford's just rung up to see if
+Sadie's cloak has turned up. Will you send it round? I feel so _upset_
+by it all. If it wasn't Christmas Eve----"
+
+The houses occupied by William's and Joan's families respectively were
+semi-detached, but William's and Joan's bedroom windows faced each
+other, and there was only about five yards between them.
+
+[Illustration: "YES," A PAUSE, THEN--"WILLIAM, YOU DON'T LIKE HER
+BETTER THAN ME, DO YOU?"]
+
+There came to William's ears as he lay drowsily in bed the sound of a
+gentle rattle at the window. He got up and opened it. At the opposite
+window a little white-robed figure leant out, whose golden curls shone
+in the starlight.
+
+"William," she whispered, "I threw some beads to see if you were
+awake. Were your folks mad?"
+
+"Awful," said William laconically.
+
+"Mine were too. I di'n't care, did you?"
+
+"No, I di'n't. Not a bit!"
+
+"William, wasn't it _fun_? I wish it was just beginning again, don't
+you?"
+
+"Yes, I jus' do. I say, Joan, wasn't she a jolly little kid and di'n't
+she dance fine?"
+
+"Yes,"--a pause--then, "William, you don't like her better'n me, do
+you?"
+
+William considered.
+
+"No, I don't," he said at last.
+
+A soft sigh of relief came through the darkness.
+
+"I'm so _glad_! Go'-night, William."
+
+"Go'-night," said William sleepily, drawing down his window as he
+spoke.
+
+
+
+***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MORE WILLIAM***
+
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+    "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd">
+<html>
+<head>
+<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=ISO-8859-1" />
+<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of More William, by Richmal Crompton</title>
+    <style type="text/css">
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+<body>
+<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, More William, by Richmal Crompton,
+Illustrated by Thomas Henry</h1>
+<pre>
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at <a href = "https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre>
+<p>Title: More William</p>
+<p>Author: Richmal Crompton</p>
+<p>Release Date: November 21, 2005  [eBook #17125]</p>
+<p>Language: English</p>
+<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p>
+<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MORE WILLIAM***</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h3>E-text prepared by David Clarke, Geetu Melwani,<br />
+    and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br />
+    (https://www.pgdp.net/)</h3>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr class="full" />
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h1>MORE WILLIAM</h1>
+
+<h3>BY</h3>
+
+<h2>RICHMAL CROMPTON</h2>
+
+
+<h3>ILLUSTRATED BY<br />
+THOMAS HENRY</h3>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+
+<p class="center">LONDON</p>
+
+<p class="center">GEORGE NEWNES, LIMITED<br />
+SOUTHAMPTON ST., STRAND, W.C.
+</p>
+<h4>1924</h4>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 249px;">
+<a href="images/front.jpg"><img src="images/front_t.jpg" width="249" height="400"
+alt="&quot;Wot you dressed up like that for?&quot; said the
+apparition, with a touch of scorn in his voice.
+(See Chapter IX. The Revenge.)" title="" /></a>
+<span class="caption">&quot;Wot you dressed up like that for?&quot; said the
+apparition, with a touch of scorn in his voice. (See Chapter IX. <span class="smcap">The Revenge</span>.)</span>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<h2><span class="smcap">Contents</span></h2><p class="center">
+<a href="#CH_I">I. <span class="smcap">A Busy Day</span></a><br /><br />
+<a href="#CH_II">II. <span class="smcap">Rice-Mould</span></a><br /><br />
+<a href="#CH_III">III. <span class="smcap">William's Burglar</span></a><br /><br />
+<a href="#CH_IV">IV. <span class="smcap">The Knight at Arms</span></a><br /><br />
+<a href="#CH_V">V. <span class="smcap">William's Hobby</span></a><br /><br />
+<a href="#CH_VI">VI. <span class="smcap">The Rivals</span></a><br /><br />
+<a href="#CH_VII">VII. <span class="smcap">The Ghost</span></a><br /><br />
+<a href="#CH_VIII">VIII. <span class="smcap">The May King</span></a><br /><br />
+<a href="#CH_IX">IX. <span class="smcap">The Revenge</span></a><br /><br />
+<a href="#CH_X">X. <span class="smcap">The Helper</span></a><br /><br />
+<a href="#CH_XI">XI. <span class="smcap">William and the Smuggler</span></a><br /><br />
+<a href="#CH_XII">XII. <span class="smcap">The Reform of William</span></a><br /><br />
+<a href="#CH_XIII">XIII. <span class="smcap">William and the Ancient Souls</span></a><br /><br />
+<a href="#CH_XIV">XIV. <span class="smcap">William's Christmas Eve</span></a><br /><br /></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CH_I" id="CH_I"></a>I</h2>
+<h2><span class="smcap">A Busy Day</span></h2>
+
+
+<p>William awoke and rubbed his eyes. It was Christmas Day&mdash;the day to
+which he had looked forward with mingled feelings for twelve months.
+It was a jolly day, of course&mdash;presents and turkey and crackers and
+staying up late. On the other hand, there were generally too many
+relations about, too much was often expected of one, the curious taste
+displayed by people who gave one presents often marred one's pleasure.</p>
+
+<p>He looked round his bedroom expectantly. On the wall, just opposite
+his bed, was a large illuminated card hanging by a string from a
+nail&mdash;"A Busy Day is a Happy Day." That had not been there the day
+before. Brightly-coloured roses and forget-me-nots and honeysuckle
+twined round all the words. William hastily thought over the three
+aunts staying in the house, and put it down to Aunt Lucy. He looked at
+it with a doubtful frown. He distrusted the sentiment.</p>
+
+<p>A copy of "Portraits of our Kings and Queens" he put aside as beneath
+contempt. "Things a Boy Can Do" was more promising. <i>Much</i> more
+promising. After inspecting a penknife, a pocket-compass, and a
+pencil-box (which shared the fate of "Portraits of our Kings and
+Queens"), William returned to "Things a Boy Can Do." As he turned the
+pages, his face lit up.</p>
+
+<p>He leapt lightly out of bed and dressed. Then he began to arrange his
+own gifts to his family. For his father he had bought a bottle of
+highly-coloured sweets, for his elder brother Robert (aged nineteen)
+he had expended a vast sum of money on a copy of "The Pirates of the
+Bloody Hand." These gifts had cost him much thought. The knowledge
+that his father never touched sweets, and that Robert professed scorn
+of pirate stories, had led him to hope that the recipients of his
+gifts would make no objection to the unobtrusive theft of them by
+their recent donor in the course of the next few days. For his
+grown-up sister Ethel he had bought a box of coloured chalks. That
+also might come in useful later. Funds now had been running low, but
+for his mother he had bought a small cream-jug which, after fierce
+bargaining, the man had let him have at half-price because it was
+cracked.</p>
+
+<p>Singing "Christians Awake!" at the top of his lusty young voice, he
+went along the landing, putting his gifts outside the doors of his
+family, and pausing to yell "Happy Christmas" as he did so. From
+within he was greeted in each case by muffled groans.</p>
+
+<p>He went downstairs into the hall, still singing. It was earlier than
+he thought&mdash;just five o'clock. The maids were not down yet. He
+switched on lights recklessly, and discovered that he was not the only
+person in the hall. His four-year-old cousin Jimmy was sitting on the
+bottom step in an attitude of despondency, holding an empty tin.</p>
+
+<p>Jimmy's mother had influenza at home, and Jimmy and his small sister
+Barbara were in the happy position of spending Christmas with
+relations, but immune from parental or maternal interference.</p>
+
+<p>"They've gotten out," said Jimmy, sadly. "I got 'em for presents
+yesterday, an' they've gotten out. I've been feeling for 'em in the
+dark, but I can't find 'em."</p>
+
+<p>"What?" said William.</p>
+
+<p>"Snails. Great big suge ones wiv great big suge shells. I put 'em in a
+tin for presents an' they've gotten out an' I've gotten no presents
+for nobody."</p>
+
+<p>He relapsed into despondency.</p>
+
+<p>William surveyed the hall.</p>
+
+<p>"They've got out right enough!" he said, sternly. "They've got out
+right <i>enough</i>. Jus' look at our hall! Jus' look at our clothes!
+They've got out <i>right</i> enough."</p>
+
+<p>Innumerable slimy iridescent trails shone over hats, and coats, and
+umbrellas, and wall-paper.</p>
+
+<p>"Huh!" grunted William, who was apt to overwork his phrases. "They've
+got <i>out</i> right enough."</p>
+
+<p>He looked at the tracks again and brightened. Jimmy was frankly
+delighted.</p>
+
+<p>"Oo! Look!" he cried, "Oo <i>funny</i>!"</p>
+
+<p>William's thoughts flew back to his bedroom wall&mdash;"A Busy Day is a
+Happy Day."</p>
+
+<p>"Let's clean it up!" he said. "Let's have it all nice an' clean for
+when they come down. We'll be busy. You tell me if you feel happy when
+we've done. It might be true wot it says, but I don't like the flowers
+messin' all over it."</p>
+
+<p>Investigation in the kitchen provided them with a large pail of water
+and a scrubbing-brush each.</p>
+
+<p>For a long time they worked in silence. They used plenty of water.
+When they had finished the trails were all gone. Each soaked garment
+on the hat-stand was sending a steady drip on to the already flooded
+floor. The wall-paper was sodden. With a feeling of blankness they
+realised that there was nothing else to clean.</p>
+
+<p>It was Jimmy who conceived the exquisite idea of dipping his brush in
+the bucket and sprinkling William with water. A scrubbing-brush is in
+many ways almost as good as a hose. Each had a pail of ammunition.
+Each had a good-sized brush. During the next few minutes they
+experienced purest joy. Then William heard threatening movements
+above, and decided hastily that the battle must cease.</p>
+
+<p>"Backstairs," he said shortly. "Come on."</p>
+
+<p>Marking their track by a running stream of water, they crept up the
+backstairs.</p>
+
+<p>But two small boys soaked to the skin could not disclaim all
+knowledge of a flooded hall.</p>
+
+<p>William was calm and collected when confronted with a distracted
+mother.</p>
+
+<p>"We was tryin' to clean up," he said. "We found all snail marks an' we
+was tryin' to clean up. We was tryin' to help. You said so last night,
+you know, when you was talkin' to me. You said to <i>help</i>. Well, I
+thought it was helpin' to try an' clean up. You can't clean up with
+water an' not get wet&mdash;not if you do it prop'ly. You said to try an'
+make Christmas Day happy for other folks and then I'd be happy. Well,
+I don't know as I'm very happy," he said, bitterly, "but I've been
+workin' hard enough since early this mornin'. I've been workin'," he
+went on pathetically. His eye wandered to the notice on his wall.
+"I've been <i>busy</i> all right, but it doesn't make me <i>happy</i>&mdash;not jus'
+now," he added, with memories of the rapture of the fight. That
+certainly must be repeated some time. Buckets of water and
+scrubbing-brushes. He wondered he'd never thought of that before.</p>
+
+<p>William's mother looked down at his dripping form.</p>
+
+<p>"Did you get all that water with just cleaning up the snail marks?"
+she said.</p>
+
+<p>William coughed and cleared his throat. "Well," he said,
+deprecatingly, "most of it. I think I got most of it."</p>
+
+<p>"If it wasn't Christmas Day ..." she went on darkly.</p>
+
+<p>William's spirits rose. There was certainly something to be said for
+Christmas Day.</p>
+
+<p>It was decided to hide the traces of the crime as far as possible from
+William's father. It was felt&mdash;and not without reason&mdash;that William's
+father's feelings of respect for the sanctity of Christmas Day might
+be overcome by his feelings of paternal ire.</p>
+
+<p>Half-an-hour later William, dried, dressed, brushed, and chastened,
+descended the stairs as the gong sounded in a hall which was bare of
+hats and coats, and whose floor shone with cleanliness.</p>
+
+<p>"And jus' to think," said William, despondently, "that it's only jus'
+got to brekfust time."</p>
+
+<p>William's father was at the bottom of the stairs. William's father
+frankly disliked Christmas Day.</p>
+
+<p>"Good-morning, William," he said, "and a happy Christmas, and I hope
+it's not too much to ask of you that on this relation-infested day
+one's feelings may be harrowed by you as little as possible. And why
+the deu&mdash;dickens they think it necessary to wash the hall floor before
+breakfast, Heaven only knows!"</p>
+
+<p>William coughed, a cough meant to be a polite mixture of greeting and
+deference. William's face was a study in holy innocence. His father
+glanced at him suspiciously. There were certain expressions of
+William's that he distrusted.</p>
+
+<p>William entered the dining-room morosely. Jimmy's sister Barbara&mdash;a
+small bundle of curls and white frills&mdash;was already beginning her
+porridge.</p>
+
+<p>"Goo' mornin'," she said, politely, "did you hear me cleanin' my
+teef?"</p>
+
+<p>He crushed her with a glance.</p>
+
+<p>He sat eating in silence till everyone had come down, and Aunts Jane,
+Evangeline, and Lucy were consuming porridge with that mixture of
+festivity and solemnity that they felt the occasion demanded.</p>
+
+<p>Then Jimmy entered, radiant, with a tin in his hand.</p>
+
+<p>"Got presents," he said, proudly. "Got presents, lots of presents."</p>
+
+<p>He deposited on Barbara's plate a worm which Barbara promptly threw at
+his face. Jimmy looked at her reproachfully and proceeded to Aunt
+Evangeline. Aunt Evangeline's gift was a centipede&mdash;a live centipede
+that ran gaily off the tablecloth on to Aunt Evangeline's lap before
+anyone could stop it. With a yell that sent William's father to the
+library with his hands to his ears, Aunt Evangeline leapt to her chair
+and stood with her skirts held to her knees.</p>
+
+<p>"Help! Help!" she cried. "The horrible boy! Catch it! Kill it!"</p>
+
+<p>Jimmy gazed at her in amazement, and Barbara looked with interest at
+Aunt Evangeline's long expanse of shin.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>My</i> legs isn't like <i>your</i> legs," she said pleasantly and
+conversationally. "My legs is knees."</p>
+
+<p>It was some time before order was restored, the centipede killed, and
+Jimmy's remaining gifts thrown out of the window. William looked
+across the table at Jimmy with respect in his eye. Jimmy, in spite of
+his youth, was an acquaintance worth cultivating. Jimmy was eating
+porridge unconcernedly.</p>
+
+<p>Aunt Evangeline had rushed from the room when the slaughter of the
+centipede had left the coast clear, and refused to return. She carried
+on a conversation from the top of the stairs.</p>
+
+<p>"When that horrible child has gone, I'll come. He may have insects
+concealed on his person. And someone's been dropping water all over
+these stairs. They're <i>damp</i>!"</p>
+
+<p>"Dear, dear!" murmured Aunt Jane, sadly.</p>
+
+<p>Jimmy looked up from his porridge.</p>
+
+<p>"How was I to know she didn't like insecks?" he said, aggrievedly.
+"<i>I</i> like 'em."</p>
+
+<p>William's mother's despair was only tempered by the fact that this
+time William was not the culprit. To William also it was a novel
+sensation. He realised the advantages of a fellow criminal.</p>
+
+<p>After breakfast peace reigned. William's father went out for a walk
+with Robert. The aunts sat round the drawing-room fire talking and
+doing crochet-work. In this consists the whole art and duty of
+aunthood. <i>All</i> aunts do crochet-work.</p>
+
+<p>They had made careful inquiries about the time of the service.</p>
+
+<p>"You needn't worry," had said William's mother. "It's at 10.30, and
+if you go to get ready when the clock in the library strikes ten it
+will give you heaps of time."</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 256px;">
+<a href="images/fig1.jpg"><img src="images/fig1_t.jpg" width="256" height="400" alt="Around them lay, most indecently exposed, the internal
+arrangements of the Library Clock." title="" /></a>
+<span class="caption">Around them lay, most indecently exposed, the internal
+arrangements of the Library Clock.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Peace ... calm ... quiet. Mrs. Brown and Ethel in the kitchen
+supervising the arrangements for the day. The aunts in the
+drawing-room discussing over their crochet-work the terrible way in
+which their sisters had brought up their children. That, also, is a
+necessary part of aunthood.</p>
+
+<p>Time slipped by happily and peacefully. Then William's mother came
+into the drawing-room.</p>
+
+<p>"I thought you were going to church," she said.</p>
+
+<p>"We are. The clock hasn't struck."</p>
+
+<p>"But&mdash;it's eleven o'clock!"</p>
+
+<p>There was a gasp of dismay.</p>
+
+<p>"The clock never struck!"</p>
+
+<p>Indignantly they set off to the library. Peace and quiet reigned also
+in the library. On the floor sat William and Jimmy gazing with frowns
+of concentration at an open page of "Things a Boy Can Do." Around them
+lay most indecently exposed the internal arrangements of the library
+clock.</p>
+
+<p>"William! You <i>wicked</i> boy!"</p>
+
+<p>William raised a frowning face.</p>
+
+<p>"It's not put together right," he said, "it's not been put together
+right all this time. We're makin' it right now. It must have wanted
+mendin' for ever so long. <i>I</i> dunno how it's been goin' at all. It's
+lucky we found it out. It's put together wrong. I guess it's <i>made</i>
+wrong. It's goin' to be a lot of trouble to us to put it right, an' we
+can't do much when you're all standin' in the light. We're very
+busy&mdash;workin' at tryin' to mend this ole clock for you all."</p>
+
+<p>"Clever," said Jimmy, admiringly. "Mendin' the clock. <i>Clever!</i>"</p>
+
+<p>"William!" groaned his mother, "you've ruined the clock. What <i>will</i>
+your father say?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, the cog-wheels was wrong," said William doggedly. "See? An'
+this ratchet-wheel isn't on the pawl prop'ly&mdash;not like what this book
+says it ought to be. Seems we've got to take it all to pieces to get
+it right. Seems to me the person wot made this clock didn't know much
+about clock-making. Seems to me&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Be <i>quiet</i>, William!"</p>
+
+<p>"We was be quietin' 'fore you came in," said Jimmy, severely. "You
+'sturbed us."</p>
+
+<p>"Leave it just as it is, William," said his mother.</p>
+
+<p>"You don't <i>unnerstand</i>," said William with the excitement of the
+fanatic. "The cog-wheel an' the ratchet ought to be put on the arbor
+different. See, this is the cog-wheel. Well, it oughtn't to be like
+wot it was. It was put on all <i>wrong</i>. Well, we was mendin' it. An' we
+was doin' it for <i>you</i>," he ended, bitterly, "jus' to help an'&mdash;to&mdash;to
+make other folks happy. It makes folks happy havin' clocks goin'
+right, anyone would <i>think</i>. But if you <i>want</i> your clocks put
+together wrong, <i>I</i> don't care."</p>
+
+<p>He picked up his book and walked proudly from the room followed by the
+admiring Jimmy.</p>
+
+<p>"William," said Aunt Lucy patiently, as he passed, "I don't want to
+say anything unkind, and I hope you won't remember all your life that
+you have completely spoilt this Christmas Day for me."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, dear!" murmured Aunt Jane, sadly.</p>
+
+<p>William, with a look before which she should have sunk into the earth,
+answered shortly that he didn't think he would.</p>
+
+<p>During the midday dinner the grown-ups, as is the foolish fashion of
+grown-ups, wasted much valuable time in the discussion of such
+futilities as the weather and the political state of the nation. Aunt
+Lucy was still suffering and aggrieved.</p>
+
+<p>"I can go this evening, of course," she said, "but it's not quite the
+same. The morning service is different. Yes, please, dear&mdash;<i>and</i>
+stuffing. Yes, I'll have a little more turkey, too. And, of course,
+the vicar may not preach to-night. That makes such a difference. The
+gravy on the potatoes, please. It's almost the first Christmas I've
+not been in the morning. It seems quite to have spoilt the day for
+me."</p>
+
+<p>She bent on William a glance of gentle reproach. William was quite
+capable of meeting adequately that or any other glance, but at present
+he was too busy for minor hostilities. He was <i>extremely</i> busy. He was
+doing his utmost to do full justice to a meal that only happens once a
+year.</p>
+
+<p>"William," said Barbara pleasantly, "I can <i>dweam</i>. Can you?"</p>
+
+<p>He made no answer.</p>
+
+<p>"Answer your cousin, William," said his mother.</p>
+
+<p>He swallowed, then spoke plaintively, "You always say not to talk with
+my mouth full," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"You could speak when you've finished the mouthful."</p>
+
+<p>"No. 'Cause I want to fill it again then," said William, firmly.</p>
+
+<p>"Dear, <i>dear</i>!" murmured Aunt Jane.</p>
+
+<p>This was Aunt Jane's usual contribution to any conversation.</p>
+
+<p>He looked coldly at the three pairs of horrified aunts' eyes around
+him, then placidly continued his meal.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Brown hastily changed the subject of conversation. The art of
+combining the duties of mother and hostess is sometimes a difficult
+one.</p>
+
+<p>Christmas afternoon is a time of rest. The three aunts withdrew from
+public life. Aunt Lucy found a book of sermons in the library and
+retired to her bedroom with it.</p>
+
+<p>"It's the next best thing, I think," she said with a sad glance at
+William.</p>
+
+<p>William was beginning definitely to dislike Aunt Lucy.</p>
+
+<p>"Please'm," said the cook an hour later, "the mincing machine's
+disappeared."</p>
+
+<p>"Disappeared?" said William's mother, raising her hand to her head.</p>
+
+<p>"Clean gone'm. 'Ow'm I to get the supper'm? You said as 'ow I could
+get it done this afternoon so as to go to church this evening. I can't
+do nuffink with the mincing machine gone."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll come and look."</p>
+
+<p>They searched every corner of the kitchen, then William's mother had
+an idea. William's mother had not been William's mother for eleven
+years without learning many things. She went wearily up to William's
+bedroom.</p>
+
+<p>William was sitting on the floor. Open beside him was "Things a Boy
+Can Do." Around him lay various parts of the mincing machine. His face
+was set and strained in mental and physical effort. He looked up as
+she entered.</p>
+
+<p>"It's a funny kind of mincing machine," he said, crushingly. "It's not
+got enough parts. It's <i>made</i> wrong&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Do you know," she said, slowly, "that we've all been looking for that
+mincin' machine for the last half-hour?"</p>
+
+<p>"No," he said without much interest, "I di'n't. I'd have told you I
+was mendin' it if you'd told me you was lookin' for it. It's <i>wrong</i>,"
+he went on aggrievedly. "I can't make anything with it. Look! It says
+in my book 'How to make a model railway signal with parts of a mincing
+machine.' Listen! It says, 'Borrow a mincing machine from your
+mother&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Did you borrow it?" said Mrs. Brown.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. Well, I've got it, haven't I? I went all the way down to the
+kitchen for it."</p>
+
+<p>"Who lent it to you?"</p>
+
+<p>"No one <i>lent</i> it me. I <i>borrowed</i> it. I thought you'd like to see a
+model railway signal. I thought you'd be interested. Anyone would
+think anyone would be interested in seein' a railway signal made out
+of a mincin' machine."</p>
+
+<p>His tone implied that the dullness of people in general was simply
+beyond him. "An' you haven't got a right sort of mincin' machine. It's
+wrong. Its parts are the wrong shape. I've been hammerin' them, tryin'
+to make them right, but they're <i>made</i> wrong."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Brown was past expostulating. "Take them all down to the kitchen
+to cook," she said. "She's waiting for them."</p>
+
+<p>On the stairs William met Aunt Lucy carrying her volume of sermons.</p>
+
+<p>"It's not quite the same as the spoken word, William, dear," she said.
+"It hasn't the <i>force</i>. The written word doesn't reach the <i>heart</i> as
+the spoken word does, but I don't want you to worry about it."</p>
+
+<p>William walked on as if he had not heard her.</p>
+
+<p>It was Aunt Jane who insisted on the little entertainment after tea.</p>
+
+<p>"I <i>love</i> to hear the dear children recite," she said. "I'm sure they
+all have some little recitation they can say."</p>
+
+<p>Barbara arose with shy delight to say her piece.</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">"<i>Lickle bwown seed, lickle bwown bwother,</i></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;"><i>And what, pway, are you goin' to be?</i></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;"><i>I'll be a poppy as white as my mother,</i></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;"><i>Oh, DO be a poppy like me!</i></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;"><i>What, you'll be a sunflower? Oh, how I shall miss you</i></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;"><i>When you are golden and high!</i></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;"><i>But I'll send all the bees up to tiss you.</i></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;"><i>Lickle bwown bwother, good-bye!"</i></span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>She sat down blushing, amid rapturous applause.</p>
+
+<p>Next Jimmy was dragged from his corner. He stood up as one prepared
+for the worst, shut his eyes, and&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">"<i>Licklaxokindness lickledeedsolove&mdash;</i></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;"><i>make&mdash;thisearfanedenliketheeav'nabovethasalliknow.</i>"</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>he gasped all in one breath, and sat down panting.</p>
+
+<p>This was greeted with slightly milder applause.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, William!"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know any," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, you <i>do</i>," said his mother. "Say the one you learnt at school
+last term. Stand up, dear, and speak clearly."</p>
+
+<p>Slowly William rose to his feet.</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">"<i>It was the schooner Hesperus that sailed the wintry sea,</i>"</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>he began.</p>
+
+<p>Here he stopped, coughed, cleared his throat, and began again.</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">"<i>It was the schooner Hesperus that sailed the wintry sea.</i>"</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, get <i>on</i>!" muttered his brother, irritably.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
+<a href="images/fig2.jpg"><img src="images/fig2_t.jpg" width="400" height="326" alt="&quot;It was the Hesper Schoonerus that sailed the wintry
+sea an&#39; i&#39;m not goin&#39; on if Ethel&#39;s goin&#39; to keep gigglin&#39;.&quot;" title="" /></a>
+<span class="caption">&quot;It was the Hesper Schoonerus that sailed the wintry
+sea an&#39; i&#39;m not goin&#39; on if Ethel&#39;s goin&#39; to keep gigglin&#39;.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"I can't get on if you keep talkin' to me," said William, sternly.
+"How can I get on if you keep takin' all the time up <i>sayin'</i> get on?
+I can't get on if you're talkin', can I?"</p>
+
+<p>"It was the Hesper Schoonerus that sailed the wintry sea an' I'm not
+goin' on if Ethel's goin' to keep gigglin'. It's not a funny piece,
+an' if she's goin' on gigglin' like that I'm not sayin' any more of
+it."</p>
+
+<p>"Ethel, dear!" murmured Mrs. Brown, reproachfully. Ethel turned her
+chair completely round and left her back only exposed to William's
+view. He glared at it suspiciously.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, William dear," continued his mother, "begin again and no one
+shall interrupt you."</p>
+
+<p>William again went through the preliminaries of coughing and clearing
+his throat.</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">"<i>It was the schooner Hesperus that sailed the wintry seas.</i>"</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>He stopped again, and slowly and carefully straightened his collar and
+smoothed back the lock of hair which was dangling over his brow.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>The skipper had brought</i>&mdash;&mdash;" prompted Aunt Jane, kindly.</p>
+
+<p>William turned on her.</p>
+
+<p>"I was <i>goin'</i> to say that if you'd left me alone," he said. "I was
+jus' thinkin'. I've got to think sometimes. I can't say off a great
+long pome like that without stoppin' to think sometimes, can I?
+I'll&mdash;I'll do a conjuring trick for you instead," he burst out,
+desperately. "I've learnt one from my book. I'll go an' get it ready."</p>
+
+<p>He went out of the room. Mr. Brown took out his handkerchief and
+mopped his brow.</p>
+
+<p>"May I ask," he said patiently, "how long this exhibition is to be
+allowed to continue?"</p>
+
+<p>Here William returned, his pockets bulging. He held a large
+handkerchief in his hand.</p>
+
+<p>"This is a handkerchief," he announced. "If anyone'd like to feel it
+to see if it's a real one, they can. Now I want a shilling," he looked
+round expectantly, but no one moved, "or a penny would do," he said,
+with a slightly disgusted air. Robert threw one across the room.
+"Well, I put the penny into the handkerchief. You can see me do it,
+can't you? If anyone wants to come an' feel the penny is in the
+handkerchief, they can. Well," he turned his back on them and took
+something out of his pocket. After a few contortions he turned round
+again, holding the handkerchief tightly. "Now, you look close,"&mdash;he
+went over to them&mdash;"an' you'll see the shil&mdash;I mean, penny," he looked
+scornfully at Robert, "has changed to an egg. It's a real egg. If
+anyone thinks it isn't a real egg&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>But it <i>was</i> a real egg. It confirmed his statement by giving a
+resounding crack and sending a shining stream partly on to the carpet
+and partly on to Aunt Evangeline's black silk knee. A storm of
+reproaches burst out.</p>
+
+<p>"First that horrible insect," almost wept Aunt Evangeline, "and then
+this messy stuff all over me. It's a good thing I don't live here. One
+day a year is enough.... My nerves!..."</p>
+
+<p>"Dear, dear!" said Aunt Jane.</p>
+
+<p>"Fancy taking a new-laid <i>egg</i> for that," said Ethel severely.</p>
+
+<p>William was pale and indignant.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I did jus' what the book said to do. Look at it. It says: 'Take
+an egg. Conceal it in the pocket.' Well, I took an egg an' I concealed
+it in the pocket. Seems to me," he said bitterly, "seems to me this
+book isn't 'Things a Boy Can Do.' It's 'Things a Boy Can't Do.'"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Brown rose slowly from his chair.</p>
+
+<p>"You're just about right there, my son. Thank <i>you</i>," he said with
+elaborate politeness, as he took the book from William's reluctant
+hands and went over with it to a small cupboard in the wall. In this
+cupboard reposed an airgun, a bugle, a catapult, and a mouth-organ. As
+he unlocked it to put the book inside, the fleeting glimpse of his
+confiscated treasures added to the bitterness of William's soul.</p>
+
+<p>"On Christmas Day, too!"</p>
+
+<p>While he was still afire with silent indignation Aunt Lucy returned
+from church.</p>
+
+<p>"The vicar <i>didn't</i> preach," she said. "They say that this morning's
+sermon was beautiful. As I say, I don't want William to reproach
+himself, but I feel that he has deprived me of a very great treat."</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Nice</i> Willum!" murmured Jimmy sleepily from his corner.</p>
+
+<p>As William undressed that night his gaze fell upon the flower-bedecked
+motto: "A Busy Day is a Happy Day."</p>
+
+<p>"It's a story," he said, indignantly. "It's jus' a wicked ole story."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CH_II" id="CH_II"></a>II</h2>
+
+<h2><span class="smcap">Rice-Mould</span></h2>
+
+
+<p>"Rice-mould," said the little girl next door bitterly. "Rice-mould!
+Rice-mould! every single day. I <i>hate</i> it, don't you?"</p>
+
+<p>She turned gloomy blue eyes upon William, who was perched perilously
+on the ivy-covered wall. William considered thoughtfully.</p>
+
+<p>"Dunno," he said. "I just eat it; I never thought about it."</p>
+
+<p>"It's <i>hateful</i>, just <i>hateful</i>. Ugh! I've had it at dinner and I'll
+have it at supper&mdash;bet you anything. I say, you are going to have a
+party to-night, aren't you?"</p>
+
+<p>William nodded carelessly.</p>
+
+<p>"Are you going to be there?"</p>
+
+<p>"Me!" ejaculated William in a tone of amused surprise. "I should think
+so! You don't think they could have it without <i>me</i>, do you? Huh! Not
+much!"</p>
+
+<p>She gazed at him enviously.</p>
+
+<p>"You <i>are</i> lucky! I expect you'll have a lovely supper&mdash;not rice
+mould," bitterly.</p>
+
+<p>"Rather!" said William with an air of superiority.</p>
+
+<p>"What are you going to have to eat at your party?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh&mdash;everything," said William vaguely.</p>
+
+<p>"Cream blanc-mange?"</p>
+
+<p>"Heaps of it&mdash;<i>buckets</i> of it."</p>
+
+<p>The little girl next door clasped her hands.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, just think of it! Your eating cream blanc-mange and me
+eating&mdash;<i>rice-mould</i>!" (It is impossible to convey in print the
+intense scorn and hatred which the little girl next door could
+compress into the two syllables.)</p>
+
+<p>Here an idea struck William.</p>
+
+<p>"What time do you have supper?"</p>
+
+<p>"Seven."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, now," magnanimously, "if you'll be in your summer-house at
+half-past, I'll bring you some cream blanc-mange. Truly I will!"</p>
+
+<p>The little girl's face beamed with pleasure.</p>
+
+<p>"Will you? Will you <i>really</i>? You won't forget?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not me! I'll be there. I'll slip away from our show on the quiet with
+it."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, how <i>lovely</i>! I'll be thinking of it every minute. Don't forget.
+Good-bye!"</p>
+
+<p>She blew him a kiss and flitted daintily into the house.</p>
+
+<p>William blushed furiously at the blown kiss and descended from his
+precarious perch.</p>
+
+<p>He went to the library where his grown-up sister Ethel and his elder
+brother Robert were standing on ladders at opposite ends of the room,
+engaged in hanging up festoons of ivy and holly across the wall.
+There was to be dancing in the library after supper. William's mother
+watched them from a safe position on the floor.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 293px;">
+<a href="images/fig3.jpg"><img src="images/fig3_t.jpg" width="293" height="400" alt="&quot;IF YOU&#39;LL BE IN YOUR SUMMER-HOUSE AT HALF-PAST, I&#39;LL
+BRING YOU SOME CREAM BLANC-MANGE. TRULY I WILL!&quot; SAID WILLIAM." title="" /></a>
+<span class="caption">&quot;If you&#39;ll be in your summer-house at half-past, i&#39;ll
+bring you some cream blanc-mange. truly i will!&quot; said William.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"Look here, mother," began William. "Am I or am I not coming to the
+party to-night?"</p>
+
+<p>William's mother sighed.</p>
+
+<p>"For goodness' sake, William, don't open that discussion again. For
+the tenth time to-day, you are <i>not</i>!"</p>
+
+<p>"But <i>why</i> not?" he persisted. "I only want to know why not. That's
+all I want to know. It looks a bit funny, doesn't it, to give a party
+and leave out your only son, at least,"&mdash;with a glance at Robert, and a
+slight concession to accuracy&mdash;"to leave out one of your only two
+sons? It looks a bit queer, surely. That's all I'm thinking of&mdash;how it
+will look."</p>
+
+<p>"A bit higher your end," said Ethel.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, that's better," said William's mother.</p>
+
+<p>"It's a <i>young</i> folks' party," went on William, warming to his
+subject. "I heard you tell Aunt Jane it was a <i>young</i> folks' party.
+Well, I'm young, aren't I? I'm eleven. Do you want me any younger? You
+aren't ashamed of folks seeing me, are you! I'm not deformed or
+anything."</p>
+
+<p>"That's right! Put the nail in there, Ethel."</p>
+
+<p>"Just a bit higher. That's right!"</p>
+
+<p>"P'raps you're afraid of what I'll <i>eat</i>," went on William bitterly.
+"Well, everyone eats, don't they? They've got to&mdash;to live. And you've
+got things for us&mdash;them&mdash;to eat to-night. You don't grudge me just a
+bit of supper, do you? You'd think it was less trouble for me to have
+my bit of supper with you all, than in a separate room. That's all I'm
+thinking of&mdash;the trouble&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>William's sister turned round on her ladder and faced the room.</p>
+
+<p>"Can't <i>anyone</i>," she said desperately, "stop that child talking?"</p>
+
+<p>William's brother began to descend his ladder. "I think I can," he
+said grimly.</p>
+
+<p>But William had thrown dignity to the winds, and fled.</p>
+
+<p>He went down the hall to the kitchen, where cook hastily interposed
+herself between him and the table that was laden with cakes and
+jellies and other delicacies.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, Master William," she said sharply, "you clear out of here!"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't want any of your things, cook," said William, magnificently
+but untruthfully. "I only came to see how you were getting on. That's
+all I came for."</p>
+
+<p>"We're getting on very well indeed, thank you, Master William," she
+said with sarcastic politeness, "but nothing for you till to-morrow,
+when we can see how much they've left."</p>
+
+<p>She returned to her task of cutting sandwiches. William, from a
+respectful distance, surveyed the table with its enticing burden.</p>
+
+<p>"Huh!" he ejaculated bitterly, "think of them sitting and stuffing,
+and stuffing, and stuffing away at <i>our</i> food all night! I don't
+suppose they'll leave much&mdash;not if I know the set that lives round
+here!"</p>
+
+<p>"Don't judge them all by yourself, Master William," said cook
+unkindly, keeping a watchful eye upon him. "Here, Emma, put that
+rice-mould away in the pantry. It's for to-morrow's lunch."</p>
+
+<p>Rice-mould! That reminded him.</p>
+
+<p>"Cook," he said ingratiatingly, "are you going to make cream
+blanc-mange?"</p>
+
+<p>"I am <i>not</i>, Master William," she said firmly.</p>
+
+<p>"Well," he said, with a short laugh, "it'll be a queer party without
+cream blanc-mange! I've never heard of a party without cream
+blanc-mange! They'll think it's a bit funny. No one ever gives a party
+round here without cream blanc-mange!"</p>
+
+<p>"Don't they indeed, Master William," said cook, with ironic interest.</p>
+
+<p>"No. You'll be making one, p'raps, later on&mdash;just a little one, won't
+you?"</p>
+
+<p>"And why should I?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I'd like to think they had a cream blanc-mange. I think they'd
+enjoy it. That's all I'm thinking of."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, is it? Well, it's your ma that tells me what to make and pays me
+for it, not you."</p>
+
+<p>This was a novel idea to William.</p>
+
+<p>He thought deeply.</p>
+
+<p>"Look here!" he said at last, "if I gave you,"&mdash;he paused for effect,
+then brought out the startling offer&mdash;"sixpence, would you make a
+cream blanc-mange?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'd want to see your sixpence first," said cook, with a wink at Emma.</p>
+
+<p>William retired upstairs to his bedroom and counted out his
+money&mdash;twopence was all he possessed. He had expended the enormous sum
+of a shilling the day before on a grass snake. It had died in the
+night. He <i>must</i> get a cream blanc-mange somehow. His reputation for
+omnipotence in the eyes of the little girl next door&mdash;a reputation
+very dear to him&mdash;depended on it. And if cook would do it for sixpence,
+he must find sixpence. By fair means or foul it must be done. He'd tried
+fair means, and there only remained foul. He went softly downstairs to
+the dining-room, where, upon the mantel-piece, reposed the missionary-box.
+He'd tell someone next day, or put it back, or something. Anyway, people
+did worse things than that in the pictures. With a knife from the table
+he extracted the contents&mdash;three-halfpence! He glared at it balefully.</p>
+
+<p>"Three-halfpence!" he said aloud in righteous indignation. "This
+supposed to be a Christian house, and three-halfpence is all they can
+give to the poor heathen. They can spend pounds and pounds on"&mdash;he
+glanced round the room and saw a pyramid of pears on the
+sideboard&mdash;"tons of pears an'&mdash;an' green stuff to put on the walls,
+and they give three-halfpence to the poor heathen! Huh!"</p>
+
+<p>He opened the door and heard his sister's voice from the library.
+"He's probably in mischief somewhere. He'll be a perfect nuisance all
+the evening. Mother, couldn't you make him go to bed an hour earlier?"</p>
+
+<p>William had no doubt as to the subject of the conversation. <i>Make him
+go to bed early!</i> He'd like to see them! He'd just like to see them!
+And he'd show them, anyway. Yes, he would show them. Exactly what he
+would show them and how he would show them, he was not as yet very
+clear. He looked round the room again. There were no eatables in it so
+far except the piled-up plate of huge pears on the sideboard.</p>
+
+<p>He looked at it longingly. They'd probably counted them and knew just
+how many there ought to be. Mean sort of thing they would do. And
+they'd be in counting them every other minute just to see if he'd
+taken one. Well, he was going to score off somebody, somehow. Make him
+go to bed early indeed! He stood with knit brows, deep in thought,
+then his face cleared and he smiled. He'd got it! For the next five
+minutes he munched the delicious pears, but, at the end, the piled-up
+pyramid was apparently exactly as he found it, not a pear gone,
+only&mdash;on the inner side of each pear, the side that didn't show, was a
+huge semicircular bite. William wiped his mouth with his coat sleeve.
+They were jolly good pears. And a blissful vision came to him of the
+faces of the guests as they took the pears, of the faces of his
+father and mother and Robert and Ethel. Oh, crumbs! He chuckled to
+himself as he went down to the kitchen again.</p>
+
+<p>"I say, cook, could you make a small one&mdash;quite a small one&mdash;for
+threepence-halfpenny?"</p>
+
+<p>Cook laughed.</p>
+
+<p>"I was only pulling your leg, Master William. I've got one made and
+locked up in the larder."</p>
+
+<p>"That's all right," said William. "I&mdash;wanted them to have a cream
+blanc-mange, that's all."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, <i>they'll</i> have it all right; they won't leave much for you. I
+only made <i>one</i>!"</p>
+
+<p>"Did you say locked in the larder?" said William carelessly. "It must
+be a bother for you to <i>lock</i> the larder door each time you go in?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, no trouble, Master William, thank you," said cook sarcastically;
+"there's more than the cream blanc-mange there; there's pasties and
+cakes and other things. I'm thinking of the last party your ma gave!"</p>
+
+<p>William had the grace to blush. On that occasion William and a friend
+had spent the hour before supper in the larder, and supper had to be
+postponed while fresh provisions were beaten up from any and every
+quarter. William had passed a troubled night and spent the next day in
+bed.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, <i>then</i>! That was a long time ago. I was only a kid then."</p>
+
+<p>"Umph!" grunted cook. Then, relenting, "Well, if there's any cream
+blanc-mange left I'll bring it up to you in bed. Now that's a promise.
+Here, Emma, put these sandwiches in the larder. Here's the key! Now
+mind you <i>lock it</i> after you!"</p>
+
+<p>"Cook! Just come here for a minute."</p>
+
+<p>It was the voice of William's mother from the library. William's heart
+rose. With cook away from the scene of action great things might
+happen. Emma took the dish of sandwiches, unlocked the pantry door,
+and entered. There was a crash of crockery from the back kitchen. Emma
+fled out, leaving the door unlocked. After she had picked up several
+broken plates, which had unaccountably slipped from the shelves, she
+returned and locked the pantry door.</p>
+
+<p>William, in the darkness within, heaved a sigh of relief. He was in,
+anyway; how he was going to get out he wasn't quite sure. He stood for
+a few minutes in rapt admiration of his own cleverness. He'd scored
+off cook! Crumbs! He'd scored off cook! So far, at any rate. The first
+thing to do was to find the cream blanc-mange. He found it at last and
+sat down with it on the bread-pan to consider his next step.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly he became aware of two green eyes staring at him in the
+darkness. The cat was in too! Crumbs! The cat was in too! The cat,
+recognising its inveterate enemy, set up a vindictive wail. William
+grew cold with fright. The rotten old cat was going to give the show
+away!</p>
+
+<p>"Here, Pussy! Good ole Pussy!" he whispered hoarsely. "Nice ole Pussy!
+Good ole Pussy!"</p>
+
+<p>The cat gazed at him in surprise. This form of address from William
+was unusual.</p>
+
+<p>"Good ole Pussy!" went on William feverishly. "Shut up, then. Here's
+some nice blanc-mange. Just have a bit. Go on, have a bit and shut
+up."</p>
+
+<p>He put the dish down on the larder floor before the cat, and the cat,
+after a few preliminary licks, decided that it was good. William sat
+watching for a bit. Then he came to the conclusion that it was no use
+wasting time, and began to sample the plates around him. He ate a
+whole jelly, and then took four sandwiches off each plate, and four
+cakes and pasties off each plate. He had learnt wisdom since the last
+party. Meanwhile, the cat licked away at the cream blanc-mange with
+every evidence of satisfaction. It even began to purr, and as its
+satisfaction increased so did the purr. It possessed a peculiar
+penetrating purr.</p>
+
+<p>"Cook!" called out Emma from the kitchen.</p>
+
+<p>Cook came out of the library where she was assisting with the festoon
+hanging. "What's the matter?"</p>
+
+<p>"There's a funny buzzing noise in the larder."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, go in and see what it is. It's probably a wasp, that's all."</p>
+
+<p>Emma approached with the key, and William, clasping the blanc-mange to
+his bosom, withdrew behind the door, slipping off his shoes in
+readiness for action.</p>
+
+<p>"Poor Puss!" said Emma, opening the door and meeting the cat's green,
+unabashed gaze. "Did it get shut up in the nasty dark larder, then?
+Who did it, then?"</p>
+
+<p>She was bending down with her back to William, stroking the cat in the
+doorway. William seized his chance. He dashed past her and up the
+stairs in stockinged feet like a flash of lightning. But Emma, leaning
+over the cat, had espied a dark flying figure out of the corner of her
+eye. She set up a scream. Out of the library came William's mother,
+William's sister, William's brother, and cook.</p>
+
+<p>"A burglar in the larder!" gasped Emma. "I seed 'im, I did! Out of the
+corner of my eye, like, and when I looked up 'e wasn't there no more.
+Flittin' up the 'all like a shadder, 'e was. Oh, lor! It's fairly
+turned me inside! Oh, lor!"</p>
+
+<p>"What rubbish!" said William's mother. "Emma, you must control
+yourself!"</p>
+
+<p>"I went into the larder myself 'm," said cook indignantly, "just
+before I came in to 'elp with the greenery ornaments, and it was
+hempty as&mdash;hair. It's all that silly Emma! Always 'avin' the jumps,
+she is&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Where's William?" said William's mother with sudden suspicion.
+"William!"</p>
+
+<p>William came out of his bedroom and looked over the balusters.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, mother," he said, with that wondering innocence of voice and
+look which he had brought to a fine art, and which proved one of his
+greatest assets in times of stress and strain.</p>
+
+<p>"What are you doing?"</p>
+
+<p>"Jus' readin' quietly in my room, mother."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, for heaven's sake don't disturb him, then," said William's
+sister.</p>
+
+<p>"It's those silly books you read, Emma. You're always imagining
+things. If you'd read the ones I recommend, instead of the foolish
+ones you will get hold of&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>William's mother was safely mounted on one of her favourite
+hobby-horses. William withdrew to his room and carefully concealed the
+cream blanc-mange beneath his bed. He then waited till he heard the
+guests arrive and exchange greetings in the hall. William, listening
+with his door open, carefully committed to memory the voice and manner
+of his sister's greeting to her friends. That would come in useful
+later on, probably. No weapon of offence against the world in general
+and his own family in particular, was to be despised. He held a
+rehearsal in his room when the guests were all safely assembled in the
+drawing-room.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, <i>how</i> are you, Mrs. Green?" he said in a high falsetto, meant to
+represent the feminine voice. "And how's the <i>darling</i> baby? <i>Such</i> a
+duck! I'm dying to see him again! Oh, Delia, darling! There you are!
+<i>So</i> glad you could come! What a perfect darling of a dress, my dear.
+I know whose heart you'll break in that! Oh, Mr. Thompson!"&mdash;here
+William languished, bridled and ogled in a fashion seen nowhere on
+earth except in his imitations of his sister when engaged in
+conversation with one of the male sex. If reproduced at the right
+moment, it was guaranteed to drive her to frenzy, "I'm <i>so</i> glad to
+see you. Yes, of course I really am! I wouldn't say it if I wasn't!"</p>
+
+<p>The drawing-room door opened and a chatter of conversation and a
+rustling of dresses arose from the hall. Oh, crumbs! They were going
+in to supper. Yes, the dining-room door closed; the coast was clear.
+William took out the rather battered-looking delicacy from under the
+bed and considered it thoughtfully. The dish was big and awkwardly
+shaped. He must find something that would go under his coat better
+than that. He couldn't march through the hall and out of the front
+door, bearing a cream blanc-mange, naked and unashamed. And the back
+door through the kitchen was impossible. With infinite care but little
+success as far as the shape of the blanc-mange was concerned, he
+removed it from its dish on to his soap-dish. He forgot, in the
+excitement of the moment, to remove the soap, but, after all, it was
+only a small piece. The soap-dish was decidedly too small for it, but,
+clasped to William's bosom inside his coat, it could be partly
+supported by his arm outside. He descended the stairs cautiously. He
+tip-toed lightly past the dining-room door (which was slightly ajar),
+from which came the shrill, noisy, meaningless, conversation of the
+grown-ups. He was just about to open the front door when there came
+the sound of a key turning in the lock.</p>
+
+<p>William's heart sank. He had forgotten the fact that his father
+generally returned from his office about this time.</p>
+
+<p>William's father came into the hall and glanced at his youngest
+offspring suspiciously.</p>
+
+<p>"Hello!" he said, "where are you going?"</p>
+
+<p>William cleared his throat nervously.</p>
+
+<p>"Me?" he questioned lightly. "Oh, I was jus'&mdash;jus' goin' a little walk
+up the road before I went to bed. That's all I was goin' to do,
+father."</p>
+
+<p>Flop! A large segment of the cream blanc-mange had disintegrated
+itself from the fast-melting mass, and, evading William's encircling
+arm, had fallen on to the floor at his feet. With praiseworthy
+presence of mind William promptly stepped on to it and covered it with
+his feet. William's father turned round quickly from the stand where
+he was replacing his walking stick.</p>
+
+<p>"What was that?"</p>
+
+<p>William looked round the hall absently. "What, father?"</p>
+
+<p>William's father now fastened his eyes upon William's person.</p>
+
+<p>"What have you got under your coat?"</p>
+
+<p>"Where?" said William with apparent surprise.</p>
+
+<p>Then, looking down at the damp excrescence of his coat, as if he
+noticed it for the first time, "Oh, that!" with a mirthless smile. "Do
+you mean <i>that</i>? Oh, that's jus'&mdash;jus' somethin' I'm takin' out with
+me, that's all."</p>
+
+<p>Again William's father grunted.</p>
+
+<p>"Well," he said, "if you're going for this walk up the road why on
+earth don't you go, instead of standing as if you'd lost the use of
+your feet?"</p>
+
+<p>William's father was hanging up his overcoat with his back to William,
+and the front door was open. William wanted no second bidding. He
+darted out of the door and down the drive, but he was just in time to
+hear the thud of a falling body, and to hear a muttered curse as the
+Head of the House entered the dining-room feet first on a long slide
+of some white, glutinous substance.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, crumbs!" gasped William as he ran.</p>
+
+<p>The little girl next door was sitting in the summer-house, armed with
+a spoon, when William arrived. His precious burden had now saturated
+his shirt and was striking cold and damp on his chest. He drew it from
+his coat and displayed it proudly. It had certainly lost its pristine,
+white, rounded appearance. The marks of the cat's licks were very
+evident; grime from William's coat adhered to its surface; it wobbled
+limply over the soap dish, but the little girl's eyes sparkled as she
+saw it.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, William, I never thought you really would! Oh, you are wonderful!
+And I <i>had</i> it!"</p>
+
+<p>"What?"</p>
+
+<p>"Rice-mould for supper, but I didn't mind, because I thought&mdash;I hoped,
+you'd come with it. Oh, William, you <i>are a nice</i> boy!"</p>
+
+<p>William glowed with pride.</p>
+
+<p>"William!" bellowed an irate voice from William's front door.</p>
+
+<p>William knew that voice. It was the voice of the male parent who has
+stood all he's jolly well going to stand from that kid, and is out for
+vengeance. They'd got to the pears! Oh, crumbs! They'd got to the
+pears! And even the thought of Nemesis to come could not dull for
+William the bliss of that vision.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 389px;">
+<a href="images/fig4.jpg"><img src="images/fig4_t.jpg" width="389" height="400" alt="William leant back in a superior, benevolent manner and
+watched the smile freeze upon her face and her look of ecstasy change
+to one of fury." title="William leant back in a superior, benevolent manner and watched the smile freeze upon
+her face and her look of ecstasy change to one of fury." /></a>
+<span class="caption">William leant back in a superior, benevolent manner and
+watched the smile freeze upon her face and her look of ecstasy change
+to one of fury.</span>
+<br /></div>
+
+<p>"Oh, William," said the little girl next door sadly, "they're calling
+you. Will you have to go?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not me," said William earnestly. "I'm not going&mdash;not till they fetch
+me. Here! you begin. I don't want any. I've had lots of things. You
+eat it all."</p>
+
+<p>Her face radiant with anticipation, the little girl took up her spoon.</p>
+
+<p>William leant back in a superior, benevolent manner and watched the
+smile freeze upon her face and her look of ecstasy change to one of
+fury. With a horrible suspicion at his heart he seized the spoon she
+had dropped and took a mouthful himself.</p>
+
+<p><i>He had brought the rice-mould by mistake!</i></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CH_III" id="CH_III"></a>III</h2>
+
+<h2><span class="smcap">William's Burglar</span></h2>
+
+
+<p>When William first saw him he was leaning against the wall of the
+White Lion, gazing at the passers-by with a moody smile upon his
+villainous-looking countenance.</p>
+
+<p>It was evident to any careful observer that he had not confined his
+attentions to the exterior of the White Lion.</p>
+
+<p>William, at whose heels trotted his beloved mongrel (rightly named
+Jumble), was passing him with a casual glance, when something
+attracted his attention. He stopped and looked back, then, turning
+round, stood in front of the tall, untidy figure, gazing up at him
+with frank and unabashed curiosity.</p>
+
+<p>"Who cut 'em off?" he said at last in an awed whisper.</p>
+
+<p>The figure raised his hands and stroked the long hair down the side of
+his face.</p>
+
+<p>"Now yer arskin'," he said with a grin.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, who <i>did</i>?" persisted William.</p>
+
+<p>"That 'ud be tellin'," answered his new friend, moving unsteadily
+from one foot to the other. "See?"</p>
+
+<p>"You got 'em cut off in the war," said William firmly.</p>
+
+<p>"I didn't. I bin in the wor orl right. Stroike me pink, I bin in the
+wor and <i>that's</i> the truth. But I didn't get 'em cut orf in the wor.
+Well, I'll stop kiddin' yer. I'll tell yer strite. I never 'ad none.
+<i>Nar!</i>"</p>
+
+<p>William stood on tiptoe to peer under the untidy hair at the small
+apertures that in his strange new friend took the place of ears.
+Admiration shone in William's eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Was you <i>born</i> without 'em?" he said enviously.</p>
+
+<p>His friend nodded.</p>
+
+<p>"Nar don't yer go torkin' about it," he went on modestly, though
+seeming to bask in the sun of William's evident awe and respect. "I
+don't want all folks knowin' 'bout it. See? It kinder <i>marks</i> a man,
+this 'ere sort of thing. See? Makes 'im too easy to <i>track</i>, loike.
+That's why I grow me hair long. See? 'Ere, 'ave a drink?"</p>
+
+<p>He put his head inside the window of the White Lion and roared out
+"Bottle o' lemonide fer the young gent."</p>
+
+<p>William followed him to a small table in the little sunny porch, and
+his heart swelled with pride as he sat and quaffed his beverage with a
+manly air. His friend, who said his name was Mr. Blank, showed a most
+flattering interest in him. He elicited from him the whereabouts of
+his house and the number of his family, a description of the door and
+window fastenings, of the dining-room silver and his mother's
+jewellery.</p>
+
+<p>William, his eyes fixed with a fascinated stare upon Mr. Blank's ears,
+gave the required information readily, glad to be able in any way to
+interest this intriguing and mysterious being.</p>
+
+<p>"Tell me about the war," said William at last.</p>
+
+<p>"It were orl right while it larsted," said Mr. Blank with a sigh. "It
+were orl right, but I s'pose, like mos' things in this 'ere world, it
+couldn't larst fer ever. See?"</p>
+
+<p>William set down the empty glass of lemonade and leant across the
+table, almost dizzy with the romance of the moment. Had Douglas, had
+Henry, had Ginger, had any of those boys who sat next him at school
+and joined in the feeble relaxations provided by the authorities out
+of school, ever done <i>this</i>&mdash;ever sat at a real table outside a real
+public-house drinking lemonade and talking to a man with no ears who'd
+fought in the war and who looked as if he might have done <i>anything</i>?</p>
+
+<p>Jumble, meanwhile, sat and snapped at flies, frankly bored.</p>
+
+<p>"Did you"&mdash;said William in a sibilant whisper&mdash;"did you ever <i>kill</i>
+anyone?"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Blank laughed a laugh that made William's blood curdle.</p>
+
+<p>"Me kill anyone? Me kill anyone? <i>'Ondreds!</i>"</p>
+
+<p>William breathed a sigh of satisfaction. Here was romance and
+adventure incarnate.</p>
+
+<p>"What do you do now the war's over?"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Blank closed one eye.</p>
+
+<p>"That 'ud be tellin', wudn't it?"</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
+<a href="images/fig5.jpg"><img src="images/fig5_t.jpg" width="400" height="377" alt="&quot;Did you&quot;&mdash;said William in a sibilant whisper&mdash;&quot;Did you
+ever kill anyone?&quot;" title="&quot;Did you&quot;&mdash;said William in a sibilant whisper&mdash;&quot;" /></a>
+<span class="caption">&quot;Did you&quot;&mdash;said William in a sibilant whisper&mdash;&quot;Did you
+ever kill anyone?&quot;</span>
+<br /></div>
+
+<p>"I'll keep it awfully secret," pleaded William. "I'll never tell
+anyone."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Blank shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>"What yer want ter know fer, anyway?" he said.</p>
+
+<p>William answered eagerly, his eyes alight.</p>
+
+<p>"'Cause I'd like to do jus' the same when I grow up."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Blank flung back his head and emitted guffaw after guffaw of
+unaffected mirth.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh 'ell," he said, wiping his eyes. "Oh, stroike me pink! That's
+good, that is. You wait, young gent, you wait till you've growed up
+and see what yer pa says to it. Oh 'ell!"</p>
+
+<p>He rose and pulled his cap down over his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I'll say good day to yer, young gent."</p>
+
+<p>William looked at him wistfully.</p>
+
+<p>"I'd like to see you again, Mr. Blank, I would, honest. Will you be
+here this afternoon?"</p>
+
+<p>"Wot d'yer want to see me agine fer?" said Mr. Blank suspiciously.</p>
+
+<p>"I <i>like</i> you," said William fervently. "I like the way you talk, and
+I like the things you say, and I want to know about what you do!"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Blank was obviously flattered.</p>
+
+<p>"I may be round 'ere agine this arter, though I mike no promise. See?
+I've gotter be careful, I 'ave. I've gotter be careful 'oo sees me an'
+'oo 'ears me, and where I go. That's the worst of 'aving no ears.
+See?"</p>
+
+<p>William did not see, but he was thrilled to the soul by the mystery.</p>
+
+<p>"An' you don't tell no one you seen me nor nothing abart me," went on
+Mr. Blank.</p>
+
+<p>Pulling his cap still farther over his head, Mr. Blank set off
+unsteadily down the road, leaving William to pay for his lemonade
+with his last penny.</p>
+
+<p>He walked home, his heart set firmly on a lawless career of crime.
+Opposition he expected from his father and mother and Robert and
+Ethel, but his determination was fixed. He wondered if it would be
+very painful to have his ears cut off.</p>
+
+<p>He entered the dining-room with an air of intense mystery, pulling his
+cap over his eyes, and looking round in a threatening manner.</p>
+
+<p>"William, what <i>do</i> you mean by coming into the house in your cap?
+Take it off at once."</p>
+
+<p>William sighed. He wondered if Mr. Blank had a mother.</p>
+
+<p>When he returned he sat down and began quietly to remodel his life. He
+would not be an explorer, after all, nor an engine-driver nor
+chimney-sweep. He would be a man of mystery, a murderer, fighter,
+forger. He fingered his ears tentatively. They seemed fixed on jolly
+fast. He glanced with utter contempt at his father who had just come
+in. His father's life of blameless respectability seemed to him at
+that minute utterly despicable.</p>
+
+<p>"The Wilkinsons over at Todfoot have had their house broken into now,"
+Mrs. Brown was saying. "<i>All</i> her jewellery gone. They think it's a
+gang. It's just the villages round here. There seems to be one every
+day!"</p>
+
+<p>William expressed his surprise.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, 'ell!" he ejaculated, with a slightly self-conscious air.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Brown turned round and looked at his son.</p>
+
+<p>"May I ask," he said politely, "where you picked up that expression?"</p>
+
+<p>"I got it off one of my fren's," said William with quiet pride.</p>
+
+<p>"Then I'd take it as a personal favour," went on Mr. Brown, "if you'd
+kindly refrain from airing your friends' vocabularies in this house."</p>
+
+<p>"He means you're never to say it again, William," translated Mrs.
+Brown sternly. "<i>Never.</i>"</p>
+
+<p>"All right," said William. "I won't. See? I da&mdash;jolly well won't.
+Strike me pink. See?"</p>
+
+<p>He departed with an air of scowling mystery and dignity combined,
+leaving his parents speechless with amazement.</p>
+
+<p>That afternoon he returned to the White Lion. Mr. Blank was standing
+unobtrusively in the shadow of the wall.</p>
+
+<p>"'Ello, young gent," he greeted William, "nice dorg you've got."</p>
+
+<p>William looked proudly down at Jumble.</p>
+
+<p>"You won't find," he said proudly and with some truth, "you won't find
+another dog like this&mdash;not for <i>miles</i>!"</p>
+
+<p>"Will 'e be much good as a watch dog, now?" asked Mr. Blank
+carelessly.</p>
+
+<p>"Good?" said William, almost indignant at the question. "There isn't
+any sort of dog he isn't good at!"</p>
+
+<p>"Umph," said Mr. Blank, looking at him thoughtfully.</p>
+
+<p>"Tell me about things you've <i>done</i>," said William earnestly.</p>
+
+<p>"Yus, I will, too," said Mr. Blank. "But jus' you tell me first 'oo
+lives at all these 'ere nice 'ouses an' all about 'em. See?"</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 362px;">
+<a href="images/fig6.jpg"><img src="images/fig6_t.jpg" width="362" height="400" alt="William departed with an air of scowling mystery,
+leaving his parents speechless with amazement." title="William departed with an air of scowling mystery, leaving his parents speechless with amazement." /></a>
+<span class="caption">William departed with an air of scowling mystery,
+leaving his parents speechless with amazement.</span>
+<br /></div>
+
+<p>William readily complied, and the strange couple gradually wended
+their way along the road towards William's house. William stopped at
+the gate and considered deeply. He was torn between instincts of
+hospitality and a dim suspicion that his family would not afford to
+Mr. Blank that courtesy which is a guest's due. He looked at Mr.
+Blank's old green-black cap, long, untidy hair, dirty, lined, sly old
+face, muddy clothes and gaping boots, and decided quite finally that
+his mother would not allow him in her drawing-room.</p>
+
+<p>"Will you," he said tentatively, "will you come roun' an' see our back
+garden? If we go behind these ole bushes and keep close along the
+wall, no one'll see us."</p>
+
+<p>To William's relief Mr. Blank did not seem to resent the suggestion of
+secrecy. They crept along the wall in silence except for Jumble, who
+loudly worried Mr. Blank's trailing boot-strings as he walked. They
+reached a part of the back garden that was not visible from the house
+and sat down together under a shady tree.</p>
+
+<p>"P'raps," began Mr. Blank politely, "you could bring a bit o' tea out
+to me on the quiet like."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll ask mother&mdash;&mdash;" began William.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, no," said Mr. Blank modestly. "I don't want ter give no one no
+trouble. Just a slice o' bread, if you can find it, without troublin'
+no one. See?"</p>
+
+<p>William had a brilliant idea.</p>
+
+<p>"Let's go 'cross to that window an' get in," he said eagerly. "That's
+the lib'ry and no one uses it 'cept father, and he's not in till
+later."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Blank insisted on tying Jumble up, then he swung himself
+dexterously through the window. William gave a gasp of admiration.</p>
+
+<p>"You did that fine," he said.</p>
+
+<p>Again Mr. Blank closed one eye.</p>
+
+<p>"Not the first time I've got in at a winder, young gent, nor the
+larst, I bet. Not by a long way. See?"</p>
+
+<p>William followed more slowly. His eye gleamed with pride. This hero of
+romance and adventure was now his guest, under his roof.</p>
+
+<p>"Make yourself quite at home, Mr. Blank," he said with an air of
+intense politeness.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Blank did. He emptied Mr. Brown's cigar-box into his pocket. He
+drank three glasses of Mr. Brown's whiskey and soda. While William's
+back was turned he filled his pockets with the silver ornaments from
+the mantel-piece. He began to inspect the drawers in Mr. Brown's desk.
+Then:</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 320px;">
+<a href="images/fig7.jpg"><img src="images/fig7_t.jpg" width="320"
+height="400" alt="Mr. Blank made himself quite at home."
+title="Mr. Blank made himself quite at home." /></a>
+<span class="caption">Mr. Blank made himself quite at home.</span>
+<br /></div>
+
+<p>"William! Come to tea!"</p>
+
+<p>"You stay here," whispered William. "I'll bring you some."</p>
+
+<p>But luck was against him. It was a visitors' tea in the drawing-room,
+and Mrs. de Vere Carter, a neighbour, there, in all her glory. She
+rose from her seat with an ecstatic murmur.</p>
+
+<p>"Willie! <i>Dear</i> child! <i>Sweet</i> little soul!"</p>
+
+<p>With one arm she crushed the infuriated William against her belt, with
+the other she caressed his hair. Then William in moody silence sat
+down in a corner and began to eat bread and butter. Every time he
+prepared to slip a piece into his pocket, he found his mother's or
+Mrs. de Vere Carter's eye fixed upon him and hastily began to eat it
+himself. He sat, miserable and hot, seeing only the heroic figure
+starving in the next room, and planned a raid on the larder as soon as
+he could reasonably depart. Every now and then he scowled across at
+Mrs. de Vere Carter and made a movement with his hands as though
+pulling a cap over his eyes. He invested even his eating with an air
+of dark mystery.</p>
+
+<p>Then Robert, his elder brother, came in, followed by a thin, pale man
+with eye-glasses and long hair.</p>
+
+<p>"This is Mr. Lewes, mother," said Robert with an air of pride and
+triumph. "He's editor of <i>Fiddle Strings</i>."</p>
+
+<p>There was an immediate stir and sensation. Robert had often talked of
+his famous friend. In fact Robert's family was weary of the sound of
+his name, but this was the first time Robert had induced him to leave
+the haunts of his genius to visit the Brown household.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Lewes bowed with a set, stern, self-conscious expression, as
+though to convey to all that his celebrity was more of a weight than a
+pleasure to him. Mrs. de Vere Carter bridled and fluttered, for
+<i>Fiddle Strings</i> had a society column and a page of scrappy "News of
+the Town," and Mrs. de Vere Carter's greatest ambition was to see her
+name in print.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Lewes sat back in his chair, took his tea-cup as though it were a
+fresh addition to his responsibilities, and began to talk. He talked
+apparently without even breathing. He began on the weather, drifted on
+to art and music, and was just beginning a monologue on The Novel,
+when William rose and crept from the room like a guilty spirit. He
+found Mr. Blank under the library table, having heard a noise in the
+kitchen and fearing a visitor. A cigar and a silver snuffer had
+fallen from his pocket to the floor. He hastily replaced them. William
+went up and took another look at the wonderful ears and heaved a sigh
+of relief. While parted from his strange friend he had had a horrible
+suspicion that the whole thing was a dream.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll go to the larder and get you sumthin'," he said. "You jus' stay
+here."</p>
+
+<p>"I think, young gent," said Mr. Blank, "I think I'll just go an' look
+round upstairs on the quiet like, an' you needn't mention it to no
+one. See?"</p>
+
+<p>Again he performed the fascinating wink.</p>
+
+<p>They crept on tiptoe into the hall, but&mdash;the drawing-room door was
+ajar.</p>
+
+<p>"William!"</p>
+
+<p>William's heart stood still. He could hear his mother coming across
+the room, then&mdash;she stood in the doorway. Her face filled with horror
+as her eye fell upon Mr. Blank.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>William!</i>" she said.</p>
+
+<p>William's feelings were beyond description. Desperately he sought for
+an explanation for his friend's presence. With what pride and
+<i>sang-froid</i> had Robert announced his uninvited guest! William
+determined to try it, at any rate. He advanced boldly into the
+drawing-room.</p>
+
+<p>"This is Mr. Blank, mother," he announced jauntily. "He hasn't got no
+ears."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Blank stood in the background, awaiting developments. Flight was
+now impossible.</p>
+
+<p>The announcement fell flat. There was nothing but horror upon the five
+silent faces that confronted William. He made a last desperate effort.</p>
+
+<p>"He's bin in the war," he pleaded. "He's&mdash;killed folks."</p>
+
+<p>Then the unexpected happened.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. de Vere Carter rose with a smile of welcome. In her mind's eye
+she saw the touching story already in print&mdash;the tattered hero&mdash;the
+gracious lady&mdash;the age of Democracy. The stage was laid and that dark,
+pale young man had only to watch and listen.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, one of our dear heroes! My poor, brave man! A cup of tea, my
+dear," turning to William's thunderstruck mother. "And he may sit
+down, may he not?" She kept her face well turned towards the
+sardonic-looking Mr. Lewes. He must not miss a word or gesture. "How
+<i>proud</i> we are to do anything for our dear heroes! Wounded, perhaps?
+Ah, poor man!" She floated across to him with a cup of tea and plied
+him with bread and butter and cake. William sat down meekly on a
+chair, looking rather pale. Mr. Blank, whose philosophy was to take
+the goods the gods gave and not look to the future, began to make a
+hearty meal. "Are you looking for work, my poor man?" asked Mrs. de
+Vere Carter, leaning forward in her chair.</p>
+
+<p>Her poor man replied with simple, manly directness that he "was dam'd
+if he was. See?" Mr. Lewes began to discuss The Drama with Robert.
+Mrs. de Vere Carter raised her voice.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>How</i> you must have suffered! Yes, there is suffering ingrained in
+your face. A piece of shrapnel? Ten inches square? Right in at one hip
+and out at the other? Oh, my poor man! <i>How</i> I feel for you. How all
+class distinctions vanish at such a time. How&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 396px;">
+<a href="images/fig8.jpg"><img src="images/fig8_t.jpg" width="396" height="400" alt="&quot;Are you looking for work, my poor man?&quot; asked Mrs. de
+Vere Carter." title="&quot;Are you looking for work, my poor man?&quot; asked Mrs. de Vere Carter" /></a>
+<span class="caption">&quot;Are you looking for work, my poor man?&quot; asked Mrs. de
+Vere Carter.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>She stopped while Mr. Blank drank his tea. In fact, all conversation
+ceased while Mr. Blank drank his tea, just as conversation on a
+station ceases while a train passes through.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Brown looked helplessly around her. When Mr. Blank had eaten a
+plate of sandwiches, a plate of bread and butter, and half a cake, he
+rose slowly, keeping one hand over the pocket in which reposed the
+silver ornaments.</p>
+
+<p>"Well 'm," he said, touching his cap. "Thank you kindly. I've 'ad a
+fine tea. I 'ave. A dam' fine tea. An' I'll not forget yer kindness to
+a pore ole soldier." Here he winked brazenly at William. "An' good day
+ter you orl."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. de Vere Carter floated out to the front door with him, and
+William followed as in a dream.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Brown found her voice.</p>
+
+<p>"We'd better have the chair disinfected," she murmured to Ethel.</p>
+
+<p>Then Mrs. de Vere Carter returned smiling to herself and eyeing the
+young editor surmisingly.</p>
+
+<p>"I witnessed a pretty scene the other day in a suburban
+drawing-room...." It might begin like that.</p>
+
+<p>William followed the amazing figure round the house again to the
+library window. Here it turned to him with a friendly grin.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm just goin' to 'ave that look round upstairs now. See?" he said.
+"An' once more, yer don't need ter say nothin' to no one. See?"</p>
+
+<p>With the familiar, beloved gesture he drew his old cap down over his
+eyes, and was gone.</p>
+
+<p>William wandered upstairs a few minutes later to find his visitor
+standing at the landing window, his pockets bulging.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm goin' to try this 'ere window, young gent," he said in a quick,
+business-like voice. "I see yer pa coming in at the front gate. Give
+me a shove. Quick, nar."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Brown entered the drawing-room.</p>
+
+<p>"Mulroyd's had his house burgled now," he said. "Every bit of his
+wife's jewellery gone. They've got some clues, though. It's a gang all
+right, and one of them is a chap without ears. Grows his hair long to
+hide it. But it's a clue. The police are hunting for him."</p>
+
+<p>He looked in amazement at the horror-stricken faces before him. Mrs.
+Brown sat down weakly.</p>
+
+<p>"Ethel, my smelling salts! They're on the mantel-piece."</p>
+
+<p>Robert grew pale.</p>
+
+<p>"Good Lord&mdash;my silver cricket cup," he gasped, racing upstairs.</p>
+
+<p>The landing window had been too small, and Mr. Blank too big, though
+William did his best.</p>
+
+<p>There came to the astounded listeners the sound of a fierce scuffle,
+then Robert descended, his hair rumpled and his tie awry, holding
+William by the arm. William looked pale and apprehensive. "He was
+there," panted Robert, "just getting out of the window. He chucked the
+things out of his pockets and got away. I couldn't stop him. And&mdash;and
+William was there&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>William's face assumed the expression of one who is prepared for the
+worst.</p>
+
+<p>"The plucky little chap! Struggling with him! Trying to pull him back
+from the window! All by himself!"</p>
+
+<p>"I <i>wasn't</i>," cried William excitedly. "I was <i>helping</i> him. He's <i>my
+friend</i>. I&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>But they heard not a word. They crowded round him, praised him, shook
+hands with him, asked if he was hurt. Mrs. de Vere Carter kept up one
+perpetual scream of delight and congratulation.</p>
+
+<p>"The <i>dear</i> boy! The little <i>pet</i>! How <i>brave</i>! What <i>courage</i>! What
+an <i>example</i> to us all! And the horrid, wretched man! Posing as a
+<i>hero</i>. Wangling himself into the sweet child's confidence. Are you
+hurt, my precious? Did the nasty man hurt you? You <i>darling</i> boy!"</p>
+
+<p>When the babel had somewhat subsided, Mr. Brown came forward and laid
+a hand on William's shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm very pleased with you, my boy," he said. "You can buy anything
+you like to-morrow up to five shillings."</p>
+
+<p>William's bewildered countenance cleared.</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you, father," he said meekly.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CH_IV" id="CH_IV"></a>IV</h2>
+
+<h2><span class="smcap">The Knight At Arms</span></h2>
+
+
+<p>"A knight," said Miss Drew, who was struggling to inspire her class
+with enthusiasm for Tennyson's "Idylls of the King," "a knight was a
+person who spent his time going round succouring the oppressed."</p>
+
+<p>"Suckin' wot?" said William, bewildered.</p>
+
+<p>"Succour means to help. He spent his time helping anyone who was in
+trouble."</p>
+
+<p>"How much did he get for it?" asked William.</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing, of course," said Miss Drew, appalled by the base
+commercialism of the twentieth century. "He helped the poor because he
+<i>loved</i> them, William. He had a lot of adventures and fighting and he
+helped beautiful, persecuted damsels."</p>
+
+<p>William's respect for the knight rose.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course," said Miss Drew hastily, "they needn't necessarily be
+beautiful, but, in most of the stories we have, they were beautiful."</p>
+
+<p>Followed some stories of fighting and adventure and the rescuing of
+beautiful damsels. The idea of the thing began to take hold of
+William's imagination.</p>
+
+<p>"I say," he said to his chum Ginger after school, "that knight thing
+sounds all right. Suckin'&mdash;I mean helpin' people an' fightin' an' all
+that. I wun't mind doin' it an' you could be my squire."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Ginger slowly, "I'd thought of doin' it, but I'd thought
+of <i>you</i> bein' the squire."</p>
+
+<p>"Well," said William after a pause, "let's be squires in turn. You
+first," he added hastily.</p>
+
+<p>"Wot'll you give me if I'm first?" said Ginger, displaying again the
+base commercialism of his age.</p>
+
+<p>William considered.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll give you first drink out of a bottle of ginger-ale wot I'm goin'
+to get with my next money. It'll be three weeks off 'cause they're
+takin' the next two weeks to pay for an ole window wot my ball slipped
+into by mistake."</p>
+
+<p>He spoke with the bitterness that always characterised his statements
+of the injustice of the grown-up world.</p>
+
+<p>"All right," said Ginger.</p>
+
+<p>"I won't forget about the drink of ginger-ale."</p>
+
+<p>"No, you won't," said Ginger simply. "I'll remind you all right. Well,
+let's set off."</p>
+
+<p>"'Course," said William, "it would be <i>nicer</i> with armour an' horses
+an' trumpets, but I 'spect folks ud think anyone a bit soft wot went
+about in the streets in armour now, 'cause these times is different.
+She said so. Anyway she said we could still be knights an' help
+people, di'n't she? Anyway, I'll get my bugle. That'll be
+<i>something</i>."</p>
+
+<p>William's bugle had just returned to public life after one of its
+periodic terms of retirement into his father's keeping.</p>
+
+<p>William took his bugle proudly in one hand and his pistol (the
+glorious result of a dip in the bran tub at a school party) in the
+other, and, sternly denying themselves the pleasures of afternoon
+school, off the two set upon the road of romance and adventure.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll carry the bugle," said Ginger, "'cause I'm squire."</p>
+
+<p>William was loth to give up his treasure.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I'll carry it now," he said, "but when I begin' fightin' folks,
+I'll give it you to hold."</p>
+
+<p>They walked along for about a mile without meeting anyone. William
+began to be aware of a sinking feeling in the region of his waist.</p>
+
+<p>"I wonder wot they <i>eat</i>," he said at last. "I'm gettin' so's I
+wouldn't mind sumthin' to eat."</p>
+
+<p>"We di'n't ought to have set off before dinner," said the squire with
+after-the-event wisdom. "We ought to have waited till <i>after</i> dinner."</p>
+
+<p>"You ought to have <i>brought</i> sumthin'," said William severely. "You're
+the squire. You're not much of a squire not to have brought sumthin'
+for me to eat."</p>
+
+<p>"An' me," put in Ginger. "If I'd brought any I'd have brought it for
+me more'n for you."</p>
+
+<p>William fingered his minute pistol.</p>
+
+<p>"If we meet any wild animals ..." he said darkly.</p>
+
+<p>A cow gazed at them mournfully over a hedge.</p>
+
+<p>"You might go an' milk that," suggested William. "Milk 'ud be better'n
+nothing."</p>
+
+<p>"<i>You</i> go 'an milk it."</p>
+
+<p>"No, I'm not squire. I bet squires did the milkin'. Knights wu'n't of
+done the milkin'."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll remember," said Ginger bitterly, "when you're squire, all the
+things wot you said a squire ought to do when I was squire."</p>
+
+<p>They entered the field and gazed at the cow from a respectful
+distance. She turned her eyes upon them sadly.</p>
+
+<p>"Go on!" said the knight to his reluctant squire.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not good at cows," objected that gentleman.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I will, then!" said William with reckless bravado, and advanced
+boldly upon the animal. The animal very slightly lowered its horns
+(perhaps in sign of greeting) and emitted a sonorous mo-o-o-o-o. Like
+lightning the gallant pair made for the road.</p>
+
+<p>"Anyway," said William gloomily, "we'd got nothin' to put it in, so
+we'd only of got tossed for nothin', p'raps, if we'd gone on."</p>
+
+<p>They walked on down the road till they came to a pair of iron gates
+and a drive that led up to a big house. William's spirits rose. His
+hunger was forgotten.</p>
+
+<p>"Come on!" he said. "We might find someone to rescue here. It looks
+like a place where there might be someone to rescue."</p>
+
+<p>There was no one in the garden to question the right of entry of two
+small boys armed with a bugle and a toy pistol. Unchallenged they
+went up to the house. While the knight was wondering whether to blow
+his bugle at the front door or by the open window, they caught sight
+suddenly of a vision inside the window. It was a girl as fair and slim
+and beautiful as any wandering knight could desire. And she was
+speaking fast and passionately.</p>
+
+<p>William, ready for all contingencies, marshalled his forces.</p>
+
+<p>"Follow me!" he whispered and crept on all fours nearer the window.
+They could see a man now, an elderly man with white hair and a white
+beard.</p>
+
+<p>"And how long will you keep me in this vile prison?" she was saying in
+a voice that trembled with anger, "base wretch that you are!"</p>
+
+<p>"Crumbs!" ejaculated William.</p>
+
+<p>"Ha! Ha!" sneered the man. "I have you in my power. I will keep you
+here a prisoner till you sign the paper which will make me master of
+all your wealth, and beware, girl, if you do not sign, you may answer
+for it with your life!"</p>
+
+<p>"Golly!" murmured William.</p>
+
+<p>Then he crawled away into the bushes, followed by his attendant
+squire.</p>
+
+<p>"Well," said William, his face purple with excitement, "we've found
+someone to rescue all <i>right</i>. He's a base wretch, wot she said, all
+<i>right</i>."</p>
+
+<p>"Will you kill him?" said the awed squire.</p>
+
+<p>"How big was he? Could you see?" said William the discreet.</p>
+
+<p>"He was ever so big. Great big face he had, too, with a beard."</p>
+
+<p>"Then I won't try killin' him&mdash;not straight off. I'll think of some
+plan&mdash;somethin' cunnin'."</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
+<a href="images/fig9.jpg"><img src="images/fig9_t.jpg" width="400" height="258"
+alt="William and Ginger followed on all fours with elaborate
+caution." title="William and Ginger followed on all fours with elaborate caution." /></a>
+<span class="caption">William and Ginger followed on all fours with elaborate
+caution.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>He sat with his chin on his hands, gazing into space, till they were
+surprised by the opening of the front door and the appearance of a
+tall, thick-set, elderly man. William quivered with excitement. The
+man went along a path through the bushes. William and Ginger followed
+on all fours with elaborate caution. At every almost inaudible sound
+from Ginger, William turned his red, frowning face on to him with a
+resounding "Sh!" The path ended at a small shed with a locked door.
+The man opened the door&mdash;the key stood in the lock&mdash;and entered.</p>
+
+<p>Promptly William, with a snarl expressive of cunning and triumph,
+hurled himself at the door and turned the key in the lock.</p>
+
+<p>"Here!" came an angry shout from inside. "Who's that? What the
+devil&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"You low ole caitiff!" said William through the keyhole.</p>
+
+<p>"Who the deuce&mdash;&mdash;?" exploded the voice.</p>
+
+<p>"You base wretch, like wot she said you was," bawled William, his
+mouth still applied closely to the keyhole.</p>
+
+<p>"Let me out at once, or I'll&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"You mean ole oppressor!"</p>
+
+<p>"Who the deuce are you? What's this tomfool trick? Let me <i>out</i>! Do
+you hear?"</p>
+
+<p>A resounding kick shook the door.</p>
+
+<p>"I've gotter pistol," said William sternly. "I'll shoot you dead if
+you kick the door down, you mangy ole beast!"</p>
+
+<p>The sound of kicking ceased and a scrambling and scraping, accompanied
+by oaths, proceeded from the interior.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll stay on guard," said William with the tense expression of the
+soldier at his post, "an' you go an' set her free. Go an' blow the
+bugle at the front door, then they'll know something's happened," he
+added simply.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 25%;' />
+
+<p>Miss Priscilla Greene was pouring out tea in the drawing-room. Two
+young men and a maiden were the recipients of her hospitality.</p>
+
+<p>"Dad will be here in a minute," she said. "He's just gone to the
+dark-room to see to some photos he'd left in toning or fixing, or
+something. We'll get on with the rehearsal as soon as he comes. We'd
+just rehearsed the scene he and I have together, so we're ready for
+the ones where we all come in."</p>
+
+<p>"How did it go off?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, quite well. We knew our parts, anyway."</p>
+
+<p>"I think the village will enjoy it."</p>
+
+<p>"Anyway, it's never very critical, is it? And it loves a melodrama."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. I wonder if father knows you're here. He said he'd come straight
+back. Perhaps I'd better go and find him."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, let me go, Miss Greene," said one of the youths ardently.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I don't know whether you'd find the place. It's a shed in the
+garden that he uses. We use half as a dark-room and half as a
+coal-cellar."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll go&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>He stopped. A nightmare sound, as discordant as it was ear-splitting,
+filled the room. Miss Greene sank back into her chair, suddenly white.
+One of the young men let a cup of tea fall neatly from his fingers on
+to the floor and there crash into fragments. The young lady visitor
+emitted a scream that would have done credit to a factory siren. Then
+at the open French window appeared a small boy holding a bugle,
+purple-faced with the effort of his performance.</p>
+
+<p>One of the young men was the first to recover speech. He stepped away
+from the broken crockery on the floor as if to disclaim all
+responsibility for it and said sternly:</p>
+
+<p>"Did you make that horrible noise?"</p>
+
+<p>Miss Greene began to laugh hysterically.</p>
+
+<p>"Do have some tea now you've come," she said to Ginger.</p>
+
+<p>Ginger remembered the pangs of hunger, of which excitement had
+momentarily rendered him oblivious, and, deciding that there was no
+time like the present, took a cake from the stand and began to consume
+it in silence.</p>
+
+<p>"You'd better be careful," said the young lady to her hostess; "he
+might have escaped from the asylum. He looks mad. He had a very mad
+look, I thought, when he was standing at the window."</p>
+
+<p>"He's evidently hungry, anyway. I can't think why father doesn't
+come."</p>
+
+<p>Here Ginger, fortified by a walnut bun, remembered his mission.</p>
+
+<p>"It's all right now," he said. "You can go home. He's shut up. Me an'
+William shut him up."</p>
+
+<p>"You see!" said the young lady with a meaning glance around. "I <i>said</i>
+he was from the asylum. He looked mad. We'd better humour him and ring
+up the asylum. Have another cake, darling boy," she said in a tone of
+honeyed sweetness.</p>
+
+<p>Nothing loth, Ginger selected an ornate pyramid of icing.</p>
+
+<p>At this point there came a bellowing and crashing and tramping outside
+and Miss Priscilla's father, roaring fury and threats of vengeance,
+hurled himself into the room. Miss Priscilla's father had made his
+escape by a small window at the other end of the shed. To do this he
+had had to climb over the coals in the dark. His face and hands and
+clothes and once-white beard were covered with coal. His eyes gleamed
+whitely.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
+<a href="images/fig10.jpg"><img src="images/fig10_t.jpg" width="400" height="336"
+alt="&quot;He&#39;s got out,&quot; William said reproachfully. &quot;Why di&#39;n&#39;t
+someone STOP him gettin&#39; out?&quot;" title="He&#39;s got out,&quot; William said
+reproachfully. " /></a><span class="caption">&quot;He&#39;s got out,&quot; William said
+reproachfully. &quot;Why di&#39;n&#39;t someone STOP him gettin&#39; out?&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"An abominable attack ... utterly unprovoked ... dastardly ruffians!"</p>
+
+<p>Here he stopped to splutter because his mouth was full of coal dust.
+While he was spluttering, William, who had just discovered that his
+bird had flown, appeared at the window.</p>
+
+<p>"He's got out," he said reproachfully. "Look at him. He's got out. An'
+all our trouble for nothing. Why di'n't someone <i>stop</i> him gettin'
+out?"</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 25%;' />
+
+<p>William and Ginger sat on the railing that separated their houses.</p>
+
+<p>"It's not really much <i>fun</i> bein' a knight," said William slowly.</p>
+
+<p>"No," agreed Ginger. "You never know when folks <i>is</i> oppressed. An'
+anyway, wot's one afternoon away from school to make such a fuss
+about?"</p>
+
+<p>"Seems to me from wot father said," went on William gloomily, "you'll
+have to wait a jolly long time for that drink of ginger-ale."</p>
+
+<p>An expression of dejection came over Ginger's face.</p>
+
+<p>"An' you wasn't even ever squire," he said. Then he brightened.</p>
+
+<p>"They were jolly good cakes, wasn't they?" he said.</p>
+
+<p>William's lips curved into a smile of blissful reminiscence.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Jolly</i> good!" he agreed.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CH_V" id="CH_V"></a>V</h2>
+
+<h2><span class="smcap">William's Hobby</span></h2>
+
+
+<p>Uncle George was William's godfather, and he was intensely interested
+in William's upbringing. It was an interest with which William would
+gladly have dispensed. Uncle George's annual visit was to William a
+purgatory only to be endured by a resolutely philosophic attitude of
+mind and the knowledge that sooner or later it must come to an end.
+Uncle George had an ideal of what a boy should be, and it was a
+continual grief to him that William fell so short of this ideal. But
+he never relinquished his efforts to make William conform to it.</p>
+
+<p>His ideal was a gentle boy of exquisite courtesy and of intellectual
+pursuits. Such a boy he could have loved. It was hard that fate had
+endowed him with a godson like William. William was neither quiet nor
+gentle, nor courteous nor intellectual&mdash;but William was intensely
+human.</p>
+
+<p>The length of Uncle George's visit this year was beginning to reach
+the limits of William's patience. He was beginning to feel that sooner
+or later something must happen. For five weeks now he had
+(reluctantly) accompanied Uncle George upon his morning walk, he had
+(generally unsuccessfully) tried to maintain that state of absolute
+quiet that Uncle George's afternoon rest required, he had in the
+evening listened wearily to Uncle George's stories of his youth. His
+usual feeling of mild contempt for Uncle George was beginning to give
+way to one which was much stronger.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, William," said Uncle George at breakfast, "I'm afraid it's going
+to rain to-day, so we'll do a little work together this morning, shall
+we? Nothing like work, is there? Your Arithmetic's a bit shaky, isn't
+it? We'll rub that up. We <i>love</i> our work, don't we?"</p>
+
+<p>William eyed him coldly.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't think I'd better get muddlin' up my school work," he said. "I
+shouldn't like to be more on than the other boys next term. It
+wouldn't be fair to them."</p>
+
+<p>Uncle George rubbed his hands.</p>
+
+<p>"That feeling does you credit, my boy," he said, "but if we go over
+some of the old work, no harm can be done. History, now. There's
+nothing like History, is there?"</p>
+
+<p>William agreed quite heartily that there wasn't.</p>
+
+<p>"We'll do some History, then," said Uncle George briskly. "The lives
+of the great. Most inspiring. Better than those terrible things you
+used to waste your time on, eh?"</p>
+
+<p>The "terrible things" had included a trumpet, a beloved motor hooter,
+and an ingenious instrument very dear to William's soul that
+reproduced most realistically the sound of two cats fighting. These,
+at Uncle George's request, had been confiscated by William's father.
+Uncle George had not considered them educational. They also disturbed
+his afternoon's rest.</p>
+
+<p>Uncle George settled himself and William down for a nice quiet morning
+in the library. William, looking round for escape, found none. The
+outside world was wholly uninviting. The rain came down in torrents.
+Moreover, the five preceding weeks had broken William's spirits. He
+realised the impossibility of evading Uncle George. His own family
+were not sympathetic. They suffered from him considerably during the
+rest of the year and were not sorry to see him absorbed completely by
+Uncle George's conscientious zeal.</p>
+
+<p>So Uncle George seated himself slowly and ponderously in an arm-chair
+by the fire.</p>
+
+<p>"When I was a boy, William," he began, leaning back and joining the
+tips of his fingers together, "I loved my studies. I'm sure you love
+your studies, don't you? Which do you love most?"</p>
+
+<p>"Me?" said William. "I like shootin' and playin' Red Injuns."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, yes," said Uncle George impatiently, "but those aren't
+<i>studies</i>, William. You must aim at being <i>gentle</i>."</p>
+
+<p>"It's not much good bein' <i>gentle</i> when you're playin' Red Injuns,"
+said William stoutly. "A <i>gentle</i> Red Injun wun't get much done."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, but why play Red Indians?" said Uncle George. "A nasty rough
+game. No, we'll talk about History. You must mould your character upon
+that of the great heroes, William. You must be a Clive, a Napoleon, a
+Wolfe."</p>
+
+<p>"I've often been a wolf," said William. "That game's nearly as good as
+Red Injuns. An' Bears is a good game too. We might have Bears here,"
+he went on brightening. "Jus' you an' me. Would you sooner be bear or
+hunter? I'd sooner be hunter," he hinted gently.</p>
+
+<p>"You misunderstand," said Uncle George. "I mean Wolfe the man, Wolfe
+the hero."</p>
+
+<p>William, who had little patience with heroes who came within the
+school curriculum, relapsed into gloom.</p>
+
+<p>"What lessons do we learn from such names, my boy?" went on Uncle
+George.</p>
+
+<p>William was on the floor behind Uncle George's chair endeavouring to
+turn a somersault in a very restricted space.</p>
+
+<p>"History lessons an' dates an' things," he said shortly. "An' the
+things they 'spect you to remember&mdash;&mdash;!" he added with disgust.</p>
+
+<p>"No, no," said Uncle George, but the fire was hot and his chair was
+comfortable and his educational zeal was dying away, "to endure the
+buffets of fate with equanimity, to smile at misfortune, to endure
+whatever comes, and so on&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>He stopped suddenly.</p>
+
+<p>William had managed the somersault, but it had somehow brought his
+feet into collision with Uncle George's neck. Uncle George sleepily
+shifted his position.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 294px;">
+<a href="images/fig10b.jpg"><img src="images/fig10b_t.jpg" width="294" height="300"
+alt="William was on the floor behind Uncle George&#39;s chair endeavouring to turn a
+somersault in a very restricted space." title="William was on the floor behind Uncle
+George&#39;s chair endeavouring to turn a somersault in a very restricted space." /></a>
+<span class="caption">William was on the floor behind Uncle George&#39;s chair
+endeavouring to turn a somersault in a very restricted space.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"Boisterous! Boisterous!" he murmured disapprovingly. "You should
+combine the gentleness of a Moore with the courage of a Wellington,
+William."</p>
+
+<p>William now perceived that Uncle George's eyelids were drooping
+slowly and William's sudden statuesque calm would have surprised many
+of his instructors.</p>
+
+<p>The silence and the warmth of the room had their effect. In less than
+three minutes Uncle George was dead to the world around him.</p>
+
+<p>William's form relaxed, then he crept up to look closely at the face
+of his enemy. He decided that he disliked it intensely. Something must
+be done at once. He looked round the room. There were not many weapons
+handy. Only his mother's work-box stood on a chair by the window, and
+on it a pile of socks belonging to Robert, William's elder brother.
+Beneath either arm of his chair one of Uncle George's coat-tails
+protruded. William soon departed on his way rejoicing, while on to one
+of Uncle George's coat-tails was firmly stitched a bright blue sock
+and on to the other a brilliant orange one. Robert's taste in socks
+was decidedly loud. William felt almost happy. The rain had stopped
+and he spent the morning with some of his friends whom he met in the
+road. They went bear-hunting in the wood; and though no bears were
+found, still their disappointment was considerably allayed by the fact
+that one of them saw a mouse and another one distinctly smelt a
+rabbit. William returned to lunch whistling to himself and had the
+intense satisfaction of seeing Uncle George enter the dining-room,
+obviously roused from his slumbers by the luncheon bell, and obviously
+quite unaware of the blue and orange socks that still adorned his
+person.</p>
+
+<p>"Curious!" he ejaculated, as Ethel, William's grown-up sister, pointed
+out the blue sock to him. "Most curious!"</p>
+
+<p>William departed discreetly muttering something about "better tidy up
+a bit," which drew from his sister expressions of surprise and
+solicitous questions as to his state of health.</p>
+
+<p>"Most curious!" again said Uncle George, who had now discovered the
+orange sock.</p>
+
+<p>When William returned, all excitement was over and Uncle George was
+consuming roast beef with energy.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, William," he said, "we must complete the History lesson soon.
+Nothing like History. Nothing like History. Nothing like History.
+Teaches us to endure the buffets of fate with equanimity and to smile
+at misfortune. Then we must do some Geography." William groaned. "Most
+fascinating study. Rivers, mountains, cities, etc. Most improving. The
+morning should be devoted to intellectual work at your age, William,
+and the afternoon to the quiet pursuit of&mdash;some improving hobby. You
+would then find the true joy of life."</p>
+
+<p>To judge from William's countenance he did not wholly agree, but he
+made no objection. He had learnt that objection was useless, and
+against Uncle George's eloquence silence was his only weapon.</p>
+
+<p>After lunch Uncle George followed his usual custom and retired to
+rest. William went to the shed in the back garden and continued the
+erection of a rabbit hutch that he had begun a few days before. He
+hoped that if he made a hutch, Providence would supply a rabbit. He
+whistled blithely as he knocked nails in at random.</p>
+
+<p>"William, you mustn't do that now."</p>
+
+<p>He turned a stern gaze upon his mother.</p>
+
+<p>"Why not?" he said.</p>
+
+<p>"Uncle George is resting."</p>
+
+<p>With a crushing glance at her he strolled away from the shed. Someone
+had left the lawn mower in the middle of the lawn. With one of his
+rare impulses of pure virtue he determined to be useful. Also, he
+rather liked mowing the grass.</p>
+
+<p>"William, don't do that now," called his sister from the window.
+"Uncle George is resting."</p>
+
+<p>He deliberately drove the mowing machine into the middle of a garden
+bed and left it there. He was beginning to feel desperate. Then:</p>
+
+<p>"What <i>can</i> I do?" he said bitterly to Ethel, who was still at the
+window.</p>
+
+<p>"You'd better find some quiet, improving hobby," she said unkindly as
+she went away.</p>
+
+<p>It is a proof of the utterly broken state of William's spirit that he
+did actually begin to think of hobbies, but none of those that
+occurred to him interested him. Stamp-collecting, pressed flowers,
+crest-collecting&mdash;Ugh!</p>
+
+<p>He set off down the road, his hands in his pockets and his brows drawn
+into a stern frown. He amused himself by imagining Uncle George in
+various predicaments, lost on a desert island, captured by pirates,
+or carried off by an eagle. Then something in the window of a house he
+passed caught his eye and he stopped suddenly. It was a stuffed bird
+under a glass case. Now that was something <i>like</i> a hobby, stuffing
+dead animals! He wouldn't mind having that for a hobby. And it was
+quite quiet. He could do it while Uncle George was resting. And it
+must be quite easy. The first thing to do of course was to find a dead
+animal. Any old thing would do to begin on. A dead cat or dog. He
+would do bigger ones like bears and lions later on. He spent nearly an
+hour in a fruitless search for a dead cat or dog. He searched the
+ditches on both sides of the road and several gardens. He began to
+have a distinct sense of grievance against the race of cats and dogs
+in general for not dying in his vicinity. At the end of the hour he
+found a small dead frog. It was very dry and shrivelled, but it was
+certainly a <i>dead</i> frog and would do to begin on. He took it home in
+his pocket. He wondered what they did first in stuffing dead animals.
+He'd heard something about "tannin'" them. But what was "tannin'," and
+how did one get it? Then he remembered suddenly having heard Ethel
+talk about the "tannin'" in tea. So <i>that</i> was all right. The first
+thing to do was to get some tea. He went to the drawing-room. It was
+empty, but upon the table near the fire was a tea-tray and two cups.
+Evidently his mother and sister had just had tea there. He put the
+frog at the bottom of a cup and carefully filled the cup with tea
+from the teapot. Then he left it to soak and went out into the garden.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
+<a href="images/fig11.jpg"><img src="images/fig11_t.jpg" width="400" height="393"
+alt="In frozen silence Uncle George put a spoon into his cup
+and investigated the contents. in still more frozen silence Mrs. Brown and William watched."
+title="In frozen silence Uncle George put a spoon into his cup and investigated the contents." /></a>
+<span class="caption">In frozen silence Uncle George put a spoon into his cup
+and investigated the contents. in still more frozen silence Mrs. Brown and William watched.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>A few minutes later William's mother entered the drawing-room.</p>
+
+<p>Uncle George had finished resting and was standing by the
+mantel-piece with a cup in his hand.</p>
+
+<p>"I see you poured out my tea for me," he said. "But rather a curious
+taste. Doubtless you boil the milk now. Safer, of course. Much safer.
+But it imparts a curious flavour."</p>
+
+<p>He took another sip.</p>
+
+<p>"But&mdash;I didn't pour out your tea&mdash;&mdash;" began Mrs. Brown.</p>
+
+<p>Here William entered. He looked quickly at the table.</p>
+
+<p>"Who's meddlin' with my frog?" he said angrily. "It's my hobby, an'
+I'm stuffin' frogs an' someone's been an' took my frog. I left it on
+the table."</p>
+
+<p>"On the table?" said his mother.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. In a cup of tea. Gettin' tannin.' You know. For stuffin'. I was
+puttin' him in tannin' first. I&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Uncle George grew pale. In frozen silence he put a spoon into his cup
+and investigated the contents. In still more frozen silence Mrs. Brown
+and William watched. That moment held all the cumulative horror of a
+Greek tragedy. Then Uncle George put down his cup and went silently
+from the room. On his face was the expression of one who is going to
+look up the first train home. Fate had sent him a buffet he could not
+endure with equanimity, a misfortune at which he could not smile, and
+Fate had avenged William for much.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CH_VI" id="CH_VI"></a>VI</h2>
+
+<h2><span class="smcap">The Rivals</span></h2>
+
+
+<p>William was aware of a vague feeling of apprehension when he heard
+that Joan Clive, the little girl who lived next door, was having a
+strange cousin to stay for three weeks. All his life, William had
+accepted Joan's adoration and homage with condescending indifference,
+but he did not like to imagine a possible rival.</p>
+
+<p>"What's he <i>coming</i> for?" he demanded with an ungracious scowl,
+perched uncomfortably and dangerously on the high wall that separated
+the two gardens and glaring down at Joan. "What's he comin' <i>for</i>, any
+way?"</p>
+
+<p>"'Cause mother's invited him," explained Joan simply, with a shake of
+her golden curls. "He's called Cuthbert. She says he's a sweet little
+boy."</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Sweet!</i>" echoed William in a tone of exaggerated horror. "Ugh!"</p>
+
+<p>"Well," said Joan, with the smallest note of indignation in her voice,
+"you needn't play with him if you don't like."</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Me?</i> Play? With <i>him</i>?" scowled William as if he could not believe
+his ears. "I'm not likely to go playin' with a kid like wot <i>he'll</i>
+be!"</p>
+
+<p>Joan raised aggrieved blue eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"You're a <i>horrid</i> boy sometimes, William!" she said. "Any way, I
+shall have him to play with soon."</p>
+
+<p>It was the first time he had received anything but admiration from
+her.</p>
+
+<p>He scowled speechlessly.</p>
+
+<p>Cuthbert arrived the next morning.</p>
+
+<p>William was restless and ill-at-ease, and several times climbed the
+ladder for a glimpse of the guest, but all he could see was the garden
+inhabited only by a cat and a gardener. He amused himself by throwing
+stones at the cat till he hit the gardener by mistake and then fled
+precipitately before a storm of abuse. William and the gardener were
+enemies of very long standing. After dinner he went out again into the
+garden and stood gazing through a chink in the wall.</p>
+
+<p>Cuthbert was in the garden.</p>
+
+<p>Though as old and as tall as William, he was dressed in an embroidered
+tunic, very short knickers, and white socks. Over his blue eyes his
+curls were brushed up into a golden halo.</p>
+
+<p>He was a picturesque child.</p>
+
+<p>"What shall we do?" Joan was saying. "Would you like to play hide and
+seek?"</p>
+
+<p>"No; leth not play at rough gameth," said Cuthbert.</p>
+
+<p>With a wild spasm of joy William realised that his enemy lisped. It
+is always well to have a handle against one's enemies.</p>
+
+<p>"What shall we do, then?" said Joan, somewhat wearily.</p>
+
+<p>"Leth thit down an' I'll tell you fairy thorieth," said Cuthbert.</p>
+
+<p>A loud snort from inside the wall just by his ear startled him, and he
+clutched Joan's arm.</p>
+
+<p>"What'th that?" he said.</p>
+
+<p>There were sounds of clambering feet on the other side of the wall,
+then William's grimy countenance appeared.</p>
+
+<p>"Hello, Joan!" he said, ignoring the stranger.</p>
+
+<p>Joan's eyes brightened.</p>
+
+<p>"Come and play with us, William," she begged.</p>
+
+<p>"We don't want dirty little boyth," murmured Cuthbert fastidiously.
+William could not, with justice, have objected to the epithet. He had
+spent the last half-hour climbing on to the rafters of the disused
+coach-house, and dust and cobwebs adorned his face and hair.</p>
+
+<p>"He's <i>always</i> like that," explained Joan, carelessly.</p>
+
+<p>By this time William had thought of a suitable rejoinder.</p>
+
+<p>"All right," he jeered, "don't look at me then. Go on tellin' fairy
+<i>thorieth</i>."</p>
+
+<p>Cuthbert flushed angrily.</p>
+
+<p>"You're a nathty rude little boy," he said. "I'll tell my mother."</p>
+
+<p>Thus war was declared.</p>
+
+<p>He came to tea the next day. Not all William's pleading could persuade
+his mother to cancel the invitation.</p>
+
+<p>"Well," said William darkly, "wait till you've <i>seen</i> him, that's all.
+Wait till you've heard him <i>speakin'</i>. He can't talk even. He can't
+<i>play</i>. He tells fairy stories. He don't like <i>dirt</i>. He's got long
+hair an' a funny long coat. He's <i>awful</i>, I tell you. I don't <i>want</i>
+to have him to tea. I don't want to be washed an' all just because
+<i>he's</i> comin' to tea."</p>
+
+<p>But as usual William's eloquence availed nothing.</p>
+
+<p>Several people came to tea that afternoon, and there was a sudden
+silence when Mrs. Clive, Joan, and Cuthbert entered. Cuthbert was in a
+white silk tunic embroidered with blue, he wore white shoes and white
+silk socks. His golden curls shone. He looked angelic.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, the darling!"</p>
+
+<p>"Isn't he adorable?"</p>
+
+<p>"What a <i>picture</i>!"</p>
+
+<p>"Come here, sweetheart."</p>
+
+<p>Cuthbert was quite used to this sort of thing.</p>
+
+<p>They were more delighted than ever with him when they discovered his
+lisp.</p>
+
+<p>His manners were perfect. He raised his face, with a charming smile,
+to be kissed, then sat down on the sofa between Joan and Mrs. Clive,
+swinging long bare legs.</p>
+
+<p>William, sitting, an unwilling victim, on a small chair in a corner of
+the room, brushed and washed till he shone again, was conscious of a
+feeling of fury quite apart from the usual sense of outrage that he
+always felt upon such an occasion. It was bad enough to be washed till
+the soap went into his eyes and down his ears despite all his
+protests. It was bad enough to have had his hair brushed till his head
+smarted. It was bad enough to be hustled out of his comfortable jersey
+into his Eton suit which he loathed. But to see Joan, <i>his</i> Joan,
+sitting next the strange, dressed-up, lisping boy, smiling and talking
+to him, that was almost more than he could bear with calmness.
+Previously, as has been said, he had received Joan's adoration with
+coldness, but previously there had been no rival.</p>
+
+<p>"William," said his mother, "take Joan and Cuthbert and show them your
+engine and books and things. Remember you're the <i>host</i>, dear," she
+murmured as he passed. "Try to make them happy."</p>
+
+<p>He turned upon her a glance that would have made a stronger woman
+quail.</p>
+
+<p>Silently he led them up to his play-room.</p>
+
+<p>"There's my engine, an' my books. You can play with them," he said
+coldly to Cuthbert. "Let's go and play in the garden, you and me,
+Joan." But Joan shook her head.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't thuppoth the'd care to go out without me," said Cuthbert
+airily. "<i>I'll</i> go with you. Thith boy can play here if he liketh."</p>
+
+<p>And William, artist in vituperation as he was, could think of no
+response.</p>
+
+<p>He followed them into the garden, and there came upon him a wild
+determination to show his superiority.</p>
+
+<p>"You can't climb that tree," he began.</p>
+
+<p>"I can," said Cuthbert sweetly.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, <i>climb</i> it then," grimly.</p>
+
+<p>"No, I don't want to get my thingth all methed. I <i>can</i> climb it, but
+you can't. He can't climb it, Joan, he'th trying to pretend he can
+climb it when he can't. He knowth I can climb it, but I don't want to
+get my thingth methed."</p>
+
+<p>Joan smiled admiringly at Cuthbert.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll <i>show</i> you," said William desperately. "I'll just <i>show</i> you."</p>
+
+<p>He showed them.</p>
+
+<p>He climbed till the tree-top swayed with his weight, then descended,
+hot and triumphant. The tree was covered with green lichen, a great
+part of which had deposited itself upon William's suit. His efforts
+also had twisted his collar round till its stud was beneath his ear.
+His heated countenance beamed with pride.</p>
+
+<p>For a moment Cuthbert was nonplussed. Then he said scornfully:</p>
+
+<p>"Don't he look a <i>fright</i>, Joan?" Joan giggled.</p>
+
+<p>But William was wholly engrossed in his self-imposed task of "showing
+them." He led them to the bottom of the garden, where a small stream
+(now almost dry) disappeared into a narrow tunnel to flow under the
+road and reappear in the field at the other side.</p>
+
+<p>"You can't crawl through that," challenged William, "you can't <i>do</i>
+it. I've <i>done</i> it, done it often. I bet <i>you</i> can't. I bet you can't
+get halfway. I&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, <i>do</i> it, then!" jeered Cuthbert.</p>
+
+<p>William, on all fours, disappeared into the mud and slime of the small
+round aperture. Joan clasped her hands, and even Cuthbert was secretly
+impressed. They stood in silence. At intervals William's muffled voice
+came from the tunnel.</p>
+
+<p>"It's jolly muddy, too, I can <i>tell</i> you."</p>
+
+<p>"I've caught a frog! I say, I've caught a frog!"</p>
+
+<p>"Crumbs! It's got away!"</p>
+
+<p>"It's nearly quicksands here."</p>
+
+<p>"If I tried I could nearly <i>drown</i> here!"</p>
+
+<p>At last, through the hedge, they saw him emerge in the field across
+the road. He swaggered across to them aglow with his own heroism. As
+he entered the gate he was rewarded by the old light of adoration in
+Joan's blue eyes, but on full sight of him it quickly turned to
+consternation. His appearance was beyond description. There was a
+malicious smile on Cuthbert's face.</p>
+
+<p>"Do thumthing elth," he urged him. "Go on, do thumthing elth."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, William," said Joan anxiously, "you'd better not."</p>
+
+<p>But the gods had sent madness to William. He was drunk with the sense
+of his own prowess. He was regardless of consequences.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 293px;">
+<a href="images/fig12.jpg"><img src="images/fig12_t.jpg" width="293" height="400" alt="&quot;I
+can climb up that an&#39; slide down the coal inside. That&#39;s what I can do.
+There&#39;s nothin&#39; I can&#39;t do!&quot; said William." title="&quot;I can climb up
+that an&#39; slide down the coal inside. That&#39;s what I can do. There&#39;s nothin&#39;
+I can&#39;t do!&quot; said William." /></a>
+<span class="caption">&quot;I can climb up that an&#39; slide down the coal inside.
+That&#39;s what I can do. There&#39;s nothin&#39; I can&#39;t do!&quot; said William.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>He pointed to a little window high up in the coal-house.</p>
+
+<p>"I can climb up that an' slide down the coal inside. That's what I can
+do. There's <i>nothin'</i> I can't do. I&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"All right," urged Cuthbert, "if you can do that, do it, and I'll
+believe you can do anything."</p>
+
+<p>For Cuthbert, with unholy glee, foresaw William's undoing.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, William," pleaded Joan, "<i>I know</i> you're brave, but don't&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>But William was already doing it. They saw his disappearance into the
+little window, they heard plainly his descent down the coal heap
+inside, and in less than a minute he appeared in the doorway. He was
+almost unrecognisable. Coal dust adhered freely to the moist
+consistency of the mud and lichen already clinging to his suit, as
+well as to his hair and face. His collar had been almost torn away
+from its stud. William himself was smiling proudly, utterly
+unconscious of his appearance. Joan was plainly wavering between
+horror and admiration. Then the moment for which Cuthbert had longed
+arrived.</p>
+
+<p>"Children! come in now!"</p>
+
+<p>Cuthbert, clean and dainty, entered the drawing-room first and pointed
+an accusing finger at the strange figure which followed.</p>
+
+<p>"He'th been climbing treeth an' crawling in the mud, an' rolling down
+the coalth. He'th a nathty rough boy."</p>
+
+<p>A wild babel arose as William entered.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>William!</i>"</p>
+
+<p>"You <i>dreadful</i> boy!"</p>
+
+<p>"Joan, come right away from him. Come over here."</p>
+
+<p>"What <i>will</i> your father say?"</p>
+
+<p>"William, my <i>carpet</i>!"</p>
+
+<p>For the greater part of the stream's bed still clung to William's
+boots.</p>
+
+<p>Doggedly William defended himself.</p>
+
+<p>"I was showin' 'em how to do things. I was bein' a host. I was tryin'
+to make 'em <i>happy</i>! I&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"William, don't stand there talking. Go straight upstairs to the
+bathroom."</p>
+
+<p>It was the end of the first battle, and undoubtedly William had lost.
+Yet William had caught sight of the smile on Cuthbert's face and
+William had decided that that smile was something to be avenged.</p>
+
+<p>But fate did not favour him. Indeed, fate seemed to do the reverse.</p>
+
+<p>The idea of a children's play did not emanate from William's mother,
+or Joan's. They were both free from guilt in that respect. It emanated
+from Mrs. de Vere Carter. Mrs. de Vere Carter was a neighbour with a
+genius for organisation. There were few things she did not organise
+till their every other aspect or aim was lost but that of
+"organisation." She also had what amounted practically to a disease
+for "getting up" things. She "got up" plays, and bazaars, and
+pageants, and concerts. There were, in fact, few things she did not
+"get up." It was the sight of Joan and Cuthbert walking together down
+the road, the sun shining on their golden curls, that had inspired her
+with the idea of "getting up" a children's play. And Joan must be the
+Princess and little Cuthbert the Prince.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. de Vere Carter was to write the play herself. At first she
+decided on Cinderella. Unfortunately there was a dearth of little
+girls in the neighbourhood, and therefore it was decided at a meeting
+composed of Mrs. de Vere Carter, Mrs. Clive, Mrs. Brown (William's
+mother), and Ethel (William's sister), that William could easily be
+dressed up to represent one of the ugly sisters. It was, however,
+decided at a later meeting, consisting of William and his mother and
+sister, that William could not take the part. It was William who came
+to this decision. He was adamant against both threats and entreaties.
+Without cherishing any delusions about his personal appearance, he
+firmly declined to play the part of the ugly sister. They took the
+news with deep apologies to Mrs. de Vere Carter, who was already in
+the middle of the first act. Her already low opinion of William sank
+to zero. Their next choice was little Red Riding Hood, and William was
+lured, by glowing pictures of a realistic costume, into consenting to
+take the part of the Wolf. Every day he had to be dragged by some
+elder and responsible member of his family to a rehearsal. His hatred
+of Cuthbert was only equalled by his hatred of Mrs. de Vere Carter.</p>
+
+<p>"He acts so <i>unnaturally</i>," moaned Mrs. de Vere Carter. "Try really
+to <i>think</i> you're a wolf, darling. Put some spirit into it.
+Be&mdash;<i>animated</i>."</p>
+
+<p>William scowled at her and once more muttered monotonously his opening
+lines:</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">"<i>A wolf am I&mdash;a wolf on mischief bent,</i></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;"><i>To eat this little maid is my intent.</i>"</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>"Take a breath after 'bent,' darling. Now say it again."</p>
+
+<p>William complied, introducing this time a loud and audible gasp to
+represent the breath. Mrs. de Vere Carter sighed.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, Cuthbert, darling, draw your little sword and put your arm round
+Joan. That's right."</p>
+
+<p>Cuthbert obeyed, and his clear voice rose in a high chanting monotone.</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">"<i>Avaunt! Begone! You wicked wolf, away!</i></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;"><i>This gentle maid shall never be your prey.</i>"</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>"That's beautiful, darling. Now, William, slink away. <i>Slink</i> away,
+darling. Don't stand staring at Cuthbert like that. Slink away. I'll
+show you. Watch me slink away."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. de Vere Carter slunk away realistically, and the sight of it
+brought momentary delight to William's weary soul. Otherwise the
+rehearsals were not far removed from torture to him. The thought of
+being a wolf had at first attracted him, but actually a wolf character
+who had to repeat Mrs. de Vere Carter's meaningless couplets and be
+worsted at every turn by the smiling Cuthbert, who was forced to
+watch from behind the scenes the fond embraces of Cuthbert and Joan,
+galled his proud spirit unspeakably. Moreover Cuthbert monopolised her
+both before and after the rehearsals.</p>
+
+<p>"Come away, Joan, he'th prob'bly all over coal dutht and all of a
+meth."</p>
+
+<p>The continued presence of unsympathetic elders prevented his proper
+avenging of such insults.</p>
+
+<p>The day of the performance approached, and there arose some little
+trouble about William's costume. If the wearing of the dining-room
+hearth-rug had been forbidden by Authority it would have at once
+become the dearest wish of William's heart and a thing to be
+accomplished at all costs. But, because Authority decreed that that
+should be William's official costume as the Wolf, William at once
+began to find insuperable difficulties.</p>
+
+<p>"It's a dirty ole thing, all dust and bits of black hair come off it
+on me. I don't think it <i>looks</i> like a wolf. Well, if I've gotter be a
+wolf folks might just as well <i>know</i> what I am. This looks like as if
+it came off a black sheep or sumthin'. You don't want folks to think
+I'm a <i>sheep</i> 'stead of a <i>wolf</i>, do you? You don't want me to be made
+look ridiclus before all these folks, do you?"</p>
+
+<p>He was slightly mollified by their promise to hire a wolf's head for
+him. He practised wolf's howlings (though these had no part in Mrs. de
+Vere Carter's play) at night in his room till he drove his family
+almost beyond the bounds of sanity.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. de Vere Carter had hired the Village Hall for the performance,
+and the proceeds were to go to a local charity.</p>
+
+<p>On the night of the play the Hall was packed, and Mrs. de Vere Carter
+was in a flutter of excitement and importance.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, the dear children are splendid, and they look <i>beautiful</i>! We've
+all worked so <i>hard</i>. Yes, entirely my own composition. I only hope
+that William Brown won't <i>murder</i> my poetry as he does at rehearsals."</p>
+
+<p>The curtain went up.</p>
+
+<p>The scene was a wood, as was evident from a few small branches of
+trees placed here and there at intervals on the stage.</p>
+
+<p>Joan, in a white dress and red cloak, entered and began to speak,
+quickly and breathlessly, stressing every word with impartial
+regularity.</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">"<i>A little maid am I&mdash;Red Riding-Hood.</i></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;"><i>My journey lies along this dark, thick wood.</i></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;"><i>Within my basket is a little jar</i></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;"><i>Of jam&mdash;a present for my grand-mamma.</i>"</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>Then Cuthbert entered&mdash;a Prince in white satin with a blue sash. There
+was a rapt murmur of admiration in the audience as he made his
+appearance.</p>
+
+<p>William waited impatiently and uneasily behind the scenes. His wolf's
+head was very hot. One of the eye-holes was beyond his range of
+vision; through the other he had a somewhat prescribed view of what
+went on around him. He had been pinned tightly into the dining-room
+hearth-rug, his arms pinioned down by his side. He was distinctly
+uncomfortable.</p>
+
+<p>At last his cue came.</p>
+
+<p>Red Riding-Hood and the Prince parted after a short conversation in
+which their acquaintance made rapid strides, and at the end of which
+the Prince said casually as he turned to go:</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">"<i>So sweet a maid have I never seen,</i></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;"><i>Ere long I hope to make her my wife and queen.</i>"</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>Red Riding-Hood gazed after him, remarking (all in the same breath and
+tone):</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">"<i>How kind he is, how gentle and how good!</i></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;"><i>But, see what evil beast comes through the wood!</i>"</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>Here William entered amid wild applause. On the stage he found that
+his one eye-hole gave him an excellent view of the audience. His
+mother and father were in the second row. Turning his head round
+slowly he discovered his sister Ethel sitting with a friend near the
+back.</p>
+
+<p>"William," hissed the prompter, "go on! 'A wolf am I&mdash;&mdash;'"</p>
+
+<p>But William was engrossed in the audience. There was Mrs. Clive about
+the middle of the room.</p>
+
+<p>"'A wolf am I'&mdash;<i>go on</i>, William!"</p>
+
+<p>William had now found the cook and housemaid in the last row of all
+and was turning his eye-hole round in search of fresh discoveries.</p>
+
+<p>The prompter grew desperate.</p>
+
+<p>"'A wolf am I&mdash;a wolf on mischief bent.' <i>Say</i> it, William."</p>
+
+<p>William turned his wolf's head towards the wings. "Well, I was <i>goin'</i>
+to say it," he said irritably, "if you'd lef' me alone."</p>
+
+<p>The audience tittered.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, say it," said the voice of the invisible prompter.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I'm going to," said William. "I'm not goin' to say that again
+wot you said 'cause they all heard it. I'll go on from there."</p>
+
+<p>The audience rocked in wild delight. Behind the scenes Mrs. de Vere
+Carter wrung her hands and sniffed strong smelling-salts. "That boy!"
+she moaned.</p>
+
+<p>Then William, sinking his voice from the indignant clearness with
+which it had addressed the prompter, to a muffled inaudibility,
+continued:</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">"<i>To eat this little maid is my intent.</i>"</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>But there leapt on the stage again the radiant white and blue figure
+of the Prince brandishing his wooden sword.</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">"<i>Avaunt! Begone! You wicked wolf, away!</i></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;"><i>This gentle maid shall never be your prey.</i>"</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>At this point William should have slunk away. But the vision revealed
+by his one available eye-hole of the Prince standing in a threatening
+attitude with one arm round Joan filled him with a sudden and
+unaccountable annoyance. He advanced slowly and pugnaciously towards
+the Prince; and the Prince, who had never before acted with William in
+his head (which was hired for one evening only) fled from the stage
+with a wild yell of fear. The curtain was lowered hastily.</p>
+
+<p>There was consternation behind the scenes. William, glaring from out
+his eye-hole and refusing to remove his head, defended himself in his
+best manner.</p>
+
+<p>"Well I di'n't tell him to run away, did I? I di'n't <i>mean</i> him to run
+away. I only <i>looked</i> at him. Well, I was goin' to slink in a minit. I
+only wanted to look at him. I was <i>goin'</i> to slink."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, never mind! Get on with the play!" moaned Mrs. de Vere Carter.
+"But you've quite destroyed the <i>atmosphere</i>, William. You've spoilt
+the beautiful story. But hurry up, it's time for the grandmother's
+cottage scene now."</p>
+
+<p>Not a word of William's speeches was audible in the next scene, but
+his attack on and consumption of the aged grandmother was one of the
+most realistic parts of the play, especially considering the fact that
+his arms were imprisoned.</p>
+
+<p>"Not so roughly, William!" said the prompter in a sibilant whisper.
+"Don't make so much noise. They can't hear a word anyone's saying."</p>
+
+<p>At last William was clothed in the nightgown and nightcap and lying in
+the bed ready for little Red Riding-Hood's entrance. The combined
+effect of the rug and the head and the thought of Cuthbert had made
+him hotter and crosser than he ever remembered having felt before. He
+was conscious of a wild and unreasoning indignation against the world
+in general. Then Joan entered and began to pipe monotonously:</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">"<i>Dear grandmamma, I've come with all quickness</i></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;"><i>To comfort you and sooth your bed of sickness,</i></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;"><i>Here are some little dainties I have brought</i></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;"><i>To show you how we cherish you in our thought.</i>"</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>Here William wearily rose from his bed and made an unconvincing spring
+in her direction.</p>
+
+<p>But on to the stage leapt Cuthbert once more, the vision in blue and
+white with golden curls shining and sword again drawn.</p>
+
+<p>"Ha! evil beast&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>It was too much for William. The heat and discomfort of his attire,
+the sight of the hated Cuthbert already about to embrace <i>his</i> Joan,
+goaded him to temporary madness. With a furious gesture he burst the
+pins which attached the dining-room hearth-rug to his person and freed
+his arms. He tore off the white nightgown. He sprang at the petrified
+Cuthbert&mdash;a small wild figure in a jersey suit and a wolf's head.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 293px;">
+<a href="images/fig13.jpg"><img src="images/fig13_t.jpg" width="293" height="400" alt="The
+sight of the hated Cuthbert about to embrace his Joan goaded William to temporary madness."
+title="The sight of the hated Cuthbert about to embrace his Joan goaded William to temporary
+madness." /></a><span class="caption">The sight of the hated Cuthbert about to embrace his
+Joan goaded William to temporary madness.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Mrs. de Vere Carter had filled Red Riding-Hood's basket with
+packages of simple groceries, which included, among other things, a
+paper bag of flour and a jar of jam.</p>
+
+<p>William seized these wildly and hurled handfuls of flour at the
+prostrate, screaming Cuthbert. The stage was suddenly pandemonium. The
+other small actors promptly joined the battle. The prompter was too
+panic-stricken to lower the curtain. The air was white with clouds of
+flour. The victim scrambled to his feet and fled, a ghost-like figure,
+round the table.</p>
+
+<p>"Take him off me," he yelled. "Take him <i>off</i> me. Take William off
+me." His wailing was deafening.</p>
+
+<p>The next second he was on the floor, with William on top of him.
+William now varied the proceedings by emptying the jar of jam on to
+Cuthbert's face and hair.</p>
+
+<p>They were separated at last by the prompter and stage manager, while
+the audience rose and cheered hysterically. But louder than the
+cheering rose the sound of Cuthbert's lamentation.</p>
+
+<p>"He'th a nathty, rough boy! He puthed me down. He'th methed my nith
+clotheth. Boo-hoo!"</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. de Vere Carter was inarticulate.</p>
+
+<p>"That boy ... that <i>boy</i> ... <i>that boy</i>!" was all she could say.</p>
+
+<p>William was hurried away by his family before she could regain speech.</p>
+
+<p>"You've disgraced us publicly," said Mrs. Brown plaintively. "I
+thought you must have gone <i>mad</i>. People will never forget it. I
+might have known...."</p>
+
+<p>When pressed for an explanation William would only say:</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I felt hot. I felt awful hot, an' I di'n't like Cuthbert."</p>
+
+<p>He appeared to think this sufficient explanation, though he was fully
+prepared for the want of sympathy displayed by his family.</p>
+
+<p>"Well," he said firmly, "I'd just like to see you do it, I'd just like
+to see you be in the head and that ole rug an' have to say stupid
+things an'&mdash;an' see folks you don't like, an' I bet you'd <i>do</i>
+something."</p>
+
+<p>But he felt that public feeling was against him, and relapsed sadly
+into silence. From the darkness in front of them came the sound of
+Cuthbert's wailing as Mrs. Clive led her two charges home.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Poor</i> little Cuthbert!" said Mrs. Brown. "If I were Joan, I don't
+think I'd ever speak to you again."</p>
+
+<p>"Huh!" ejaculated William scornfully.</p>
+
+<p>But at William's gate a small figure slipped out from the darkness and
+two little arms crept round William's neck.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, <i>William</i>," she whispered, "he's going to-morrow, and I am glad.
+Isn't he a softie? Oh, William, I do <i>love</i> you, you do such <i>'citing</i>
+things!"</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CH_VII" id="CH_VII"></a>VII</h2>
+<h2><span class="smcap">The Ghost</span></h2>
+
+
+<p>William lay on the floor of the barn, engrossed in a book. This was a
+rare thing with William. His bottle of lemonade lay untouched by his
+side, and he even forgot the half-eaten apple which reposed in his
+hand. His jaws were arrested midway in the act of munching.</p>
+
+<p>"Our hero," he read, "was awakened about midnight by the sound of the
+rattling of chains. Raising himself on his arm he gazed into the
+darkness. About a foot from his bed he could discern a tall, white,
+faintly-gleaming figure and a ghostly arm which beckoned him."</p>
+
+<p>William's hair stood on end.</p>
+
+<p>"Crumbs!" he ejaculated.</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing perturbed," he continued to read, "our hero rose and followed
+the spectre through the long winding passages of the old castle.
+Whenever he hesitated, a white, luminous arm, hung around with ghostly
+chains, beckoned him on."</p>
+
+<p>"Gosh!" murmured the enthralled William. "I'd have bin scared!"</p>
+
+<p>"At the panel in the wall the ghost stopped, and silently the panel
+slid aside, revealing a flight of stone steps. Down this went the
+apparition followed by our intrepid hero. There was a small stone
+chamber at the bottom, and into this the rays of moonlight poured,
+revealing a skeleton in a sitting attitude beside a chest of golden
+sovereigns. The gold gleamed in the moonlight."</p>
+
+<p>"Golly!" gasped William, red with excitement.</p>
+
+<p>"William!"</p>
+
+<p>The cry came from somewhere in the sunny garden outside. William
+frowned sternly, took another bite of apple, and continued to read.</p>
+
+<p>"Our hero gave a cry of astonishment."</p>
+
+<p>"Yea, I'd have done that all right," agreed William.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>William!</i>"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, shut <i>up</i>!" called William, irritably, thereby revealing his
+hiding-place.</p>
+
+<p>His grown-up sister, Ethel, appeared in the doorway.</p>
+
+<p>"Mother wants you," she announced.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I can't come. I'm busy," said William, coldly, taking a draught
+of lemonade and returning to his book.</p>
+
+<p>"Cousin Mildred's come," continued his sister.</p>
+
+<p>William raised his freckled face from his book.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I can't help that, can I?" he said, with the air of one arguing
+patiently with a lunatic.</p>
+
+<p>Ethel shrugged her shoulders and departed.</p>
+
+<p>"He's reading some old book in the barn," he heard her announce, "and
+he says&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 316px;">
+<a href="images/fig14.jpg"><img src="images/fig14_t.jpg" width="316" height="400" alt="Ethel
+appeared in the doorway. &quot;Mother wants you,&quot; she announced." title="Ethel appeared
+in the doorway. &quot;Mother wants you,&quot; she announced." /></a><span class="caption">Ethel
+appeared in the doorway. &quot;Mother wants you,&quot; she announced.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Here he foresaw complications and hastily followed her.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I'm <i>comin'</i>, aren't I?" he said, "as fast as I can."</p>
+
+<p>Cousin Mildred was sitting on the lawn. She was elderly and very thin
+and very tall, and she wore a curious, long, shapeless garment of
+green silk with a golden girdle.</p>
+
+<p>"Dear child!" she murmured, taking the grimy hand that William held
+out to her in dignified silence.</p>
+
+<p>He was cheered by the sight of tea and hot cakes.</p>
+
+<p>Cousin Mildred ate little but talked much.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm living in <i>hopes</i> of a psychic revelation, dear," she said to
+William's mother. "<i>In hopes!</i> I've heard of wonderful experiences,
+but so far none&mdash;alas!&mdash;have befallen me. Automatic writing I have
+tried, but any communication the spirits may have sent me that way
+remained illegible&mdash;quite illegible."</p>
+
+<p>She sighed.</p>
+
+<p>William eyed her with scorn while he consumed reckless quantities of
+hot cakes.</p>
+
+<p>"I would <i>love</i> to have a psychic revelation," she sighed again.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, dear," murmured Mrs. Brown, mystified. "William, you've had
+enough."</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Enough?</i>" said William, in surprise. "Why I've only had&mdash;&mdash;" He
+decided hastily against exact statistics and in favour of vague
+generalities.</p>
+
+<p>"I've only had hardly any," he said, aggrievedly.</p>
+
+<p>"You've had <i>enough</i>, anyway," said Mrs. Brown firmly.</p>
+
+<p>The martyr rose, pale but proud.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, can I go then, if I can't have any more tea?"</p>
+
+<p>"There's plenty of bread and butter."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't want bread and butter," he said, scornfully.</p>
+
+<p>"Dear child!" murmured Cousin Mildred, vaguely, as he departed.</p>
+
+<p>He returned to the story and lemonade and apple, and stretched himself
+happily at full length in the shady barn.</p>
+
+<p>"But the ghostly visitant seemed to be fading away, and with a soft
+sigh was gone. Our hero, with a start of surprise, realised that he
+was alone with the gold and the skeleton. For the first time he
+experienced a thrill of cold fear and slowly retreated up the stairs
+before the hollow and, as it seemed, vindictive stare of the grinning
+skeleton."</p>
+
+<p>"I wonder wot he was grinnin' at?" said William.</p>
+
+<p>"But to his horror the door was shut, the panel had slid back. He had
+no means of opening it. He was imprisoned on a remote part of the
+castle, where even the servants came but rarely, and at intervals of
+weeks. Would his fate be that of the man whose bones gleamed white in
+the moonlight?"</p>
+
+<p>"Crumbs!" said William, earnestly.</p>
+
+<p>Then a shadow fell upon the floor of the barn, and Cousin Mildred's
+voice greeted him.</p>
+
+<p>"So you're here, dear? I'm just exploring your garden and thinking. I
+like to be alone. I see that you are the same, dear child!"</p>
+
+<p>"I'm readin'," said William, with icy dignity.</p>
+
+<p>"Dear boy! Won't you come and show me the garden and your favourite
+nooks and corners?"</p>
+
+<p>William looked at her thin, vague, amiable face, and shut his book
+with a resigned sigh.</p>
+
+<p>"All right," he said, laconically.</p>
+
+<p>He conducted her in patient silence round the kitchen garden and the
+shrubbery. She looked sadly at the house, with its red brick,
+uncompromisingly-modern appearance.</p>
+
+<p>"William, I wish your house was <i>old</i>," she said, sadly.</p>
+
+<p>William resented any aspersions on his house from outsiders.
+Personally he considered newness in a house an attraction, but, if
+anyone wished for age, then old his house should be.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Old</i>!" he ejaculated. "Huh! I guess it's <i>old</i> enough."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, is it?" she said, delighted. "Restored recently, I suppose?"</p>
+
+<p>"Umph," agreed William, nodding.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I'm so glad. I may have some psychic revelation here, then?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh yes," said William, judicially. "I shouldn't wonder."</p>
+
+<p>"William, have you ever had one?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well," said William, guardedly, "I dunno."</p>
+
+<p>His mysterious manner threw her into a transport.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course not to anyone. But to <i>me</i>&mdash;I'm one of the sympathetic! To
+me you may speak freely, William."</p>
+
+<p>William, feeling that his ignorance could no longer be hidden by
+words, maintained a discreet silence.</p>
+
+<p>"To me it shall be sacred, William. I will tell no one&mdash;not even your
+parents. I believe that children see&mdash;clouds of glory and all that,"
+vaguely. "With your unstained childish vision&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I'm eleven," put in William indignantly.</p>
+
+<p>"You see things that to the wise are sealed. Some manifestation, some
+spirit, some ghostly visitant&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh," said William, suddenly enlightened, "you talkin' about
+<i>ghosts</i>?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, ghosts, William."</p>
+
+<p>Her air of deference flattered him. She evidently expected great
+things of him. Great things she should have. At the best of times with
+William imagination was stronger than cold facts.</p>
+
+<p>He gave a short laugh.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, <i>ghosts</i>! Yes, I've seen some of 'em. I guess I <i>have</i>!"</p>
+
+<p>Her face lit up.</p>
+
+<p>"Will you tell me some of your experiences, William?" she said,
+humbly.</p>
+
+<p>"Well," said William, loftily, "you won't go <i>talkin'</i> about it, will
+you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, <i>no</i>."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I've seen 'em, you know. Chains an' all. And skeletons. And
+ghostly arms beckonin' an' all that."</p>
+
+<p>William was enjoying himself. He walked with a swagger. He almost
+believed what he said. She gasped.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, go on!" she said. "Tell me all."</p>
+
+<p>He went on. He soared aloft on the wings of imagination, his hands in
+his pockets, his freckled face puckered up in frowning mental effort.
+He certainly enjoyed himself.</p>
+
+<p>"If only some of it could happen to <i>me</i>," breathed his confidante.
+"Does it come to you at <i>nights</i>, William?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," nodded William. "Nights mostly."</p>
+
+<p>"I shall&mdash;watch to-night," said Cousin Mildred. "And you say the house
+is old?"</p>
+
+<p>"Awful old," said William, reassuringly.</p>
+
+<p>Her attitude to William was a relief to the rest of the family.
+Visitors sometimes objected to William.</p>
+
+<p>"She seems to have almost taken to William," said his mother, with a
+note of unflattering incredulity in her voice.</p>
+
+<p>William was pleased yet embarrassed by her attentions. It was a
+strange experience to him to be accepted by a grown-up as a
+fellow-being. She talked to him with interest and a certain humility,
+she bought him sweets and seemed pleased that he accepted them, she
+went for walks with him, and evidently took his constrained silence
+for the silence of depth and wisdom.</p>
+
+<p>Beneath his embarrassment he was certainly pleased and flattered. She
+seemed to prefer his company to that of Ethel. That was one in the
+eye for Ethel. But he felt that something was expected from him in
+return for all this kindness and attention. William was a sportsman.
+He decided to supply it. He took a book of ghost stories from the
+juvenile library at school, and read them in the privacy of his room
+at night. Many were the thrilling adventures which he had to tell to
+Cousin Mildred in the morning. Cousin Mildred's bump of credulity was
+a large one. She supplied him with sweets on a generous scale. She
+listened to him with awe and wonder.</p>
+
+<p>"William ... you are one of the elect, the chosen," she said, "one of
+those whose spirits can break down the barrier between the unseen
+world and ours with ease." And always she sighed and stroked back her
+thin locks, sadly. "Oh, how I wish that some experience would happen
+to <i>me</i>!"</p>
+
+<p>One morning, after the gift of an exceptionally large tin of toffee,
+William's noblest feelings were aroused. Manfully he decided that
+something <i>should</i> happen to her.</p>
+
+<p>Cousin Mildred slept in the bedroom above William's. Descent from one
+window to the other was easy, but ascent was difficult. That night
+Cousin Mildred awoke suddenly as the clock struck twelve. There was no
+moon, and only dimly did she discern the white figure that stood in
+the light of the window. She sat up, quivering with eagerness. Her
+short, thin little pigtail, stuck out horizontally from her head.
+Her mouth was wide open.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 317px;">
+<a href="images/fig15.jpg"><img src="images/fig15_t.jpg" width="317" height="400" alt="She sat up,
+quivering with eagerness. Her short, thin little pigtail stuck out horizontally from her head. Her
+mouth was wide open." title="She sat up, quivering with eagerness. Her short, thin little pigtail
+stuck out horizontally from her head. Her mouth was wide open." /></a>
+<span class="caption">She sat up, quivering with eagerness. Her short, thin little pigtail stuck
+out horizontally from her head. Her mouth was wide open.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"Oh!" she gasped.</p>
+
+<p>The white figure moved a step forward and coughed nervously.</p>
+
+<p>Cousin Mildred clasped her hands.</p>
+
+<p>"Speak!" she said, in a tense whisper. "Oh, speak! Some message! Some
+revelation."</p>
+
+<p>William was nonplussed. None of the ghosts he had read of had spoken.
+They had rattled and groaned and beckoned, but they had not spoken. He
+tried groaning and emitted a sound faintly reminiscent of a sea-sick
+voyager.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, <i>speak</i>!" pleaded Cousin Mildred.</p>
+
+<p>Evidently speech was a necessary part of this performance. William
+wondered whether ghosts spoke English or a language of their own. He
+inclined to the latter view and nobly took the plunge.</p>
+
+<p>"Honk. Yonk. Ponk," he said, firmly.</p>
+
+<p>Cousin Mildred gasped in wonder.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, explain," she pleaded, ardently. "Explain in our poor human
+speech. Some message&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>William took fright. It was all turning out to be much more
+complicated than he had expected. He hastily passed through the room
+and out of the door, closing it noisily behind him. As he ran along
+the passage came a sound like a crash of thunder. Outside in the
+passage were Cousin Mildred's boots, William's father's boots, and
+William's brother's boots, and into these charged William in his
+headlong retreat. They slid noisily along the polished wooden surface
+of the floor, ricochetting into each other as they went. Doors opened
+suddenly and William's father collided with William's brother in the
+dark passage, where they wrestled fiercely before they discovered each
+other's identity.</p>
+
+<p>"I heard that confounded noise and I came out&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"So did I."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, then, who <i>made</i> it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Who did?"</p>
+
+<p>"If it's that wretched boy up to any tricks again&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>William's father left the sentence unfinished, but went with
+determined tread towards his younger son's room. William was
+discovered, carefully spreading a sheet over his bed and smoothing it
+down.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Brown, roused from his placid slumbers, was a sight to make a
+brave man quail, but the glance that William turned upon him was
+guileless and sweet.</p>
+
+<p>"Did you make that confounded row kicking boots about the passage?"
+spluttered the man of wrath.</p>
+
+<p>"No, Father," said William, gently. "I've not bin kickin' no boots
+about."</p>
+
+<p>"Were you down on the lower landing just now?" said Mr. Brown, with
+compressed fury.</p>
+
+<p>William considered this question silently for a few seconds, then
+spoke up brightly and innocently.</p>
+
+<p>"I dunno, Father. You see, some folks walk in their sleep and when
+they wake up they dunno where they've bin. Why, I've heard of a man
+walkin' down a fire escape in his sleep, and then he woke up and
+couldn't think how he'd got to be there where he was. You see, he
+didn't know he'd walked down all them steps sound asleep, and&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Be <i>quiet</i>," thundered his father. "What in the name of&mdash;&mdash;what on
+earth are you doing making your bed in the middle of the night? Are
+you insane?"</p>
+
+<p>William, perfectly composed, tucked in one end of his sheet.</p>
+
+<p>"No Father, I'm not insane. My sheet just fell off me in the night and
+I got out to pick it up. I must of bin a bit restless, I suppose.
+Sheets come off easy when folks is restless in bed, and they don't
+know anythin' about it till they wake up jus' same as sleep walkin'.
+Why, I've heard of folks&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Be <i>quiet</i>&mdash;&mdash;!"</p>
+
+<p>At that moment William's mother arrived, placid as ever, in her
+dressing gown, carrying a candle.</p>
+
+<p>"Look at him," said Mr. Brown, pointing at the meek-looking William.</p>
+
+<p>"He plays Rugger up and down the passage with the boots all night and
+then he begins to make his bed. He's mad. He's&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>William turned his calm gaze upon him.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>I</i> wasn't playin' Rugger with the boots, Father," he said,
+patiently.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Brown laid her hand soothingly upon her husband's arm.</p>
+
+<p>"You know, dear," she said, gently, "a house is always full of noises
+at night. Basket chairs creaking&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Brown's face grew purple.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Basket chairs&mdash;&mdash;!</i>" he exploded, violently, but allowed himself to be
+led unresisting from the room.</p>
+
+<p>William finished his bed-making with his usual frown of concentration,
+then, lying down, fell at once into the deep sleep of childish
+innocence.</p>
+
+<p>But Cousin Mildred was lying awake, a blissful smile upon her lips.
+She, too, was now one of the elect, the chosen. Her rather deaf ears
+had caught the sound of supernatural thunder as her ghostly visitant
+departed, and she had beamed with ecstatic joy.</p>
+
+<p>"Honk," she murmured, dreamily. "Honk, Yonk, Ponk."</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 25%;' />
+
+<p>William felt rather tired the next evening. Cousin Mildred had
+departed leaving him a handsome present of a large box of chocolates.
+William had consumed these with undue haste in view of possible
+maternal interference. His broken night was telling upon his spirits.
+He felt distinctly depressed and saw the world through jaundiced
+eyes. He sat in the shrubbery, his chin in his hand, staring moodily
+at the adoring mongrel, Jumble.</p>
+
+<p>"It's a rotten world," he said, gloomily. "I've took a lot of trouble
+over her and she goes and makes me feel sick with chocolates."</p>
+
+<p>Jumble wagged his tail, sympathetically.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CH_VIII" id="CH_VIII"></a>VIII</h2>
+<h2><span class="smcap">The May King</span></h2>
+
+
+<p>William was frankly bored. School always bored him. He disliked facts,
+and he disliked being tied down to detail, and he disliked answering
+questions. As a politician a great future would have lain before him.
+William attended a mixed school because his parents hoped that
+feminine influence might have a mellowing effect upon his character.
+As yet the mellowing was not apparent. He was roused from his
+day-dreams by a change in the voice of Miss Dewhurst, his form
+mistress. It was evident that she was not talking about the exports of
+England (a subject in which William took little interest) any longer.</p>
+
+<p>"Children," she said brightly. "I want to have a little May Queen for
+the first of May. The rest of you must be her courtiers. I want you
+all to vote to-morrow. Put down on a piece of paper the name of the
+little girl you think would make the sweetest little Queen, and the
+rest of you shall be her swains and maidens."</p>
+
+<p>"We're goin' to have a May Queen," remarked William to his family at
+dinner, "an' I'm goin' to be a swain."</p>
+
+<p>His interest died down considerably when he discovered the meaning of
+the word swain.</p>
+
+<p>"Isn't it no sort of animal at all?" he asked indignantly.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I'm not going to be in it, then," he said when he heard that it
+was not.</p>
+
+<p>The next morning Evangeline Fish began to canvass for votes
+methodically. Evangeline Fish was very fair, and was dressed always in
+that shade of blue that shrieks aloud to the heavens and puts the
+skies to shame. She was considered the beauty of the form.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll give you two bull's eyes if you'll vote for me," she said to
+William.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Two!</i>" said William with scorn.</p>
+
+<p>"Six," she bargained.</p>
+
+<p>"All right," he said, "you can give me six bull's eyes if you want.
+There's nothing to stop you givin' me six bull's eyes if you want, is
+there? Not that I know of."</p>
+
+<p>"But you'll have to promise to put down my name on the paper if I give
+you six bull's eyes," she said suspiciously.</p>
+
+<p>"All right," said William. "I can easy promise that."</p>
+
+<p>Whereupon she handed over the six bull's eyes. William returned one as
+being under regulation size, and waited frowning till she replaced it
+by a larger one.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, you've promised," said Evangeline Fish. "They'll make you ill
+an' die if you break your promise on them."</p>
+
+<p>William kept his promise with true political address. He wrote "E.
+Fish&mdash;I <i>don't</i> think!" on his voting paper and his vote was
+disqualified. But Evangeline Fish was elected May Queen by an
+overwhelming majority. She was, after all, the beauty of the form and
+she always wore blue. And now she was to be May Queen. Her prestige
+was established for ever. "Little angel," murmured the elder girls.
+The small boys fought for her favours. William began to dislike her
+intensely. Her voice, and her smile, and her ringlets, and her blue
+dress began to jar upon his nerves. And when anything began to jar on
+William's nerves something always happened.</p>
+
+<p>It was not till about a week later that he noticed Bettine Franklin.
+Bettine was small and dark. There was nothing "angelic" about her.
+William had noticed her vaguely in school before and had hardly looked
+upon her as a distinct personality. But one recreation in the
+playground he stood leaning against the wall by himself, scowling at
+Evangeline Fish. She was surrounded by a crowd of admirers, and was
+prattling to them artlessly in her angelic voice.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm going to be dressed in white muslin with a blue sash. Blue suits
+me, you know. I'm so fair." She tossed back a ringlet. "One of you
+will have to hold my train and the rest must dance round me. I'm
+going to have a crown and&mdash;" She turned round in order to avoid the
+scowling gaze of William in the distance. William had discovered that
+his scowl annoyed her, and since then had given it little rest. But
+there was no satisfaction in scowling at the back of her well-curled
+head, so he relaxed his scowl and let his gaze wander round the
+playground. And it fell upon Bettine. Bettine was also standing by
+herself and gazing at Evangeline Fish. But she was not scowling. She
+was looking at Evangeline Fish with wistful envy. For Evangeline Fish
+was "angelic" and a May Queen, and she was neither of these things.
+William strolled over and lolled against the wall next to her.</p>
+
+<p>"'Ullo!" he said, without looking at her, for this change of position
+had brought him again within range of Evangeline Fish's eye, and he
+was once more simply one concentrated scowl.</p>
+
+<p>"'Ullo," murmured Bettine shyly and politely.</p>
+
+<p>"You like pink rock?" was William's next effort.</p>
+
+<p>"Um," said Bettine, nodding emphatically.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll give you some next time I buy some," said William munificently,
+"but I shan't be buying any for a long time," he added bitterly,
+"'cause an ole ball slipped out my hands on to our dining-room window
+before I noticed it yesterday."</p>
+
+<p>She nodded understandingly.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't mind!" she said sweetly. "I'll like you jus' as much if you
+don't ever give me any rock."</p>
+
+<p>William blushed.</p>
+
+<p>"I di'n't know you liked me," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"I do," she said fervently. "I like your face an' I like the things
+you say."</p>
+
+<p>William had forgotten to scowl. He was one flaming mixture of
+embarrassment and delight. He plunged his hands into his pockets and
+brought out two marbles, a piece of clay, and a broken toy gun.</p>
+
+<p>"You can have 'em all," he said in reckless generosity.</p>
+
+<p>"You keep 'em for me," said Bettine sweetly.</p>
+
+<p>"I hope you dance next me at the Maypole when Evangeline's Queen.
+Won't it be lovely?" and she sighed.</p>
+
+<p>"Lovely?" exploded William. "Huh!"</p>
+
+<p>"Won't you like it?" said Bettine wonderingly.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Me!</i>" exploded William again. "Dancin' round a pole! Round that ole
+girl?"</p>
+
+<p>"But she's so pretty."</p>
+
+<p>"No, she isn't," said William firmly, "she jus' isn't. Not <i>much</i>! I
+don' like her narsy shiny hair an' I don' like her narsy blue clothes,
+an' I don' like her narsy face, an' I don' like her narsy white shoes,
+nor her narsy necklaces, nor her narsy squeaky voice&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>He paused.</p>
+
+<p>Bettine drew a deep breath.</p>
+
+<p>"Go on some more," she said. "I <i>like</i> listening to you."</p>
+
+<p>"Do <i>you</i> like her?" said William.</p>
+
+<p>"No. She's awful <i>greedy</i>. Did you know she was awful <i>greedy</i>?"</p>
+
+<p>"I can <i>b'lieve</i> it," said William. "I can b'lieve <i>anything</i> of
+anyone wot talks in that squeaky voice."</p>
+
+<p>"Jus' watch her when she's eatin' cakes&mdash;she goes on eatin' and eatin'
+and eatin'."</p>
+
+<p>"She'll bust an' die one day then," prophesied William solemnly, "an'
+<i>I</i> shan't be sorry."</p>
+
+<p>"But she'll look ever so beautiful when she's a May Queen."</p>
+
+<p>"You'd look nicer," said William.</p>
+
+<p>Bettine's small pale face flamed.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh <i>no</i>," she said.</p>
+
+<p>"Would you like to be a May Queen?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, <i>yes</i>," she said.</p>
+
+<p>"Um," said William, and returned to the discomfiture of Evangeline
+Fish by his steady concentrated scowl.</p>
+
+<p>The next day he had the opportunity of watching her eating cakes. They
+met at the birthday party of a mutual classmate, and Evangeline Fish
+took her stand by the table and consumed cakes with a perseverance and
+determination worthy of a nobler cause. William accorded her a certain
+grudging admiration. Not once did she falter or faint. Iced cakes,
+cream cakes, pastries melted away before her and never did she lose
+her ethereal angelic appearance. Tight golden ringlets, blue eyes,
+faintly flushed cheeks, vivid pale blue dress remained immaculate and
+unruffled, and still she ate cakes. William watched her in amazement,
+forgetting even to scowl at her. Her capacity for cakes exceeded even
+William's, and his was no mean one.</p>
+
+<p>They had a rehearsal of the Maypole dance and crowning the next day.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
+<a href="images/fig16.jpg"><img src="images/fig16_t.jpg" width="400" height="364" alt="William
+accorded her a certain grudging admiration. Iced cakes, cream cakes, pastries melted away before
+her." title="William accorded her a certain grudging admiration. Iced cakes, cream cakes, pastries
+melted away before her." /></a><span class="caption">William accorded her a certain grudging
+admiration. Iced cakes, cream cakes, pastries melted away before her.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"I want William Brown to hold the queen's train," said Miss Dewhurst.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Me?</i>" ejaculated William in horror. "D'you mean <i>me</i>?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, dear. It's a great honour to be asked to hold little Queen
+Evangeline's train. I'm sure you feel very proud. You must be her
+little courtier."</p>
+
+<p>"Huh!" said William, transferring his scowl to Miss Dewhurst.</p>
+
+<p>Evangeline beamed. She wanted William's admiration. William was the
+only boy in the form who was not her slave. She smiled at William
+sweetly.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not <i>good</i> at holdin' trains," said William. "I don't <i>like</i>
+holdin' trains. I've never bin <i>taught</i> 'bout holdin' trains. I might
+do it wrong on the day an' spoil it all. I shan't like to spoil it
+all," he added virtuously.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, we'll have heaps of practices," said Miss Dewhurst brightly.</p>
+
+<p>As he was going Bettine pressed a small apple into his hand.</p>
+
+<p>"A present for you," she murmured. "I saved it from my dinner."</p>
+
+<p>He was touched.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll give you somethin' to-morrow," he said, adding hastily, "if I
+can find anythin'."</p>
+
+<p>They stood in silence till he had finished his apple.</p>
+
+<p>"I've left a lot on the core," he said in a tone of unusual
+politeness, handing it to her, "would you like to finish it?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, thank you. William, you'll look so nice holding her train."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't want to, an' I bet I <i>won't</i>! You don't <i>know</i> the things I
+can do," he said darkly.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, William!" she gasped in awe and admiration.</p>
+
+<p>"I'd hold your train if you was goin' to be queen," he volunteered.</p>
+
+<p>"I wouldn't want you to hold my train," she said earnestly.
+"I'd&mdash;I'd&mdash;I'd want you to be May King with me."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. Why don't they have May Kings?" said William, stung by this
+insult to his sex.</p>
+
+<p>"Why shouldn't there be a May King?"</p>
+
+<p>"I speck they <i>do</i>, really, only p'raps Miss Dewhurst doesn't know
+abut it."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, it doesn't seem sense not having May Kings, does it? I wun't
+mind bein' May King if you was May Queen."</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 25%;' />
+
+<p>The rehearsal was, on the whole, a failure.</p>
+
+<p>"William Brown, don't hold the train so high. No, not quite so low.
+Don't stand so near the Queen, William Brown. No, not so far
+away&mdash;you'll pull the train off. Walk when the Queen walks, William
+Brown, don't stand still. Sing up, please, train bearer. No, not quite
+so loud. That's deafening and not melodious."</p>
+
+<p>In the end he was degraded from the position of train-bearer to that
+of ordinary "swain." The "swains" were to be dressed in smocks and the
+"maidens" in print dresses, and the Maypole dance was to be performed
+round Evangeline Fish, who was to stand in queenly attire by the pole
+in the middle. All the village was to be invited.</p>
+
+<p>At the end of the rehearsal William came upon Bettine, once more
+gazing wistfully at Evangeline Fish, who was coquetting (with many
+tosses of the fair ringlets) before a crowd of admirers.</p>
+
+<p>"Isn't it lovely for her to be May Queen?" said Bettine.</p>
+
+<p>"She's a rotten one," said William. "I'm jolly glad <i>I've</i> not to hold
+up her rotten ole train an' listen to her narsy squeaky voice singin'
+close to, an' I'll give you a present to-morrow."</p>
+
+<p>He did. He found a centipede in the garden and pressed it into her
+hand on the way to school.</p>
+
+<p>"They're jolly int'restin'," he said. "Put it in a match-box and make
+holes for its breath and it'll live ever so long. It won't bite you if
+you hold it the right way."</p>
+
+<p>And because she loved William she took it without even a shudder.</p>
+
+<p>Evangeline Fish began to pursue William. She grudged him bitterly to
+Bettine. She pirouetted near him in her sky-blue garments, she tossed
+her ringlets about him. She ogled him with her pale blue eyes.</p>
+
+<p>And in the long school hours during which he dreamed at his desk, or
+played games with his friends, while highly-paid instructors poured
+forth their wisdom for his benefit, William evolved a plan.
+Unfortunately, like most plans, it required capital, and William had
+no capital. Occasionally William's elder brother Robert would supply
+a few shillings without inconvenient questions, but it happened that
+Robert was ignoring William's existence at that time. For Robert had
+(not for the first time) discovered his Ideal, and the Ideal had been
+asked to lunch the previous week. For days before Robert had made
+William's life miserable. He had objected to William's unbrushed hair
+and unmanicured hands, and untidy person, and noisy habits. He had
+bitterly demanded what She would think on being asked to a house where
+she might meet such an individual as William; he had insisted that
+William should be taught habits of cleanliness and silence before She
+came; he had hinted darkly that a man who had William for a brother
+was hampered considerably in his love affairs because She would think
+it was a queer kind of family where anyone like William was allowed to
+grow up. He had reserved some of his fervour for the cook. She must
+have a proper lunch&mdash;not stews and stuff they often had&mdash;there must be
+three vegetables and there must be cheese straws. Cook must learn to
+make better cheese straws. And William, having swallowed insults for
+three whole days, planned vengeance. It was a vengeance which only
+William could have planned or carried out. For only William could have
+seized a moment just before lunch when the meal was dished up and cook
+happened to be out of the kitchen to carry the principal dishes down
+to the coal cellar and conceal them beneath the best nuts.</p>
+
+<p>It is well to draw a veil over the next half-hour. Both William and
+the meal had vanished. Robert tore his hair and appealed vainly to the
+heavens. He hinted darkly at suicide. For what is cold tongue and
+coffee to offer to an Ideal? The meal was discovered during the
+afternoon in its resting-place and given to William's mongrel, Jumble,
+who crept about during the next few days in agonies of indigestion.
+Robert had bitterly demanded of William why he went about the world
+spoiling people's lives and ruining their happiness. He had implied
+that when William met with the One and Only Love of his Life he need
+look for no help or assistance from him (Robert), because he (William)
+had dashed to the ground his (Robert's) cup of happiness, because he'd
+never in his life met anyone before like Miss Laing, and never would
+again, and he (William) had simply condemned him to a lonely and
+miserable old age, because who'd want to marry anyone that asked them
+to lunch and then gave them coffee and cold tongue, and he'd never
+want to marry anyone else, because it was the One and Only Love of his
+Life, and he hoped he (William) would realise, when he was old enough
+to realise, what it meant to have your life spoilt and your happiness
+ruined all through coffee and tongue, because someone you'd never
+speak to again had hidden the lunch. Whence it came that William,
+optimist though he was, felt that any appeal to Robert for funds would
+be inopportune, to say the least of it.</p>
+
+<p>But Providence was on William's side for once. An old uncle came to
+tea and gave William five shillings.</p>
+
+<p>"Going to dance at a Maypole, I hear?" he chuckled.</p>
+
+<p>"P'raps," was all William said.</p>
+
+<p>His family were relieved by his meekness with regard to the May Day
+festival. Sometimes William made such a foolish fuss about being
+dressed up and performing in public.</p>
+
+<p>"You know, dear," said his mother, "it's a dear old festival, and
+quite an honour to take part in it, and a smock is quite a nice manly
+garment."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Mother," said William.</p>
+
+<p>The day was fine&mdash;a real May Day. The Maypole was fixed up in the
+field near the school, and the little performers were to change in the
+schoolroom.</p>
+
+<p>William went out with his brown paper parcel of stage properties under
+his arm and stood gazing up the road by which Evangeline Fish must
+come to the school. For Evangeline Fish would have to pass his gate.
+Soon he saw her, her pale blue radiant in the sun.</p>
+
+<p>"'Ullo!" he greeted her.</p>
+
+<p>She simpered. She had won him at last.</p>
+
+<p>"Waitin' to walk to the school with me, William?" she said.</p>
+
+<p>He still loitered.</p>
+
+<p>"You're awful early."</p>
+
+<p>"Am I? I thought I was late. I meant to be late. I don't want to be
+too early. I'm the most 'portant person, and I want to walk in after
+the others, then they'll all look at me."</p>
+
+<p>She tossed her tightly-wrought curls.</p>
+
+<p>"Come into our ole shed a minute," said William. "I've got a present
+for you."</p>
+
+<p>She blushed and ogled.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, <i>William</i>!" she said, and followed him into the wood-shed.</p>
+
+<p>"Look!" he said.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 373px;">
+<a href="images/fig18.jpg"><img src="images/fig18_t.jpg" width="373" height="400" alt="&quot;Have
+a lot,&quot; said William. &quot;They&#39;re all for you. Go on. Eat &#39;em all. You can eat
+an&#39; eat an&#39; eat.&quot;" title="&quot;Have a lot,&quot; said William. &quot;They&#39;re
+all for you. Go on. Eat &#39;em all. You can eat an&#39; eat an&#39; eat.&quot;" /></a>
+<span class="caption">&quot;Have a lot,&quot; said William. &quot;They&#39;re all for you. Go on.
+Eat &#39;em all. You can eat an&#39; eat an&#39; eat.&quot;</span>
+<br /></div>
+
+<p>His uncle's five shillings had been well expended. Rows of cakes lay
+round the shed, pastries, and sugar cakes, and iced cakes, and currant
+cakes.</p>
+
+<p>"Have a lot," said William. "They're all for you. Go on! Eat 'em all.
+You can eat an' eat an' eat. There's lots an' lots of time and they
+can't begin without you, can they?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, <i>William</i>!" she said.</p>
+
+<p>She gloated over them.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, may I?"</p>
+
+<p>"There's heaps of time," said William. "Go on! Eat them all!"</p>
+
+<p>Her greedy little eyes seemed to stand out of her head.</p>
+
+<p>"Oo!" she said in rapture.</p>
+
+<p>She sat down on the floor and began to eat, lost to everything but
+icing and currants and pastry. William made for the door, then he
+paused, gazed wistfully at the feast, stepped back, and, grabbing a
+cream bun in each hand, crept quietly away.</p>
+
+<p>Bettine in her print frock was at the door of the school.</p>
+
+<p>"Hurry up!" she said anxiously. "You're going to be late. The others
+are all out. They're waiting to begin. Miss Dewhurst's out there.
+They're all come but you an' the Queen. I stayed 'cause you asked me
+to stay to help you."</p>
+
+<p>He came in and shut the door.</p>
+
+<p>"You're goin' to be May Queen," he announced firmly.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Me?</i>" she said in amazement.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. An' I'm goin' to be King."</p>
+
+<p>He unwrapped his parcel.</p>
+
+<p>"Look!" he said.</p>
+
+<p>He had ransacked his sister's bedroom. Once Ethel had been to a fancy
+dress dance as a Fairy. Over Bettine's print frock he drew a crumpled
+gauze slip with wings, torn in several places. On her brow he placed a
+tinsel crown at a rakish angle. And she quivered with happiness.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, how lovely!" she said. "How lovely! How lovely!"</p>
+
+<p>His own preparations were simpler. He tied a red sash that he had
+taken off his sister's hat over his right shoulder and under his left
+arm on the top of his smock. Someone had once given him a small 'bus
+conductor's cap with a toy set of tickets and clippers. He placed the
+cap upon his head with its peak over one eye. It was the only official
+headgear he had been able to procure. Then he took a piece of burnt
+cork from his parcel and solemnly drew a fierce and military moustache
+upon his cheek and lip. To William no kind of theatricals was complete
+without a corked moustache.</p>
+
+<p>Then he took Bettine by the hand and led her out to the Maypole.</p>
+
+<p>The dancers were all waiting holding the ribbons. The audience was
+assembled and a murmur of conversation was rising from it. It ceased
+abruptly as William and Bettine appeared. William's father, mother and
+sister were in the front row. Robert was not there. Robert had
+declined to come to anything in which that little wretch was to
+perform. He'd jolly well had enough of that little wretch to last his
+lifetime, thank you very much.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
+<a href="images/fig17.jpg"><img src="images/fig17_t.jpg" width="400" height="358"
+alt="William and Bettine stepped solemnly hand in hand upon the little platform which
+had been provided for the May Queen." title="William and Bettine stepped solemnly hand
+in hand upon the little platform which had been provided for the May Queen." /></a>
+<span class="caption">William and Bettine stepped solemnly hand in hand upon the little
+platform which had been provided for the May Queen.</span>
+<br /></div>
+
+<p>William and Bettine stepped solemnly hand in hand upon the little
+platform which had been provided for the May Queen.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Dewhurst, who was chatting amicably to the parents till the last
+of her small performers should appear, seemed suddenly turned to
+stone, with mouth gaping and eyes wide. The old fiddler, who was
+rather short-sighted, struck up the strains, and the dancers began to
+dance. The audience relaxed, leaning back in their chairs to enjoy the
+scene. Miss Dewhurst was still frozen. There were murmured comments.
+"How curious to have that boy there! A sort of attendant, I suppose."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, perhaps he's something allegorical. A sort of pageant. Good Luck
+or something. It's not quite the sort of thing I expected, I must
+admit."</p>
+
+<p>"What do you think of the Queen's dress? I always thought Miss
+Dewhurst had better taste. Rather tawdry, I call it."</p>
+
+<p>"I think the moustache is a mistake. It gives quite a common look to
+the whole thing. I wonder who he's meant to be? Pan, do you think?"
+uncertainly.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, no, nothing so <i>pagan</i>, I hope," said an elderly matron,
+horrified. "He's that Brown boy, you know. There always seems to be
+something queer about anything he's in. I've noticed it often. But I
+<i>hope</i> he's meant to be something more Christian than Pan, though one
+never knows in these days," she added darkly.</p>
+
+<p>William's sister had recognised her possessions, and was gasping in
+anger.</p>
+
+<p>William's father, who knew William, was smiling sardonically.</p>
+
+<p>William's mother was smiling proudly.</p>
+
+<p>"You're always running down William," she said to the world in
+general, "but look at him now. He's got a very important part, and he
+said nothing about it at home. I call it very nice and modest of him.
+And what a dear little girl."</p>
+
+<p>Bettine, standing on the platform with William's hand holding hers and
+the Maypole dancers dancing round her, was radiant with pride and
+happiness.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 25%;' />
+
+<p>And Evangeline Fish in the wood-shed was just beginning the last
+currant cake.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CH_IX" id="CH_IX"></a>IX</h2>
+<h2><span class="smcap">The Revenge</span></h2>
+
+
+<p>William was a scout. The fact was well known. There was no one within
+a five-mile radius of William's home who did not know it. Sensitive
+old ladies had fled shuddering from their front windows when William
+marched down the street singing (the word is a euphemism) his scout
+songs in his strong young voice. Curious smells emanated from the
+depth of the garden where William performed mysterious culinary
+operations. One old lady whose cat had disappeared looked at William
+with dour suspicion in her eye whenever he passed. Even the return of
+her cat a few weeks later did not remove the hostility from her gaze
+whenever it happened to rest upon William.</p>
+
+<p>William's family had welcomed the suggestion of William's becoming a
+scout.</p>
+
+<p>"It will keep him out of mischief," they had said.</p>
+
+<p>They were notoriously optimistic where William was concerned.</p>
+
+<p>William's elder brother only was doubtful.</p>
+
+<p>"You know what William is," he said, and in that dark saying much was
+contained.</p>
+
+<p>Things went fairly smoothly for some time. He took the scouts' law of
+a daily deed of kindness in its most literal sense. He was to do one
+(and one only) deed of kindness a day. There were times when he forced
+complete strangers, much to their embarrassment, to be the unwilling
+recipients of his deed of kindness. There were times when he answered
+any demand for help with a cold: "No, I've done it to-day."</p>
+
+<p>He received with saint-like patience the eloquence of his elder sister
+when she found her silk scarf tied into innumerable knots.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, they're jolly <i>good</i> knots," was all he said.</p>
+
+<p>He had been looking forward to the holidays for a long time. He was to
+"go under canvas" at the end of the first week.</p>
+
+<p>The first day of the holidays began badly. William's father had been
+disturbed by William, whose room was just above and who had spent most
+of the night performing gymnastics as instructed by his scout-master.</p>
+
+<p>"No, he didn't <i>say</i> do it at nights, but he said do it. He said it
+would make us grow up strong men. Don't you <i>want</i> me to grow up a
+strong man? He's ever so strong an' <i>he</i> did 'em. Why shun't I?"</p>
+
+<p>His mother found a pan with the bottom burnt out and at once accused
+William of the crime. William could not deny it.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I was makin' sumthin', sumthin' he'd told us an' I forgot it.
+Well, I've <i>got</i> to make things if I'm a scout. I didn't <i>mean</i> to
+forget it. I won't forget it next time. It's a rotten pan, anyway, to
+burn itself into a hole jus' for that."</p>
+
+<p>At this point William's father received a note from a neighbour whose
+garden adjoined William's and whose life had been rendered intolerable
+by William's efforts upon his bugle.</p>
+
+<p>The bugle was confiscated.</p>
+
+<p>Darkness descended upon William's soul.</p>
+
+<p>"Well," he muttered, "I'm goin' under canvas next week an' I'm jolly
+<i>glad</i> I'm goin'. P'r'aps you'll be sorry when I'm gone."</p>
+
+<p>He went out into the garden and stood gazing moodily into space, his
+hands in the pocket of his short scout trousers, for William dressed
+on any and every occasion in his official costume.</p>
+
+<p>"Can't even have the bugle," he complained to the landscape. "Can't
+even use their rotten ole pans. Can't tie knots in any of their ole
+things. Wot's the good of <i>bein'</i> a scout?"</p>
+
+<p>His indignation grew and with it a desire to be avenged upon his
+family.</p>
+
+<p>"I'd like to <i>do</i> somethin'," he confided to a rose bush with a
+ferocious scowl. "Somethin' jus' to show 'em."</p>
+
+<p>Then his face brightened. He had an idea.</p>
+
+<p>He'd get lost. He'd get really lost. They'd be sorry then alright.
+They'd p'r'aps think he was dead and they'd be sorry then alright. He
+imagined their relief, their tearful apologies when at last he
+returned to the bosom of his family. It was worth trying, anyway.</p>
+
+<p>He set off cheerfully down the drive. He decided to stay away for
+lunch and tea and supper, and to return at dusk to a penitent,
+conscience-stricken family.</p>
+
+<p>He first made his way to a neighbouring wood, where he arranged a pile
+of twigs for a fire, but they refused to light, even with the aid of
+the match that William found adhering to a piece of putty in the
+recess of one of his pockets.</p>
+
+<p>Slightly dispirited, he turned his attention to his handkerchief and
+tied knots in it till it gave way under the strain. William's
+handkerchiefs, being regularly used to perform the functions of
+blotting paper among other duties not generally entrusted to
+handkerchiefs, were always in the last stages of decrepitude.</p>
+
+<p>He felt rather bored and began to wonder whether it was lunch-time or
+not.</p>
+
+<p>He then "scouted" the wood and by his wood lore traced three distinct
+savage tribes' passage through the wood and found the tracks of
+several elephants. He engaged in deadly warfare with about
+half-a-dozen lions, then tired of the sport. It must be about
+lunch-time. He could imagine Ethel, his sister, hunting for him wildly
+high and low with growing pangs of remorse. She'd wish she'd made less
+fuss over that old scarf. His mother would recall the scene over the
+pan and her heart would fail her. His father would think with shame
+of his conduct in the matter of the bugle.</p>
+
+<p>"Poor William! How cruel we were! How different we shall be if only he
+comes home ...!"</p>
+
+<p>He could almost hear the words. Perhaps his mother was weeping now.
+His father&mdash;wild-eyed and white-lipped&mdash;was pacing his study, waiting
+for news, eager to atone for his unkindness to his missing son.
+Perhaps he had the bugle on the table ready to give back to him.
+Perhaps he'd even bought him a new one.</p>
+
+<p>He imagined the scene of his return. He would be nobly forgiving. He
+would accept the gift of the new bugle without a word of reproach. His
+heart thrilled at the thought of it.</p>
+
+<p>He was getting jolly hungry. It must be after lunch-time. But it would
+spoil it all to go home too early.</p>
+
+<p>Here he caught sight of a minute figure regarding him with a steady
+gaze and holding a paper bag in one hand.</p>
+
+<p>William stared down at him.</p>
+
+<p>"Wot you dressed up like that for?" said the apparition, with a touch
+of scorn in his voice.</p>
+
+<p>William looked down at his sacred uniform and scowled. "I'm a scout,"
+he said loftily.</p>
+
+<p>"'Cout?" repeated the apparition, with an air of polite boredom.
+"Wot's your name?"</p>
+
+<p>"William."</p>
+
+<p>"Mine's Thomas. Will you catch me a wopse? Look at my wopses!"</p>
+
+<p>He opened the bag slightly and William caught sight of a crowd of
+wasps buzzing about inside the bag.</p>
+
+<p>"Want more," demanded the infant. "Want lots more. Look. Snells!"</p>
+
+<p>He brought out a handful of snails from a miniature pocket, and put
+them on the ground.</p>
+
+<p>"Watch 'em put their horns out! Watch 'em walk. Look! They're
+<i>walkin'</i>. They're <i>walkin'</i>."</p>
+
+<p>His voice was a scream of ecstasy. He took them up and returned them
+to their pocket. From another he drew out a wriggling mass.</p>
+
+<p>"Wood-lice!" he explained, casually. "Got worms in 'nother pocket."</p>
+
+<p>He returned the wood-lice to his pocket except one, which he held
+between a finger and thumb laid thoughtfully against his lip. "Want
+wopses now. You get 'em for me."</p>
+
+<p>William roused himself from his bewilderment.</p>
+
+<p>"How&mdash;how do you catch 'em?" he said.</p>
+
+<p>"Wings," replied Thomas. "Get hold of their wings an' they don't
+sting. Sometimes they do, though," he added casually. "Then your hands
+go big."</p>
+
+<p>A wasp settled near him, and very neatly the young naturalist picked
+him up and put him in his paper prison.</p>
+
+<p>"Now you get one," he ordered William.</p>
+
+<p>William determined not to be outshone by this minute but dauntless
+stranger. As a wasp obligingly settled on a flower near him, he put
+out his hand, only to withdraw it with a yell of pain and apply it to
+his mouth.</p>
+
+<p>"Oo&mdash;ou!" he said. "Crumbs!"</p>
+
+<p>Thomas emitted a peal of laughter.</p>
+
+<p>"You stung?" he said. "Did it sting you? <i>Funny</i>!"</p>
+
+<p>William's expression of rage and pain was exquisite to him.</p>
+
+<p>"Come on, boy!" he ordered at last. "Let's go somewhere else."</p>
+
+<p>William's bewildered dignity made a last stand.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>You</i> can go," he said. "I'm playin' by myself."</p>
+
+<p>"All right!" agreed Thomas. "You play by you'self an' me play by
+myself, an' we'll be together&mdash;playin' by ourselves."</p>
+
+<p>He set off down a path, and meekly William followed.</p>
+
+<p>It must be jolly late&mdash;almost tea-time.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm hungry," said Thomas suddenly. "Give me some brekfust."</p>
+
+<p>"I haven't got any," said William irritably.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, find some," persisted the infant.</p>
+
+<p>"I can't. There isn't any to find."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, buy some!"</p>
+
+<p>"I haven't any money."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, buy some money."</p>
+
+<p>Goaded, William turned on him.</p>
+
+<p>"Go away!" he bellowed.</p>
+
+<p>Thomas's blue eyes, beneath a mop of curls, met his coldly.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't talk so loud," he said sternly. "There's some blackberries
+there. You can get me some blackberries."</p>
+
+<p>William began to walk away, but Thomas trotted by his side.</p>
+
+<p>"There!" he persisted. "Jus' where I'm pointing. Lovely great big suge
+ones. Get 'em for my brekfust."</p>
+
+<p>Reluctantly the scout turned to perform his deed of kindness.</p>
+
+<p>Thomas consumed blackberries faster than William could gather them.</p>
+
+<p>"Up there," he commanded. "No, the one right up there I want. I want
+it <i>kick</i>. I've etten all the others."</p>
+
+<p>William was scratched and breathless, and his shirt was torn when at
+last the rapacious Thomas was satisfied. Then he partook of a little
+refreshment himself, while Thomas turned out his pockets.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll let 'em go now," he said.</p>
+
+<p>One of his wood-lice, however, stayed motionless where he put it.</p>
+
+<p>"Wot's the matter with it?" said William, curiously.</p>
+
+<p>"I 'speck me's the matter wif it," said Thomas succinctly. "Now, get
+me some lickle fishes, an' tadpoles an' water sings," he went on
+cheerfully.</p>
+
+<p>William turned round from his blackberry-bush.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I won't," he said decidedly. "I've had enough!"</p>
+
+<p>"You've had 'nuff brekfust," said Thomas sternly. "I've found a
+lickle tin for the sings, so be <i>kick</i>. Oo, here's a fly! A green fly!
+It's sittin' on my finger. Does it like me 'cause it's sittin' on my
+finger?"</p>
+
+<p>"No," said William, turning a purple-stained countenance round
+scornfully.</p>
+
+<p>It must be nearly night. He didn't want to be too hard on them, to
+make his mother ill or anything. He wanted to be as kind as possible.
+He'd forgive them at once when he got home. He'd ask for one or two
+things he wanted, as well as the new bugle. A new penknife, and an
+engine with a real boiler.</p>
+
+<p>"Waffor does it not like me?" persisted Thomas.</p>
+
+<p>William was silent. Question and questioner were beneath contempt.</p>
+
+<p>"Waffor does it not like me?" he shouted stridently.</p>
+
+<p>"Flies don't like people, silly."</p>
+
+<p>"Waffor not?" retorted Thomas.</p>
+
+<p>"They don't know anything about them."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I'll <i>tell</i> it about me. My name's Thomas," he said to the fly
+politely. "Now does it like me?"</p>
+
+<p>William groaned. But the fly had now vanished, and Thomas once more
+grew impatient.</p>
+
+<p>"Come <i>on</i>!" he said. "Come on an' find sings for me."</p>
+
+<p>William's manly spirit was by this time so far broken that he followed
+his new acquaintance to a neighbouring pond, growling threateningly
+but impotently.</p>
+
+<p>"Now," commanded his small tyrant, "take off your boots an' stockings
+an' go an' find things for me."</p>
+
+<p>"Take off yours," growled William, "an' find things for yourself."</p>
+
+<p>"No," said Thomas, "crockerdiles might be there an' bite my toes. An
+pittanopotamuses might be there. If you don't go in, I'll scream an'
+scream an' <i>scream</i>."</p>
+
+<p>William went in.</p>
+
+<p>He walked gingerly about the muddy pond. Thomas watched him critically
+from the bank.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't like your <i>hair</i>," he said confidingly.</p>
+
+<p>William growled.</p>
+
+<p>He caught various small swimming objects in the tin, and brought them
+to the bank for inspection.</p>
+
+<p>"I want more'n that," said Thomas calmly.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, you won't <i>get</i> it," retorted William.</p>
+
+<p>He began to put on his boots and stockings, wondering desperately how
+to rid himself of his unwanted companion. But Fate solved the problem.
+With a loud cry a woman came running down the path.</p>
+
+<p>"Tommy," she said. "My little darling Tommy. I thought you were lost!"
+She turned furiously to William. "You ought to be ashamed of
+yourself," she said. "A great boy of your age leading a little child
+like this into mischief! If his father was here, he'd show you. You
+ought to know better! And you a scout."</p>
+
+<p>William gasped.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 324px;">
+<a href="images/fig19.jpg"><img src="images/fig19_t.jpg" width="324" height="400"
+alt="She turned furiously to William. &quot;You ought to be ashamed of yourself,&quot;
+she said." title="She turned furiously to William. &quot;You ought to be ashamed
+of yourself,&quot; she said." /></a><span class="caption">She turned furiously to William.
+&quot;You ought to be ashamed of yourself,&quot; she said.</span>
+<br /></div>
+
+<p>"Well!" he said. "An' I've bin doin' deeds of kindness on him all
+morning. I've&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>She turned away indignantly, holding Thomas's hand.</p>
+
+<p>"You're never to go with that nasty rough boy again, darling," she
+said.</p>
+
+<p>"Got lots of wopses an' some fishes," murmured Thomas contentedly.</p>
+
+<p>They disappeared down the path. With a feeling of depression and
+disillusionment William turned to go home.</p>
+
+<p>Then his spirits rose. After all, he'd got rid of Thomas, and he was
+going home to a contrite family. It must be about supper-time. It
+would be getting dark soon. But it still stayed light a long time now.
+It wouldn't matter if he just got in for supper. It would have given
+them time to think things over. He could see his father speaking
+unsteadily, and holding out his hand.</p>
+
+<p>"My boy ... let bygones be bygones ... if there is anything you
+want...."</p>
+
+<p>His father had never said anything of this sort to him yet, but, by a
+violent stretch of imagination, he could just conceive it.</p>
+
+<p>His mother, of course, would cry over him, and so would Ethel.</p>
+
+<p>"Dear William ... do forgive us ... we have been so miserable since
+you went away ... we will never treat you so again."</p>
+
+<p>This again was unlike the Ethel he knew, but sorrow has a refining
+effect on all characters.</p>
+
+<p>He entered the gate self-consciously. Ethel was at the front-door. She
+looked at his torn shirt and mud-caked knees.</p>
+
+<p>"You'd better hurry if you're going to be ready for lunch," she said
+coldly.</p>
+
+<p>"Lunch?" faltered William. "What time is it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Ten to one. Father's in, so I warn you," she added unpleasantly.</p>
+
+<p>He entered the house in a dazed fashion. His mother was in the hall.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>William!</i>" she said impatiently. "Another shirt torn! You really are
+careless. You'll have to stop being a scout if that's the way you
+treat your clothes. And <i>look</i> at your knees!"</p>
+
+<p>Pale and speechless, he went towards the stairs. His father was coming
+out of the library smoking a pipe. He looked at his son grimly.</p>
+
+<p>"If you aren't downstairs <i>cleaned</i> by the time the lunch-bell goes,
+my son," he said, "you won't see that bugle of yours this side of
+Christmas."</p>
+
+<p>William swallowed.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, father," he said meekly.</p>
+
+<p>He went slowly upstairs to the bathroom.</p>
+
+<p>Life was a rotten show.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CH_X" id="CH_X"></a>X</h2>
+<h2><span class="smcap">The Helper</span></h2>
+
+
+<p>The excitement began at breakfast. William descended slightly late,
+and, after receiving his parents' reproaches with an air of weary
+boredom, ate his porridge listlessly. He had come to the conclusion
+that morning that there was a certain monotonous sameness about life.
+One got up, and had one's breakfast, and went to school, and had one's
+dinner, and went to school, and had one's tea, and played, and had
+one's supper, and went to bed. Even the fact that to-day was a
+half-term holiday did not dispel his depression. <i>One</i> day's holiday!
+What good was <i>one</i> day? We all have experienced such feelings.</p>
+
+<p>Half abstractedly he began to listen to his elders' conversation.</p>
+
+<p>"They promised to be here by <i>nine</i>," his mother was saying. "I do
+hope they won't be late!"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, it's not much good their coming if the other house isn't ready,
+is it?" said William's grown-up sister Ethel. "I don't believe they've
+even finished <i>painting</i>!"</p>
+
+<p>"I'm so sorry it's William's half-term holiday," sighed Mrs. Brown.
+"He'll be frightfully in the way."</p>
+
+<p>William's outlook on life brightened considerably.</p>
+
+<p>"They comin' removin' this <i>morning</i>?" he inquired cheerfully.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, DO try not to hinder them, William."</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Me</i>?" he said indignantly. "I'm goin' to <i>help</i>!"</p>
+
+<p>"If William's going to help," remarked his father, "thank Heaven <i>I</i>
+shan't be here. Your assistance, William, always seems to be even more
+devastating in its results than your opposition!"</p>
+
+<p>William smiled politely. Sarcasm was always wasted on William.</p>
+
+<p>"Well," he said, rising from the table, "I'd better go an' be gettin'
+ready to help."</p>
+
+<p>Ten minutes later Mrs. Brown, coming out of the kitchen from her
+interview with the cook, found to her amazement that the steps of the
+front door were covered with small ornaments. As she stood staring
+William appeared from the drawing-room staggering under the weight of
+a priceless little statuette that had been the property of Mr. Brown's
+great grandfather.</p>
+
+<p>"WILLIAM!" she gasped.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm gettin' all the little things ready for 'em jus' to carry
+straight down. If I put everything on the steps they don't need come
+into the house at all. You <i>said</i> you didn't want 'em trampin' in
+dirty boots!"</p>
+
+<p>It took a quarter of an hour to replace them. Over the fragments of a
+blue delf bowl Mrs. Brown sighed deeply.</p>
+
+<p>"I wish you'd broken <i>anything</i> but this, William."</p>
+
+<p>"Well," he excused himself, "you said things <i>do</i> get broken removin'.
+You said so <i>yourself</i>! I didn't break it on purpose. It jus' got
+broken removin'."</p>
+
+<p>At this point the removers arrived.</p>
+
+<p>There were three of them. One was very fat and jovial, and one was
+thin and harassed-looking, and a third wore a sheepish smile and
+walked with a slightly unsteady gait. They made profuse apologies for
+their lateness.</p>
+
+<p>"You'd better begin with the dining-room," said Mrs. Brown. "Will you
+pack the china first? William, get out of the <i>way</i>!"</p>
+
+<p>She left them packing, assisted by William. William carried the things
+to them from the sideboard cupboards.</p>
+
+<p>"What's your names?" he asked, as he stumbled over a glass bowl that
+he had inadvertently left on the hearth-rug. His progress was further
+delayed while he conscientiously picked up the fragments. "Things <i>do</i>
+get broken removin'," he murmured.</p>
+
+<p>"Mine is Mister Blake and 'is is Mister Johnson, and 'is is Mister
+Jones."</p>
+
+<p>"Which is Mr. Jones? The one that walks funny?"</p>
+
+<p>They shook with herculean laughter, so much so that a china cream jug
+slipped from Mr. Blake's fingers and lay in innumerable pieces round
+his boot. He kicked it carelessly aside.</p>
+
+<p>"Yus," he said, bending anew to his task, "'im wot walks funny."</p>
+
+<p>"Why's he walk funny?" persisted William. "Has he hurt his legs?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yus," said Blake with a wink. "'E 'urt 'em at the Blue Cow comin'
+'ere."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Jones' sheepish smile broadened into a guffaw.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, you rest," said William sympathetically. "You lie down on the
+sofa an' rest. <i>I'll</i> help, so's you needn't do <i>anything</i>!"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Jones grew hilarious.</p>
+
+<p>"Come on!" he said. "My eye! This young gent's all <i>roight</i>, 'e is.
+You lie down an' rest, 'e says! Well, 'ere goes!"</p>
+
+<p>To the huge delight of his companions, he stretched himself at length
+upon the chesterfield and closed his eyes. William surveyed him with
+pleasure.</p>
+
+<p>"That's right," he said. "I'll&mdash;I'll show you my dog when your legs
+are better. I've gotter <i>fine</i> dog!"</p>
+
+<p>"What sort of a dog?" said Mr. Blake, resting from his labours to ask
+the question.</p>
+
+<p>"He's no <i>partic'lar</i> sort of a dog," said William honestly, "but he's
+a jolly fine dog. You should see him do tricks!"</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 288px;">
+<a href="images/fig20.jpg"><img src="images/fig20_t.jpg" width="288" height="400"
+alt="William surveyed him with pleasure. &quot;I&#39;ll show you my dog when your
+legs are better,&quot; he said." title="William surveyed him with pleasure. &quot;I&#39;ll
+show you my dog when your legs are better,&quot; he said." /></a>
+<span class="caption">William surveyed him with pleasure. &quot;I&#39;ll show you my dog
+when your legs are better,&quot; he said.</span>
+<br /></div>
+
+<p>"Well, let's 'ave a look at 'im. Fetch 'im art."</p>
+
+<p>William, highly delighted, complied, and Jumble showed off his best
+tricks to an appreciative audience of two (Mr. Jones had already
+succumbed to the drowsiness that had long been creeping over him and
+was lying dead to the world on the chesterfield).</p>
+
+<p>Jumble begged for a biscuit, he walked (perforce, for William's hand
+firmly imprisoned his front ones) on his hind legs, he leapt over
+William's arm. He leapt into the very centre of an old Venetian glass
+that was on the floor by the packing-case and cut his foot slightly on
+a piece of it, but fortunately suffered no ill-effects.</p>
+
+<p>William saw consternation on Mr. Johnson's face and hastened to gather
+the pieces and fling them lightly into the waste-paper basket.</p>
+
+<p>"It's all right," he said soothingly. "She <i>said</i> things get broken
+removin'."</p>
+
+<p>When Mrs. Brown entered the room ten minutes later, Mr. Jones was
+still asleep, Jumble was still performing, and Messrs. Blake and
+Johnson were standing in negligent attitudes against the wall
+appraising the eager Jumble with sportsmanlike eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"'E's no breed," Mr. Blake was saying, "but 'e's orl <i>roight</i>. I'd
+loik to see 'im arfter a rat. I bet 'e'd&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Seeing Mrs. Brown, he hastily seized a vase from the mantel-piece and
+carried it over to the packing case, where he appeared suddenly to be
+working against time. Mr. Johnson followed his example.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Brown's eyes fell upon Mr. Jones and she gasped.</p>
+
+<p>"Whatever&mdash;&mdash;" she began.</p>
+
+<p>"'E's not very well 'm," explained Mr. Blake obsequiously. "'E'll be
+orl roight when 'e's slep' it orf. 'E's always orl roight when 'e's
+slep' 'it orf."</p>
+
+<p>"He's hurt his legs," explained William. "He hurt his legs at the Blue
+Cow. He's jus' <i>restin'</i>!"</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Brown swallowed and counted twenty to herself. It was a practice
+she had acquired in her youth for use in times when words crowded upon
+her too thick and fast for utterance.</p>
+
+<p>At last she spoke with unusual bitterness.</p>
+
+<p>"Need he rest with his muddy boots on my chesterfield?"</p>
+
+<p>At this point Mr. Jones awoke from sleep, hypnotised out of it by her
+cold eye.</p>
+
+<p>He was profuse in his apologies. He believed he had fainted. He had
+had a bad headache, brought on probably by exposure to the early
+morning sun. He felt much better after his faint. He regretted having
+fainted on to the lady's sofa. He partially brushed off the traces of
+his dirty boots with an equally dirty hand.</p>
+
+<p>"You've done <i>nothing</i> in this room," said Mrs. Brown. "We shall
+<i>never</i> get finished. William, come away! I'm sure you're hindering
+them."</p>
+
+<p>"Me?" said William in righteous indignation. "<i>Me?</i> I'm <i>helpin'</i>!"</p>
+
+<p>After what seemed to Mrs. Brown to be several hours they began on the
+heavy furniture. They staggered out with the dining-room sideboard,
+carrying away part of the staircase with it in transit. Mrs. Brown,
+with a paling face, saw her beloved antique cabinet dismembered
+against the doorpost, and watched her favourite collapsible card-table
+perform a thorough and permanent collapse. Even the hat-stand from the
+hall was devoid of some pegs when it finally reached the van.</p>
+
+<p>"This is simply breaking my heart," moaned Mrs. Brown.</p>
+
+<p>"Where's William?" said Ethel, gloomily, looking round.</p>
+
+<p>"'Sh! I don't know. He disappeared a few minutes ago. I don't know
+<i>where</i> he is. I only hope he'll stay there!"</p>
+
+<p>The removers now proceeded to the drawing-room and prepared to take
+out the piano. They tried it every way. The first way took a piece out
+of the doorpost, the second made a dint two inches deep in the piano,
+the third knocked over the grandfather clock, which fell with a
+resounding crash, breaking its glass, and incidentally a tall china
+plant stand that happened to be in its line of descent.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Brown sat down and covered her face with her hands.</p>
+
+<p>"It's like some dreadful <i>nightmare</i>!" she groaned.</p>
+
+<p>Messrs. Blake, Johnson and Jones paused to wipe the sweat of honest
+toil from their brows.</p>
+
+<p>"I dunno <i>'ow</i> it's to be got out," said Mr. Blake despairingly.</p>
+
+<p>"It got in!" persisted Mrs. Brown. "If it got in it can get out."</p>
+
+<p>"We'll 'ave another try," said Mr. Blake with the air of a hero
+leading a forlorn hope. "Come on, mites."</p>
+
+<p>This time was successful and the piano passed safely into the hall,
+leaving in its wake only a dislocated door handle and a torn chair
+cover. It then passed slowly and devastatingly down the hall and
+drive.</p>
+
+<p>The next difficulty was to get it into the van. Messrs. Blake, Johnson
+and Jones tried alone and failed. For ten minutes they tried alone and
+failed. Between each attempt they paused to mop their brows and throw
+longing glances towards the Blue Cow, whose signboard was visible down
+the road.</p>
+
+<p>The gardener, the cook, the housemaid, and Ethel all gave their
+assistance, and at last, with a superhuman effort, they raised it to
+the van.</p>
+
+<p>They then all rested weakly against the nearest support and gasped for
+breath.</p>
+
+<p>"Well," said Mr. Jones, looking reproachfully at the mistress of the
+house, "I've never 'andled a pianner&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>At this moment a well-known voice was heard in the recesses of the
+van, behind the piano and sideboard and hat-stand.</p>
+
+<p>"Hey! let me out! What you've gone blockin' up the van for? I can't
+get out!"</p>
+
+<p>There was a horror-stricken silence. Then Ethel said sharply:</p>
+
+<p>"What did you go <i>in</i> for?"</p>
+
+<p>The mysterious voice came again with a note of irritability.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I was <i>restin'</i>. I mus' have some rest, mustn't I? I've been
+helpin' all mornin'."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, couldn't you <i>see</i> we were putting things in?"</p>
+
+<p>The unseen presence spoke again.</p>
+
+<p>"No, I can't. I wasn't lookin'!"</p>
+
+<p>"You can't get out, William," said Mrs. Brown desperately. "We can't
+move everything again. You must just stop there till it's unpacked.
+We'll try to push your lunch in to you."</p>
+
+<p>There was determination in the voice that answered, "I want to get
+out! I'm <i>going</i> to get out!"</p>
+
+<p>There came tumultuous sounds&mdash;the sound of the ripping of some
+material, of the smashing of glass and of William's voice softly
+ejaculating "Crumbs! that ole lookin' glass gettin' in the way!"</p>
+
+<p>"You'd better take out the piano again," said Mrs. Brown wanly. "It's
+the only thing to do."</p>
+
+<p>With straining, and efforts, and groans, and a certain amount of
+destruction, the piano was eventually lowered again to the ground.
+Then the sideboard and hat-stand were moved to one side, and finally
+there emerged from the struggle&mdash;William and Jumble. Jumble's coat was
+covered with little pieces of horsehair, as though from the interior
+of a chair. William's jersey was torn from shoulder to hem. He looked
+stern and indignant.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 295px;">
+<a href="images/fig21.jpg"><img src="images/fig21_t.jpg" width="295" height="400"
+alt="William&#39;s jersey was torn from shoulder to hem. He looked stern and indignant."
+title="William&#39;s jersey was torn from shoulder to hem. He looked stern and indignant." /></a>
+<span class="caption">William&#39;s jersey was torn from shoulder to hem. He looked stern
+and indignant.</span>
+<br /></div>
+
+<p>"A nice thing to do!" he began bitterly. "Shuttin' me up in that ole
+van. How d'you expect me to breathe, shut in with ole bits of
+furniture. Folks can't live without air, can they? A nice thing if
+you'd found me <i>dead</i>!"</p>
+
+<p>Emotion had deprived his audience of speech for the time being.</p>
+
+<p>With a certain amount of dignity he walked past them into the house
+followed by Jumble.</p>
+
+<p>It took another quarter of an hour to replace the piano. As they were
+making the final effort William came out of the house.</p>
+
+<p>"Here, <i>I'll</i> help!" he said, and laid a finger on the side. His
+presence rather hindered their efforts, but they succeeded in spite of
+it. William, however, was under the impression that his strength alone
+had wrought the miracle. He put on an outrageous swagger.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm jolly strong," he confided to Mr. Blake. "I'm stronger than most
+folk."</p>
+
+<p>Here the removers decided that it was time for their midday repast and
+retired to consume it in the shady back garden. All except Mr. Jones,
+who said he would go down the road for a drink of lemonade. William
+said that there was lemonade in the larder and offered to fetch it,
+but Mr. Jones said hastily that he wanted a special sort. He had to be
+very particular what sort of lemonade he drank.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Brown and Ethel sat down to a scratch meal in the library.
+William followed his two new friends wistfully into the garden.</p>
+
+<p>"William! Come to lunch!" called Mrs. Brown.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, leave him alone, Mother," pleaded Ethel. "Let us have a little
+peace."</p>
+
+<p>But William did not absent himself for long.</p>
+
+<p>"I want a red handkerchief," he demanded loudly from the hall.</p>
+
+<p>There was no response.</p>
+
+<p>He appeared in the doorway.</p>
+
+<p>"I say, I want a red handkerchief. Have you gotter red handkerchief,
+Mother?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, dear."</p>
+
+<p>"Have you Ethel?"</p>
+
+<p>"NO!"</p>
+
+<p>"All right," said William aggrievedly. "You needn't get mad, need you?
+I'm only askin' for a red handkerchief. I don't want a red
+handkerchief off you if you haven't <i>got</i> it, do I?"</p>
+
+<p>"William, go <i>away</i> and shut the door."</p>
+
+<p>William obeyed. Peace reigned throughout the house and garden for the
+next half-hour. Then Mrs. Brown's conscience began to prick her.</p>
+
+<p>"William must have something to eat, dear. Do go and find him."</p>
+
+<p>Ethel went out to the back garden. A scene of happy restfulness met
+her gaze. Mr. Blake reclined against one tree consuming bread and
+cheese, while a red handkerchief covered his knees. Mr. Johnson
+reclined against another tree, also consuming bread and cheese, while
+a red handkerchief covered his knees. William leant against a third
+tree consuming a little heap of scraps collected from the larder,
+while on his knees also reposed what was apparently a red
+handkerchief. Jumble sat in the middle catching with nimble, snapping
+jaws dainties flung to him from time to time by his circle of
+admirers.</p>
+
+<p>Ethel advanced nearer and inspected William's red handkerchief with
+dawning horror in her face. Then she gave a scream.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>William</i>, that's my silk scarf! It was for a hat. I've only just
+bought it. Oh, mother, do <i>do</i> something to William! He's taken my new
+silk scarf&mdash;the one I'd got to trim my Leghorn. He's the most <i>awful</i>
+boy. I don't think&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Brown came out hastily to pacify her. William handed the silk
+scarf back to its rightful owner.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I'm <i>sorry</i>. I <i>thought</i> it was a red handkerchief. It <i>looked</i>
+like a red handkerchief. Well, how could I <i>know</i> it wasn't a red
+handkerchief? I've given it her back. It's all right, Jumble's only
+bit one end of it. And that's only jam what dropped on it. Well, it'll
+<i>wash</i>, won't it? Well, I've said I'm sorry.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't get much <i>thanks</i>," William continued bitterly. "Me givin' up
+my half holiday to helpin' you removin', an' I don't get much
+<i>thanks</i>!"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, William," said Mrs. Brown, "you can go to the new house with
+the first van. He'll be less in the way there," she confided
+distractedly to the world in general.</p>
+
+<p>William was delighted with this proposal. At the new house there was a
+fresh set of men to unload the van, and there was the thrill of making
+their acquaintance.</p>
+
+<p>Then the front gate was only just painted and bore a notice "Wet
+Paint." It was, of course, incumbent upon William to test personally
+the wetness of the paint. His trousers bore testimony to the testing
+to their last day, in spite of many applications of turpentine. Jumble
+also tested it, and had in fact to be disconnected with the front gate
+by means of a pair of scissors. For many weeks the first thing that
+visitors to the Brown household saw was a little tuft of Jumble's hair
+adorning the front gate.</p>
+
+<p>William then proceeded to "help" to the utmost of his power. He
+stumbled up from the van to the house staggering under the weight of a
+medicine cupboard, and leaving a trail of broken bottles and little
+pools of medicine behind. Jumble sampled many of the latter and became
+somewhat thoughtful.</p>
+
+<p>It was found that the door of a small bedroom at the top of the stairs
+was locked, and this fact (added to Mr. Jones' failure to return from
+his lemonade) rather impeded the progress of the unpackers.</p>
+
+<p>"Brike it open," suggested one.</p>
+
+<p>"Better not."</p>
+
+<p>"Per'aps the key's insoide," suggested another brightly.</p>
+
+<p>William had one of his brilliant ideas.</p>
+
+<p>"Tell you what I'll do," he said eagerly and importantly. "I'll climb
+up to the roof an' get down the chimney an' open it from the inside."</p>
+
+<p>They greeted the proposal with guffaws.</p>
+
+<p>They did not know William.</p>
+
+<p>It was growing dusk when Mrs. Brown and Ethel and the second van load
+appeared.</p>
+
+<p>"What is that on the gate?" said Ethel, stooping to examine the part
+of Jumble's coat that brightened up the dulness of the black paint.</p>
+
+<p>"It's that <i>dog</i>!" she said.</p>
+
+<p>Then came a ghost-like cry, apparently from the heavens.</p>
+
+<p>"Mother!"</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Brown raised a startled countenance to the skies. There seemed to
+be nothing in the skies that could have addressed her.</p>
+
+<p>Then she suddenly saw a small face peering down over the coping of the
+roof. It was a face that was very frightened, under a superficial
+covering of soot. It was William's face.</p>
+
+<p>"I can't get down," it said hoarsely.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Brown's heart stood still.</p>
+
+<p>"Stay where you are, William," she said faintly. "Don't <i>move</i>."</p>
+
+<p>The entire staff of removers was summoned. A ladder was borrowed from
+a neighbouring garden and found to be too short. Another was fetched
+and fastened to it. William, at his dizzy height, was growing
+irritable.</p>
+
+<p>"I can't stay up here for <i>ever</i>," he said severely.</p>
+
+<p>At last he was rescued by his friend Mr. Blake and brought down to
+safety. His account was confused.</p>
+
+<p>"I wanted to <i>help</i>. I wanted to open that door for 'em, so I climbed
+up by the scullery roof, an' the ivy, an' the drain-pipe, an' I tried
+to get down the chimney. I didn't know which one it was, but I tried
+'em all an' they were all too little, an' I tried to get down by the
+ivy again but I couldn't, so I waited till you came an' hollered out.
+I wasn't scared," he said, fixing them with a stern eye. "I wasn't
+scared a bit. I jus' wanted to get down. An' this ole black chimney
+stuff tastes beastly. No, I'm all right," he ended, in answer to
+tender inquiries. "I'll go on helpin'."</p>
+
+<p>He was with difficulty persuaded to retire to bed at a slightly
+earlier hour than usual.</p>
+
+<p>"Well," he confessed, "I'm a bit tired with helpin' all day."</p>
+
+<p>Soon after he had gone Mr. Brown and Robert arrived.</p>
+
+<p>"And how have things gone to-day?" said Mr. Brown cheerfully.</p>
+
+<p>"Thank heaven William goes to school to-morrow," said Ethel devoutly.</p>
+
+<p>Upstairs in his room William was studying himself in the glass&mdash;torn
+jersey, paint-stained trousers, blackened face.</p>
+
+<p>"Well," he said with a deep sigh of satisfaction, "I guess I've jolly
+well <span class="smcap">helped</span> to-day!"</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CH_XI" id="CH_XI"></a>XI</h2>
+<h2><span class="smcap">William And The Smuggler</span></h2>
+
+
+<p>William's family were going to the seaside for February. It was not an
+ideal month for the seaside, but William's father's doctor had ordered
+him a complete rest and change.</p>
+
+<p>"We shall have to take William with us, you know," his wife had said
+as they discussed plans.</p>
+
+<p>"Good heavens!" groaned Mr. Brown. "I thought it was to be a <i>rest</i>
+cure."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, but you know what he is," his wife urged. "I daren't leave him
+with anyone. Certainly not with Ethel. We shall have to take them
+both. Ethel will help with him."</p>
+
+<p>Ethel was William's grown-up sister.</p>
+
+<p>"All right," agreed her husband finally. "You can take all
+responsibility. I formally disown him from now till we get back. I
+don't care <i>what</i> trouble he lands you in. You know what he is and you
+deliberately take him away with me on a rest cure!"</p>
+
+<p>"It can't be helped dear," said his wife mildly.</p>
+
+<p>William was thrilled by the news. It was several years since he had
+been at the seaside.</p>
+
+<p>"Will I be able to go swimmin'?"</p>
+
+<p>"It <i>won't</i> be too cold! Well, if I wrap up warm, will I be able to go
+swimmin'?"</p>
+
+<p>"Can I catch fishes?"</p>
+
+<p>"Are there lots of smugglers smugglin' there?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I'm only <i>askin'</i>, you needn't get mad!"</p>
+
+<p>One afternoon Mrs. Brown missed her best silver tray and searched the
+house high and low for it wildly, while dark suspicions of each
+servant in turn arose in her usually unsuspicious breast.</p>
+
+<p>It was finally discovered in the garden. William had dug a large hole
+in one of the garden beds. Into the bottom of this he had fitted the
+tray and had lined the sides with bricks. He had then filled it with
+water, and taking off his shoes and stockings stepped up and down his
+narrow pool. He was distinctly aggrieved by Mrs. Brown's reproaches.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I was practisin' paddlin', ready for goin' to the seaside. I
+didn't <i>mean</i> to rune your tray. You talk as if I <i>meant</i> to rune your
+tray. I was only practisin' paddlin'."</p>
+
+<p>At last the day of departure arrived. William was instructed to put
+his things ready on his bed, and his mother would then come and pack
+for him. He summoned her proudly over the balusters after about twenty
+minutes.</p>
+
+<p>"I've got everythin' ready, Mother."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Brown ascended to his room.</p>
+
+<p>Upon his bed was a large pop-gun, a football, a dormouse in a cage, a
+punchball on a stand, a large box of "curios," and a buckskin which
+was his dearest possession and had been presented to him by an uncle
+from South Africa.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Brown sat down weakly on a chair.</p>
+
+<p>"You can't possibly take any of these things," she said faintly but
+firmly.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, you <i>said</i> put my things on the bed for you to pack an' I've
+put them on the bed, an' now you say&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I meant clothes."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, <i>clothes</i>!" scornfully. "I never thought of <i>clothes</i>."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, you can't take any of these things, anyway."</p>
+
+<p>William hastily began to defend his collection of treasures.</p>
+
+<p>"I <i>mus'</i> have the pop-gun 'cause you never know. There may be pirates
+an' smugglers down there, an' you can <i>kill</i> a man with a pop-gun if
+you get near enough and know the right place, an' I might need it. An'
+I <i>must</i> have the football to play on the sands with, an' the
+punchball to practise boxin' on, an' I <i>must</i> have the dormouse,
+'cause&mdash;'cause to feed him, an' I <i>must</i> have this box of things and
+this skin to show to folks I meet down at the seaside, 'cause they're
+int'restin'."</p>
+
+<p>But Mrs. Brown was firm, and William reluctantly yielded.</p>
+
+<p>In a moment of weakness, finding that his trunk was only three-quarter
+filled by his things, she slipped in his beloved buckskin, while
+William himself put the pop-gun inside when no one was looking.</p>
+
+<p>They had been unable to obtain a furnished house, so had to be content
+with a boarding house. Mr. Brown was eloquent on the subject.</p>
+
+<p>"If you're deliberately turning that child loose into a boarding-house
+full, presumably, of quiet, inoffensive people, you deserve all you
+get. It's nothing to do with me. I'm going to have a rest cure. I've
+disowned him. He can do as he likes."</p>
+
+<p>"It can't be helped, dear," said Mrs. Brown mildly.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Brown had engaged one of the huts on the beach chiefly for
+William's use, and William proudly furnished its floor with the
+buckskin.</p>
+
+<p>"It was killed by my uncle," he announced to the small crowd of
+children at the door who had watched with interest his painstaking
+measuring of the floor in order to place his treasure in the exact
+centre. "He killed it dead&mdash;jus' like this."</p>
+
+<p>William had never heard the story of the death of the buck, and
+therefore had invented one in which he had gradually come to confuse
+himself with his uncle in the r&ocirc;le of hero.</p>
+
+<p>"It was walkin' about an' I&mdash;he&mdash;met it. I hadn't got no gun, and it
+sprung at me an' I caught hold of its neck with one hand an' I broke
+off its horns with the other, an' I knocked it over. An' it got up an'
+ran at me&mdash;him&mdash;again, an' I jus' tripped it up with my foot an' it
+fell over again, an' then I jus' give it one big hit with my fist
+right on its head, an' it killed it an' it died!"</p>
+
+<p>There was an incredulous gasp.</p>
+
+<p>Then there came a clear, high voice from behind the crowd.</p>
+
+<p>"Little boy, you are not telling the truth."</p>
+
+<p>William looked up into a thin, spectacled face.</p>
+
+<p>"I wasn't tellin' it to you," he remarked, wholly unabashed.</p>
+
+<p>A little girl with dark curls took up the cudgels quite needlessly in
+William's defence.</p>
+
+<p>"He's a very <i>brave</i> boy to do all that," she said indignantly. "So
+don't you go <i>saying</i> things to him."</p>
+
+<p>"Well," said William, flattered but modest, "I didn't say I did it,
+did I? I said my uncle&mdash;well, partly my uncle."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Percival Jones looked down at him in righteous wrath.</p>
+
+<p>"You're a very wicked little boy. I'll tell your father&mdash;er&mdash;I'll tell
+your sister."</p>
+
+<p>For Ethel was approaching in the distance and Mr. Percival Jones was
+in no way loth to converse with her.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 293px;">
+<a href="images/fig22.jpg"><img src="images/fig22_t.jpg" width="293" height="400" alt="&quot;You&#39;re a
+very wicked little boy!&quot; said Mr. Percival Jones." title="&quot;You&#39;re a very wicked
+little boy!&quot; said Mr. Percival Jones." /></a>
+<span class="caption">&quot;You&#39;re a very wicked little boy!&quot; said Mr. Percival Jones.</span>
+<br /></div>
+
+<p>Mr. Percival Jones was a thin, pale, &aelig;sthetic would-be poet who lived
+and thrived on the admiration of the elderly ladies of his
+boarding-house, and had done so for the past ten years. Once he had
+published a volume of poems at his own expense. He lived at the same
+boarding-house as the Browns, and had seen Ethel in the distance to
+meals. He had admired the red lights in her dark hair and the blue
+of her eyes, and had even gone so far as to wonder whether she
+possessed the solid and enduring qualities which he would require of
+one whom in his mind he referred to as his "future spouse."</p>
+
+<p>He began to walk down the beach with her.</p>
+
+<p>"I should like to speak to you&mdash;er&mdash;about your brother, Miss Brown,"
+he began, "if you can spare me the time, of course. I trust I do not
+er&mdash;intrude or presume. He is a charming little man but&mdash;er&mdash;I
+fear&mdash;not veracious. May I accompany you a little on your way? I
+am&mdash;er&mdash;much attracted to your&mdash;er&mdash;family. I&mdash;er&mdash;should like to know
+you all better. I am&mdash;er&mdash;deeply attached to your&mdash;er&mdash;little brother,
+but grieved to find that he does not&mdash;er&mdash;adhere to the truth in his
+statements. I&mdash;er&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Miss Brown's blue eyes were dancing with merriment.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, don't you worry about William," she said. "He's <i>awful</i>. It's
+much best just to leave him alone. Isn't the sea gorgeous to-day?"</p>
+
+<p>They walked along the sands.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile William had invited his small defender into his hut.</p>
+
+<p>"You can look round," he said graciously. "You've seen my skin what
+I&mdash;he&mdash;killed, haven't you? This is my gun. You put a cork in there
+and it comes out hard when you shoot it. It would kill anyone,"
+impressively, "if you did it near enough to them and at the right
+place. An' I've got a dormouse, an' a punchball, an' a box of things,
+an' a football, but they wouldn't let me bring them," bitterly.</p>
+
+<p>"It's a <i>lovely</i> skin," said the little girl. "What's your name?"</p>
+
+<p>"William. What's yours?"</p>
+
+<p>"Peggy."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, let's be on a desert island, shall we? An' nothin' to eat nor
+anything, shall we? Come on."</p>
+
+<p>She nodded eagerly.</p>
+
+<p>"How <i>lovely</i>!"</p>
+
+<p>They wandered out on to the promenade, and among a large crowd of
+passers-by bemoaned the lonely emptiness of the island and scanned the
+horizon for a sail. In the far distance on the cliffs could be seen
+the figures of Mr. Percival Jones and William's sister, walking slowly
+away from the town.</p>
+
+<p>At last they turned towards the hut.</p>
+
+<p>"We must find somethin' to eat," said William firmly. "We can't let
+ourselves starve to death."</p>
+
+<p>"Shrimps?" suggested Peggy cheerfully.</p>
+
+<p>"We haven't got nets," said William. "We couldn't save them from the
+wreck."</p>
+
+<p>"Periwinkles?"</p>
+
+<p>"There aren't any on this island. I know! Seaweed! An' we'll cook it."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, how <i>lovely</i>!"</p>
+
+<p>He gathered up a handful of seaweed and they entered the hut, leaving
+a white handkerchief tied on to the door to attract the attention of
+any passing ship. The hut was provided with a gas ring and William,
+disregarding his family's express injunction, lit this and put on a
+saucepan filled with water and seaweed.</p>
+
+<p>"We'll pretend it's a wood fire," he said. "We couldn't make a real
+wood fire out on the prom. They'd stop us. So we'll pretend this is.
+An' we'll pretend we saved a saucepan from the wreck."</p>
+
+<p>After a few minutes he took off the pan and drew out a long green
+strand.</p>
+
+<p>"You eat it first," he said politely.</p>
+
+<p>The smell of it was not pleasant. Peggy drew back.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, no, you first!"</p>
+
+<p>"No, you," said William nobly. "You look hungrier than me."</p>
+
+<p>She bit off a piece, chewed it, shut her eyes and swallowed.</p>
+
+<p>"Now you," she said with a shade of vindictiveness in her voice.
+"You're not going to not have any."</p>
+
+<p>William took a mouthful and shivered.</p>
+
+<p>"I think it's gone bad," he said critically.</p>
+
+<p>Peggy's rosy face had paled.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm going home," she said suddenly.</p>
+
+<p>"You can't go home on a desert island," said William severely.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I'm going to be rescued then," she said.</p>
+
+<p>"I think I am, too," said William.</p>
+
+<p>It was lunch time when William arrived at the boarding-house. Mr.
+Percival Jones had moved his place so as to be nearer Ethel. He was
+now convinced that she was possessed of every virtue his future
+"spouse" could need. He conversed brightly and incessantly during the
+meal. Mr. Brown grew restive.</p>
+
+<p>"The man will drive me mad," he said afterwards. "Bleating away!
+What's he bleating about anyway? Can't you stop him bleating, Ethel?
+You seem to have influence. Bleat! Bleat! Bleat! Good Lord! And me
+here for a <i>rest</i> cure!"</p>
+
+<p>At this point he was summoned to the telephone and returned
+distraught.</p>
+
+<p>"It's an unknown female," he said. "She says that a boy of the name of
+William from this boarding-house has made her little girl sick by
+forcing her to eat seaweed. She says it's brutal. Does anyone <i>know</i>
+I'm here for a rest cure? Where is the boy? Good heavens! Where is the
+boy?"</p>
+
+<p>But William, like Peggy, had retired from the world for a space. He
+returned later on in the afternoon, looking pale and chastened. He
+bore the reproaches of his family in stately silence.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Percival Jones was in great evidence in the drawing-room.</p>
+
+<p>"And soon&mdash;er&mdash;soon the&mdash;er&mdash;Spring will be with us once more," he was
+saying in his high-pitched voice as he leant back in his chair and
+joined the tips of his fingers together. "The Spring&mdash;ah&mdash;the Spring!
+I have a&mdash;er&mdash;little effort I&mdash;er&mdash;composed on&mdash;er&mdash;the Coming of
+Spring&mdash;I&mdash;er&mdash;will read to you some time if you will&mdash;ah&mdash;be kind
+enough to&mdash;er&mdash;criticise&mdash;ah&mdash;impartially."</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Criticise</i>!" they chorused. "It will be above criticism. Oh, do read
+it to us, Mr. Jones."</p>
+
+<p>"I will&mdash;er&mdash;this evening." His eyes wandered to the door, hoping and
+longing for his beloved's entrance. But Ethel was with her father at a
+matin&eacute;e at the Winter Gardens and he looked and longed in vain. In
+spite of this, however, the springs of his eloquence did not run dry,
+and he held forth ceaselessly to his little circle of admirers.</p>
+
+<p>"The simple&mdash;ah&mdash;pleasures of nature. How few of us&mdash;alas!&mdash;have
+the&mdash;er&mdash;gift of appreciating them rightly. This&mdash;er&mdash;little seaside
+hamlet with its&mdash;er&mdash;sea, its&mdash;er&mdash;promenade, its&mdash;er&mdash;Winter Gardens!
+How beautiful it is! How few appreciate it rightly."</p>
+
+<p>Here William entered and Mr. Percival Jones broke off abruptly. He
+disliked William.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! here comes our little friend. He looks pale. Remorse, my young
+friend? Ah, beware of untruthfulness. Beware of the beginnings of a
+life of lies and deception." He laid a hand on William's head and cold
+shivers ran down William's spine. "'Be good, sweet child, and let who
+will be clever,' as the poet says." There was murder in William's
+heart.</p>
+
+<p>At that minute Ethel entered.</p>
+
+<p>"No," she snapped. "I sat next a man who smelt of bad tobacco. I
+<i>hate</i> men who smoke bad tobacco."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Jones assumed an expression of intense piety.</p>
+
+<p>"I may boast," he said sanctimoniously, "that I have never thus soiled
+my lips with drink or smoke ..."</p>
+
+<p>There was an approving murmur from the occupants of the drawing-room.</p>
+
+<p>William had met his father in the passage outside the drawing-room.
+Mr. Brown was wearing a hunted expression.</p>
+
+<p>"Can I go into the drawing-room?" he said bitterly, "or is he bleating
+away in there?"</p>
+
+<p>They listened. From the drawing-room came the sound of a high-pitched
+voice.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Brown groaned.</p>
+
+<p>"Good Lord!" he moaned. "And I'm here for a <i>rest</i> cure and he comes
+bleating into every room in the house. Is the smoking-room safe? Does
+he smoke?"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Percival Jones was feeling slightly troubled in his usually
+peaceful conscience. He could honestly say that he had never smoked.
+He could honestly say that he had never drank. But in his bedroom
+reposed two bottles of brandy, purchased at the advice of an aunt "in
+case of emergencies." In his bedroom also was a box of cigars that he
+had bought for a cousin's birthday gift, but which his conscience had
+finally forbidden to present. He decided to consign these two emblems
+of vice to the waves that very evening.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile William had returned to the hut and was composing a tale of
+smugglers by the light of a candle. He was much intrigued by his
+subject. He wrote fast in an illegible hand in great sloping lines,
+his brows frowning, his tongue protruding from his mouth as it always
+did in moments of mental strain.</p>
+
+<p>His sympathies wavered between the smugglers and the representatives
+of law and order. His orthography was the despair of his teachers.</p>
+
+<p><i>"'Ho,' sez Dick Savage,"</i> he wrote. <i>"Ho! Gadzooks! Rol in the
+bottles of beer up the beech. Fill your pockets with the baccy from
+the bote. Quick, now! Gadzooks! Methinks we are observed!" He glared
+round in the darkness. In less time than wot it takes to rite this he
+was srounded by pleese-men and stood, proud and defiant, in the light
+of there electrick torches wot they had wiped quick as litening from
+their busums.</i></p>
+
+<p><i>"'Surrender!' cried one, holding a gun at his brain and a drorn sord
+at his hart, 'Surrender or die!'</i></p>
+
+<p><i>"'Never,' said Dick Savage, throwing back his head, proud and
+defiant, 'Never. Do to me wot you will, you dirty dogs, I will never
+surrender. Soner will I die.'</i></p>
+
+<p><i>"One crule brute hit him a blo on the lips and he sprang back,
+snarling with rage. In less time than wot it takes to rite this he had
+sprang at his torturer's throte and his teeth met in one mighty bite.
+His torturer dropped ded and lifless at his feet.</i></p>
+
+<p><i>"'Ho!' cried Dick Savage, throwing back his head, proud and defiant
+again, 'So dies any of you wot insults my proud manhood. I will meet
+my teeth in your throtes.'</i></p>
+
+<p><i>"For a minit they stood trembling, then one, bolder than the rest,
+lept forward and tide Dick Savage's hands with rope behind his back.
+Another took from his pockets bottles of beer and tobacco in large
+quantities.</i></p>
+
+<p><i>"'Ho!' they cried exulting. 'Ho! Dick Savage the smugler caught at
+last!'</i></p>
+
+<p><i>"Dick Savage gave one proud and defiant laugh, and, bringing his tide
+hands over his hed he bit the rope with one mighty bite.</i></p>
+
+<p><i>"'Ho! ho!' he cried, throwing back his proud hed, 'Ho, ho! You dirty
+dogs!'</i></p>
+
+<p><i>"Then, draining to the dregs a large bottle of poison he had
+concealed in his busum he fell ded and lifless at there feet.'"</i></p>
+
+<hr style='width: 25%;' />
+
+<p>There was a timid knock at the door and William, scowling impatiently,
+rose to open it.</p>
+
+<p>"What d'you want?" he said curtly.</p>
+
+<p>A little voice answered from the dusk.</p>
+
+<p>"It's me&mdash;Peggy. I've come to see how you are, William. They don't
+know I've come. I was awful sick after that seaweed this morning,
+William."</p>
+
+<p>William looked at her with a superior frown.</p>
+
+<p>"Go away," he said, "I'm busy."</p>
+
+<p>"What you doing?" she said, poking her little curly head into the
+doorway.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm writin' a tale."</p>
+
+<p>She clasped her hands.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, how lovely! Oh, William, do read it to me. I'd <i>love</i> it!"</p>
+
+<p>Mollified, he opened the door and she took her seat on his buckskin on
+the floor, and William sat by the candle, clearing his throat for a
+minute before he began. During the reading she never took her eyes off
+him. At the end she drew a deep breath.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, William, it's beautiful. William, are there smugglers now?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes. Millions," he said carelessly.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Here</i>?"</p>
+
+<p>"Of course there are!"</p>
+
+<p>She went to the door and looked out at the dusk.</p>
+
+<p>"I'd love to see one. What do they smuggle, William?"</p>
+
+<p>He came and joined her at the door, walking with a slight swagger as
+became a man of literary fame.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, beer an' cigars an' things. <i>Millions</i> of them."</p>
+
+<p>A furtive figure was passing the door, casting suspicious glances to
+left and right. He held his coat tightly round him, clasping something
+inside it.</p>
+
+<p>"I expect that's one," said William casually.</p>
+
+<p>They watched the figure out of sight.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly William's eyes shone.</p>
+
+<p>"Let's stalk him an' catch him," he said excitedly. "Come on. Let's
+take some weapons." He seized his pop-gun from a corner. "You take&mdash;"
+he looked round the room&mdash;"You take the wastepaper basket to put over
+his head an'&mdash;an' pin down his arms an' somethin' to tie him up!&mdash;I
+know&mdash;the skin I&mdash;he&mdash;shot in Africa. You can tie its paws in front of
+him. Come on! Let's catch him smugglin'."</p>
+
+<p>He stepped out boldly into the dusk with his pop-gun, followed by the
+blindly obedient Peggy carrying the wastepaper basket in one hand and
+the skin in the other.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Percival Jones was making quite a little ceremony of consigning
+his brandy and cigars to the waves. He had composed "a little effort"
+upon it which began,</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">"<i>O deeps, receive these objects vile,</i></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;"><i>Which nevermore mine eyes shall soil.</i>"</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>He went down to the edge of the sea and, taking a bottle in each hand,
+held them out at arms' length, while he began in his high-pitched
+voice,</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">"<i>O deeps, receive these</i>&mdash;&mdash;"</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>He stopped. A small boy stood beside him, holding out at him the point
+of what in the semi-darkness Mr. Jones took to be a loaded rifle.
+William mistook his action in holding out the bottles.</p>
+
+<p>"It's no good tryin' to drink it up," he said severely. "We've caught
+you smugglin'."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Percival Jones laughed nervously.</p>
+
+<p>"My little man!" he said, "that's a very dangerous&mdash;er&mdash;thing for you
+to have! Suppose you hand it over to me, now, like a good little
+chap."</p>
+
+<p>William recognised his voice.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
+<a href="images/fig23.jpg"><img src="images/fig23_t.jpg" width="400" height="349"
+alt="&quot;We&#39;ve caught you smuggling!&quot; William said severely."
+title="&quot;We&#39;ve caught you smuggling!&quot; William said severely." /></a>
+<span class="caption">&quot;We&#39;ve caught you smuggling!&quot; William said severely.</span>
+<br /></div>
+
+<p>"Fancy you bein' a smuggler all the time!" he said with righteous
+indignation in his voice.</p>
+
+<p>"Take away that&mdash;er&mdash;nasty gun, little boy," pleaded his captive
+plaintively.</p>
+
+<p>"You&mdash;ah&mdash;don't understand it. It&mdash;er&mdash;might go off."</p>
+
+<p>William was not a boy to indulge in half measures. He meant to carry
+the matter off with a high hand.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll shoot you dead," he said dramatically, "if you don't do jus'
+what I tell you."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Percival Jones wiped the perspiration from his brow.</p>
+
+<p>"Where did you get that rifle, little boy?" he asked in a voice he
+strove to make playful. "Is it&mdash;ah&mdash;is it loaded? It's&mdash;ah&mdash;unwise,
+little boy. Most unwise. Er&mdash;give it to me to&mdash;er&mdash;take care of.
+It&mdash;er&mdash;might go off, you know."</p>
+
+<p>William moved the muzzle of his weapon, and Mr. Percival Jones
+shuddered from head to foot. William was a brave boy, but he had
+experienced a moment of cold terror when first he had approached his
+captive. The first note of the quavering high-pitched voice had,
+however, reassured him. He instantly knew himself to be the better
+man. His captive's obvious terror of his pop-gun almost persuaded him
+that he held in his hand some formidable death-dealing instrument. As
+a matter of fact Mr. Percival Jones was temperamentally an abject
+coward.</p>
+
+<p>"You walk up to the seats," commanded William. "I've took you prisoner
+for smugglin' an'&mdash;an'&mdash;jus' walk up to the seats."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Percival Jones obeyed with alacrity.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't&mdash;er&mdash;<i>press</i> anything, little boy," he pleaded as he went.
+"It&mdash;ah&mdash;might go off by accident. You might do&mdash;ah&mdash;untold damage."</p>
+
+<p>Peggy, armed with the wastepaper basket and the skin, followed
+open-mouthed.</p>
+
+<p>At the seat William paused.</p>
+
+<p>"Peggy, you put the basket over his head an' pin his arms down&mdash;case
+he struggles, an' tie the skin wot I shot round him, case he
+struggles."</p>
+
+<p>Peggy stood upon the seat and obeyed. Their victim made no protest. He
+seemed to himself to be in some horrible dream. The only thing of
+which he was conscious was the dimly descried weapon that William held
+out at him in the darkness. He was hardly aware of the wastepaper
+basket thrust over his head. He watched William anxiously through the
+basket-work.</p>
+
+<p>"Be careful," he murmured. "Be careful, boy!"</p>
+
+<p>He hardly felt the skin which was fastened tightly round his
+unresisting form by Peggy, the tail tied to one front paw.
+Unconsciously he still clasped a bottle of brandy in each arm.</p>
+
+<p>Then came the irate summons of Peggy's nurse through the dusk.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, William," she said panting with excitement, "I don't want to
+leave you. Oh, William, he might <i>kill</i> you!"</p>
+
+<p>"You go on. I'm all right," he said with conscious valour. "He can't
+do nothin' 'cause I've got a gun an' I can shoot him dead,"&mdash;Mr.
+Percival Jones shuddered afresh,&mdash;"an' he's all tied up an' I've took
+him prisoner an' I'm goin' to take him home."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, William, you are brave!" she whispered in the darkness as she
+flitted away to her nurse.</p>
+
+<p>William blushed with pride and embarrassment.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Percival Jones was convinced that he had to deal with a youthful
+lunatic, armed with a dangerous weapon, and was anxious only to humour
+him till the time of danger was over and he could be placed under
+proper restraint.</p>
+
+<p>Unconscious of his peculiar appearance, he walked before his captor,
+casting propitiatory glances behind him.</p>
+
+<p>"It's all right, little boy," he said soothingly, "quite all right.
+I'm&mdash;er&mdash;your friend. Don't&mdash;ah&mdash;get annoyed, little boy.
+Don't&mdash;ah&mdash;get annoyed. Won't you put your gun down, little man? Won't
+you let me carry it for you?"</p>
+
+<p>William walked behind, still pointing his pop-gun.</p>
+
+<p>"I've took you prisoner for smugglin'," he repeated doggedly. "I'm
+takin' you home. You're my prisoner. I've took you."</p>
+
+<p>They met no one on the road, though Mr. Percival Jones threw longing
+glances around, ready to appeal to any passer-by for rescue. He was
+afraid to raise his voice in case it should rouse his youthful captor
+to murder. He saw with joy the gate of his boarding-house and hastened
+up the walk and up the stairs. The drawing-room door was open. There
+was help and assistance, there was protection against this strange
+persecution. He entered, followed closely by William. It was about the
+time he had promised to read his "little effort" on the Coming of
+Spring to his circle of admirers. A group of elderly ladies sat round
+the fire awaiting him. Ethel was writing. They turned as he entered
+and a gasp of horror and incredulous dismay went up. It was that gasp
+that called him to a realisation of the fact that he was wearing a
+wastepaper basket over his head and shoulders, and that a mangy fur
+rug was tied round his arms.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. <i>Jones</i>!" they gasped.</p>
+
+<p>He gave a wrench to his shoulders and the rug fell to the floor,
+revealing a bottle of brandy clasped in either arm.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. <i>Jones</i>!" they repeated.</p>
+
+<p>"I caught him smugglin'" said William proudly. "I caught him smugglin'
+beer by the sea an' he was drinking those two bottles he'd smuggled
+an' he had thousands an' <i>thousands</i> of cigars all over him, an' I
+caught him, an' he's a smuggler an' I brought him up here with my gun.
+He's a smuggler an' I took him prisoner."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Jones, red, and angry, his hair awry, glared through the
+wickerwork of his basket. He moistened his lips. "This is an outrage,"
+he spluttered.</p>
+
+<p>Horrified elderly eyes stared at the incriminating bottles.</p>
+
+<p>"He was drinkin' 'em by the sea," said William.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. <i>Jones</i>!" they chorused again.</p>
+
+<p>He flung off his wastepaper basket and turned upon the proprietress of
+the establishment who stood by the door.</p>
+
+<p>"I will not brook such treatment," he stammered in fury. "I leave your
+roof to-night. I am outraged&mdash;humiliated. I&mdash;I disdain to explain.
+I&mdash;leave your roof to-night."</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. <i>Jones</i>!" they said once more.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
+<a href="images/fig24.jpg"><img src="images/fig24_t.jpg" width="400" height="321"
+alt="&quot;I caught him smuggling,&quot; William explained proudly. &quot;He had
+thousands an&#39; thousands of cigars and that beer!&quot;" title="&quot;I caught
+him smuggling,&quot; William explained proudly. &quot;He had thousands an&#39;
+thousands of cigars and that beer!&quot;" /></a>
+<span class="caption">&quot;I caught him smuggling,&quot; William explained proudly.
+&quot;He had thousands an&#39; thousands of cigars and that beer!&quot;</span>
+<br /></div>
+
+<p>Mr. Jones, still clasping his bottles, withdrew, pausing to glare at
+William on his way.</p>
+
+<p>"You <i>wicked</i> boy! You wicked little, <i>untruthful</i> boy," he said.</p>
+
+<p>William looked after him. "He's my prisoner an' they've let him go,"
+he said aggrievedly.</p>
+
+<p>Ten minutes later he wandered into the smoking room. Mr. Brown sat
+miserably in a chair by a dying fire beneath a poor light.</p>
+
+<p>"Is he still bleating there?" he said. "Is this still the only corner
+where I can be sure of keeping my sanity? Is he reading his beastly
+poetry upstairs? Is he&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"He's goin'," said William moodily. "He's goin' before dinner. They've
+sent for his cab. He's mad 'cause I said he was a smuggler. He was a
+smuggler 'cause I saw him doin' it, an' I took him prisoner an' he got
+mad an' he's goin'. An' they're mad at me 'cause I took him prisoner.
+You'd think they'd be glad at me catchin' smugglers, but they're not,"
+bitterly. "An' Mother says she'll tell you an' you'll be mad too
+an'&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Brown raised his hand.</p>
+
+<p>"One minute, my son," he said. "Your story is confused. Do I
+understand that Mr. Jones is going and that you are the cause of his
+departure?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, 'cause he got mad 'cause I said he was a smuggler an' he was a
+smuggler an' they're mad at me now, an'&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Brown laid a hand on his son's shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>"There are moments, William," he said, "when I feel almost
+affectionate towards you."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CH_XII" id="CH_XII"></a>XII</h2>
+<h2>The Reform Of William</h2>
+
+
+<p>To William the idea of reform was new and startling and not wholly
+unattractive. It originated with the housemaid whose brother was a
+reformed burglar now employed in a grocer's shop.</p>
+
+<p>"'E's got conversion," she said to William. "'E got it quite
+sudden-like, an' 'e give up all 'is bad ways straight off. 'E's bin
+like a heavenly saint ever since."</p>
+
+<p>William was deeply interested. The point was all innocently driven in
+later by the Sunday-school mistress. William's family had no real
+faith in the Sunday-school as a corrective to William's inherent
+wickedness, but they knew that no Sabbath peace or calm was humanly
+possible while William was in the house. So they brushed and cleaned
+and tidied him at 2.45 and sent him, pained and protesting, down the
+road every Sunday afternoon. Their only regret was that Sunday-school
+did not begin earlier and end later.</p>
+
+<p>Fortunately for William, most of his friends' parents were inspired by
+the same zeal, so that he met his old cronies of the
+week-days&mdash;Henry, Ginger, Douglas and all the rest&mdash;and together they
+beguiled the monotony of the Sabbath.</p>
+
+<p>But this Sunday the tall, pale lady who, for her sins, essayed to lead
+William and his friends along the straight and narrow path of virtue,
+was almost inspired. She was like some prophetess of old. She was so
+emphatic that the red cherries that hung coquettishly over the edge of
+her hat rattled against it as though in applause.</p>
+
+<p>"We must all <i>start afresh</i>," she said. "We must all be
+<i>turned</i>&mdash;that's what <i>conversion</i> means."</p>
+
+<p>William's fascinated eye wandered from the cherries to the distant
+view out of the window. He thought suddenly of the noble burglar who
+had turned his back upon the mysterious, nefarious tools of his trade
+and now dispensed margarine to his former victims.</p>
+
+<p>Opposite him sat a small girl in a pink and white checked frock. He
+often whiled away the dullest hours of Sunday-school by putting out
+his tongue at her or throwing paper pellets at her (manufactured
+previously for the purpose). But to-day, meeting her serious eye, he
+looked away hastily.</p>
+
+<p>"And we must all <i>help someone</i>," went on the urgent voice. "If we
+have <i>turned</i> ourselves, we must help someone else to <i>turn</i>...."</p>
+
+<p>Determined and eager was the eye that the small girl turned upon
+William, and William realised that his time had come. He was to be
+converted. He felt almost thrilled by the prospect. He was so
+enthralled that he received absent-mindedly, and without gratitude,
+the mountainous bull's-eye passed to him from Ginger, and only gave a
+half-hearted smile when a well-aimed pellet from Henry's hand sent one
+of the prophetess's cherries swinging high in the air.</p>
+
+<p>After the class the pink-checked girl (whose name most appropriately
+was Deborah) stalked William for several yards and finally cornered
+him.</p>
+
+<p>"William," she said, "are you going to <i>turn</i>?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'm goin' to think about it," said William guardedly.</p>
+
+<p>"William, I think you ought to turn. I'll help you," she added
+sweetly.</p>
+
+<p>William drew a deep breath. "All right, I will," he said.</p>
+
+<p>She heaved a sigh of relief.</p>
+
+<p>"You'll begin <i>now</i>, won't you?" she said earnestly.</p>
+
+<p>William considered. There were several things that he had wanted to do
+for some time, but hadn't managed to do yet. He had not tried turning
+off the water at the main, and hiding the key and seeing what would
+happen; he hadn't tried shutting up the cat in the hen-house; he
+hadn't tried painting his long-suffering mongrel Jumble with the pot
+of green paint that was in the tool shed; he hadn't tried pouring
+water into the receiver of the telephone; he hadn't tried locking the
+cook into the larder. There were, in short, whole fields of crime
+entirely unexplored. All these things&mdash;and others&mdash;must be done
+before the reformation.</p>
+
+<p>"I can't begin <i>jus'</i> yet," said William. "Say day after to-morrow."</p>
+
+<p>She considered this for a minute.</p>
+
+<p>"Very well," she said at last reluctantly, "day after to-morrow."</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 25%;' />
+
+<p>The next day dawned bright and fair. William arose with a distinct
+sense that something important had happened. Then he thought of the
+reformation. He saw himself leading a quiet and blameless life,
+walking sedately to school, working at high pressure in school, doing
+his homework conscientiously in the evening, being exquisitely polite
+to his family, his instructors, and the various foolish people who
+visited his home for the sole purpose (apparently) of making inane
+remarks to him. He saw all this, and the picture was far from
+unattractive&mdash;in the distance. In the immediate future, however, there
+were various quite important things to be done. There was a whole
+normal lifetime of crime to be crowded into one day. Looking out of
+his window he espied the gardener bending over one of the beds. The
+gardener had a perfectly bald head. William had sometimes idly
+imagined the impact of a pea sent violently from a pea-shooter with
+the gardener's bald head. Before there had been a lifetime of
+experiment before him, and he had put off this one idly in favour of
+something more pressing. Now there was only one day. He took up his
+pea-shooter and aimed carefully. The pea did not embed itself deeply
+into the gardener's skull as William had sometimes thought it would.
+It bounced back. It bounced back quite hard. The gardener also bounced
+back with a yell of anger, shaking his fist at William's window. But
+William had discreetly retired. He hid the pea-shooter, assumed his
+famous expression of innocence, and felt distinctly cheered. The
+question as to what exactly would happen when the pea met the baldness
+was now for ever solved. The gardener retired grumbling to the potting
+shed, so, for the present, all was well. Later in the day the gardener
+might lay his formal complaint before authority, but later in the day
+was later in the day. It did not trouble William. He dressed briskly
+and went down to breakfast with a frown of concentration upon his
+face. It was the last day of his old life.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 311px;">
+<a href="images/fig25.jpg"><img src="images/fig25_t.jpg" width="311" height="400"
+alt="The pea did not embed itself into the gardener&#39;s skull as William had
+sometimes thought it would. It bounced back. The gardener also bounced back."
+title="The pea did not embed itself into the gardener&#39;s skull as William
+had sometimes thought it would. It bounced back. The gardener also bounced back." /></a>
+<span class="caption">The pea did not embed itself into the gardener&#39;s
+skull as William had sometimes thought it would. It bounced back. The gardener
+also bounced back.</span>
+<br /></div>
+
+<p>No one else was in the dining-room. It was the work of a few minutes
+to remove the bacon from beneath the big pewter cover and substitute
+the kitten, to put a tablespoonful of salt into the coffee, and to put
+a two-days'-old paper in place of that morning's. They were all things
+that he had at one time or another vaguely thought of doing, but for
+which he had never yet seemed to have time or opportunity. Warming to
+his subject he removed the egg from under the egg cosy on his sister's
+plate and placed in its stead a worm which had just appeared in the
+window-box in readiness for the early bird.</p>
+
+<p>He surveyed the scene with a deep sigh of satisfaction. The only
+drawback was that he felt that he could not safely stay to watch
+results. William possessed a true strategic instinct for the right
+moment for a retreat. Hearing, therefore, a heavy step on the stairs,
+he seized several pieces of toast and fled. As he fled he heard
+through the open window violent sounds proceeding from the enraged
+kitten beneath the cover, and then the still more violent sounds
+proceeding from the unknown person who removed the cover. The kitten,
+a mass of fury and lust for revenge, came flying through the window.
+William hid behind a laurel bush till it had passed, then set off down
+the road.</p>
+
+<p>School, of course, was impossible. The precious hours of such a day as
+this could not be wasted in school. He went down the road full of his
+noble purpose. The wickedness of a lifetime was somehow or other to be
+crowded into this day. To-morrow it would all be impossible. To-morrow
+began the blameless life. It must all be worked off to-day. He skirted
+the school by a field path in case any of those narrow souls paid to
+employ so aimlessly the precious hours of his youth might be there.
+They would certainly be tactless enough to question him as he passed
+the door. Then he joined the main road.</p>
+
+<p>The main road was empty except for a caravan&mdash;a caravan gaily painted
+in red and yellow. It had little lace curtains at the window. It was
+altogether a most fascinating caravan. No one seemed to be near it.
+William looked through the windows. There was a kind of dresser with
+crockery hanging from it, a small table and a little oil stove. The
+further part was curtained off but no sound came from it, so that it
+was presumably empty too. William wandered round to inspect the
+quadruped in front. It appeared to be a mule&mdash;a mule with a jaundiced
+view of life. It rolled a sad eye towards William, then with a deep
+sigh returned to its contemplation of the landscape. William gazed
+upon caravan and steed fascinated. Never, in his future life of noble
+merit, would he be able to annex a caravan. It was his last chance. No
+one was about. He could pretend that he had mistaken it for his own
+caravan or had got on to it by mistake or&mdash;or anything. Conscience
+stirred faintly in his breast, but he silenced it sternly. Conscience
+was to rule him for the rest of his life and it could jolly well let
+him alone <i>this</i> day. With some difficulty he climbed on to the
+driver's seat, took the reins, said "Gee-up" to the melancholy mule,
+and the whole equipage with a jolt and faint rattle set out along the
+road.</p>
+
+<p>William did not know how to drive, but it did not seem to matter. The
+mule ambled along and William, high up on the driver's seat, the reins
+held with ostentatious carelessness in one hand, the whip poised
+lightly in the other was in the seventh heaven of bliss. He was
+driving a caravan. He was driving a caravan. He was driving a caravan.
+The very telegraph posts seemed to gape with envy and admiration as
+he passed. What ultimately he was going to do with his caravan he
+neither knew nor cared. All that mattered was, it was a bright sunny
+morning, and all the others were in school, and he was driving a red
+and yellow caravan along the high road. The birds seemed to be singing
+a p&aelig;on of praise to him. He was intoxicated with pride. It was <i>his</i>
+caravan, <i>his</i> road, <i>his</i> world. Carelessly he flicked the mule with
+the whip. There are several explanations of what happened then. The
+mule may not have been used to the whip; a wasp may have just stung
+him at that particular minute; a wandering demon may have entered into
+him. Mules are notoriously accessible to wandering demons. Whatever
+the explanation, the mule suddenly started forward and galloped at
+full speed down the hill. The reins dropped from William's hands; he
+clung for dear life on to his seat, as the caravan, swaying and
+jolting along the uneven road, seemed to be doing its utmost to fling
+him off. There came a rattle of crockery from within. Then suddenly
+there came another sound from within&mdash;a loud, agonised scream. It was
+a female scream. Someone who had been asleep behind the curtain had
+just awakened.</p>
+
+<p>William's hair stood on end. He almost forgot to cling to the seat.
+For not one scream came but many. They rent the still summer air,
+mingled with the sound of breaking glass and crockery. The mule
+continued his mad career down the hill, his reins trailing in the
+dust. In the distance was a little gipsy's donkey cart full of pots
+and pans. William found his voice suddenly and began to warn the mule.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
+<a href="images/fig26.jpg"><img src="images/fig26_t.jpg" width="400" height="366"
+alt="William&#39;s hair stood on end. He almost forgot to cling to the seat. For
+not one scream came but many, mingled with the sound of breaking glass and crockery."
+title="William&#39;s hair stood on end. He almost forgot to cling to the seat. For not
+one scream came but many, mingled with the sound of breaking glass and crockery." /></a>
+<span class="caption">William&#39;s hair stood on end. He almost forgot to cling to
+the seat. For not one scream came but many, mingled with the sound of breaking
+glass and crockery.</span><br /></div>
+
+<p>"Look out, you ole softie!" he yelled. "Look out for the donk, you ole
+ass."</p>
+
+<p>But the mule refused to be warned. He neatly escaped the donkey cart
+himself, but he crashed the caravan into it with such force that the
+caravan broke a shaft and overturned completely on to the donkey
+cart, scattering pots and pans far and wide. From within the caravan
+came inhuman female yells of fear and anger. William had fallen on to
+a soft bank of grass. He was discovering, to his amazement, that he
+was still alive and practically unhurt. The mule was standing meekly
+by and smiling to himself. Then out of the window of the caravan
+climbed a woman&mdash;a fat, angry woman, shaking her fist at the world in
+general. Her hair and face were covered with sugar and a fork was
+embedded in the front of her dress. Otherwise she, too, had escaped
+undamaged.</p>
+
+<p>The owner of the donkey cart arose from the <i>m&ecirc;l&eacute;e</i> of pots and pans
+and turned upon her fiercely. She screamed at him furiously in reply.
+Then along the road could be seen the figure of a fat man carrying a
+fishing rod. He began to run wildly towards the caravan.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Ach! Gott in Himmel</i>!" he cried as he ran, "my beautiful caravan!
+Who has this to it done?"</p>
+
+<p>He joined the frenzied altercation that was going on between the
+donkey man and the fat woman. The air was rent by their angry shouts.
+A group of highly appreciative villagers collected round them. Then
+one of them pointed to William, who sat, feeling still slightly
+shaken, upon the bank.</p>
+
+<p>"It was 'im wot done it," he said, "it was 'im that was a-drivin' of
+it down the 'ill."</p>
+
+<p>With one wild glance at the scene of devastation and anger, William
+turned and fled through the wood.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Ach! Gott in Himmel!</i>" screamed the fat man, beginning to pursue
+him. The fat woman and the donkey man joined the pursuit. To William
+it was like some ghastly nightmare after an evening's entertainment at
+the cinematograph.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile the donkey and the mule fraternised over the <i>d&eacute;bris</i> and
+the villagers helped themselves to all they could find. But the fat
+man was very fat, and the fat woman was very fat, and the donkey man
+was very old, and William was young and very fleet, so in less than
+ten minutes they gave up the pursuit and returned panting and
+quarrelling to the road. William sat on the further outskirts of the
+wood and panted. He felt on the whole exhilarated by the adventure. It
+was quite a suitable adventure for his last day of unregeneration. But
+he felt also in need of bodily sustenance, so he purchased a bun and a
+bottle of lemonade at a neighbouring shop and sat by the roadside to
+recover. There were no signs of his pursuers.</p>
+
+<p>He felt reluctant to return home. It is always well to follow a
+morning's absence from school by an afternoon's absence from school. A
+return in the afternoon is ignominious and humiliating. William
+wandered round the neighbourhood experiencing all the thrill of the
+outlaw. Certainly by this time the gardener would have complained to
+his father, probably the schoolmistress would have sent a note.
+Also&mdash;someone had been scratched by the cat.</p>
+
+<p>William decided that all things considered it was best to make a day
+of it.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
+<a href="images/fig27.jpg"><img src="images/fig27_t.jpg" width="400" height="388"
+alt="William&#39;s spirits sank a little as he approached the gate. He could see
+through the trees the fat caravan-owner gesticulating at the door."
+title="William&#39;s spirits sank a little as he approached the gate. He could see
+through the trees the fat caravan-owner gesticulating at the door." /></a>
+<span class="caption">William&#39;s spirits sank a little as he approached the gate.
+He could see through the trees the fat caravan-owner gesticulating at the door.</span>
+<br /></div>
+
+<p>He spent part of the afternoon in throwing stones at a scarecrow. His
+aim was fairly good, and he succeeded in knocking off the hat and
+finally prostrating the wooden framework. Followed&mdash;an exciting chase
+by an angry farmer.</p>
+
+<p>It was after tea-time when he returned home, walking with careless
+bravado as of a criminal who has drunk of crime to its very depth and
+flaunts it before the world. His spirits sank a little as he
+approached the gate. He could see through the trees the fat
+caravan-owner gesticulating at the door. Helped by the villagers, he
+had tracked William. Phrases floated to him through the summer air.</p>
+
+<p>"Mine beautiful caravan.... <i>Ach.... Gott in Himmel</i>!"</p>
+
+<p>He could see the gardener smiling in the distance. There was a small
+blue bruise on his shining head. William judged from the smile that he
+had laid his formal complaint before authority. William noticed that
+his father looked pale and harassed. He noticed, also, with a thrill
+of horror, that his hand was bound up, and that there was a long
+scratch down his cheek. He knew the cat had scratched <i>somebody</i>,
+but ... Crumbs!</p>
+
+<p>A small boy came down the road and saw William hesitating at the open
+gateway.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>You'll</i> catch it!" he said cheerfully. "They've wrote to say you
+wasn't in school."</p>
+
+<p>William crept round to the back of the house beneath the bushes. He
+felt that the time had come to give himself up to justice, but he
+wanted, as the popular saying is, to be sure of "getting his money's
+worth." There was the tin half full of green paint in the tool shed.
+He'd had his eye on it for some time. He went quietly round to the
+tool shed. Soon he was contemplating with a satisfied smile a green
+and enraged cat and a green and enraged hen. Then, bracing himself for
+the effort, he delivered himself up to justice. When all was said and
+done no punishment could be really adequate to a day like that.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 25%;' />
+
+<p>Dusk was falling. William gazed pensively from his bedroom window. He
+was reviewing his day. He had almost forgotten the stormy and
+decidedly unpleasant scene with his father. Mr. Brown's rhetoric had
+been rather lost on William, because its pearls of sarcasm had been so
+far above his head. And William had not been really loth to retire at
+once to bed. After all, it had been a very tiring day.</p>
+
+<p>Now his thoughts were going over some of its most exquisite
+moments&mdash;the moments when the pea and the gardener's head met and
+rebounded with such satisfactory force; the moment when he swung along
+the high road, monarch of a caravan and a mule and the whole wide
+world; the moment when the scarecrow hunched up and collapsed so
+realistically; the cat covered with green paint.... After all it was
+his last day. He saw himself from to-morrow onward leading a quiet and
+blameless life, walking sedately to school, working at high pressure
+in school, doing his homework conscientiously in the evening, being
+exquisitely polite to his family and instructors&mdash;and the vision
+failed utterly to attract. Moreover, he hadn't yet tried turning off
+the water at the main, or locking the cook into the larder, or&mdash;or
+hundreds of things.</p>
+
+<p>There came a gentle voice from the garden.</p>
+
+<p>"William, where are you?"</p>
+
+<p>William looked down and met the earnest gaze of Deborah.</p>
+
+<p>"Hello," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"William," she said. "You won't forget that you're going to start
+to-morrow, will you?"</p>
+
+<p>William looked at her firmly.</p>
+
+<p>"I can't jus' to-morrow," he said. "I'm puttin' it off. I'm puttin' it
+off for a year or two."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CH_XIII" id="CH_XIII"></a>XIII</h2>
+<h2><span class="smcap">William And The Ancient Souls</span></h2>
+
+
+<p>The house next William's had been unoccupied for several months, and
+William made full use of its garden. Its garden was in turns a jungle,
+a desert, an ocean, and an enchanted island. William invited select
+parties of his friends to it. He had come to look upon it as his own
+property. He hunted wild animals in it with Jumble, his trusty hound;
+he tracked Red Indians in it, again with Jumble, his trusty hound; and
+he attacked and sank ships in it, making his victims walk the plank,
+again with the help and assistance of Jumble, his trusty hound.
+Sometimes, to vary the monotony, he made Jumble, his trusty hound,
+walk the plank into the rain tub. This was one of the many unpleasant
+things that William brought into Jumble's life. It was only his
+intense love for William that reconciled him to his existence. Jumble
+was one of the very few beings who appreciated William.</p>
+
+<p>The house on the other side was a much smaller one, and was occupied
+by Mr. Gregorius Lambkin. Mr. Gregorius Lambkin was a very shy and
+rather elderly bachelor. He issued from his front door every morning
+at half-past eight holding a neat little attach&eacute; case in a
+neatly-gloved hand. He spent the day in an insurance office and
+returned, still unruffled and immaculate, at about half past six. Most
+people considered him quite dull and negligible, but he possessed the
+supreme virtue in William's eyes of not objecting to William. William
+had suffered much from unsympathetic neighbours who had taken upon
+themselves to object to such innocent and artistic objects as
+catapults and pea-shooters, and cricket balls. William had a very soft
+spot in his heart for Mr. Gregorius Lambkin. William spent a good deal
+of his time in Mr. Lambkin's garden during his absence, and Mr.
+Lambkin seemed to have no objection. Other people's gardens always
+seemed to William to be more attractive than his own&mdash;especially when
+he had no right of entry into them.</p>
+
+<p>There was quite an excitement in the neighbourhood when the empty
+house was let. It was rumoured that the newcomer was a Personage. She
+was the President of the Society of Ancient Souls. The Society of
+Ancient Souls was a society of people who remembered their previous
+existence. The memory usually came in a flash. For instance, you might
+remember in a flash when you were looking at a box of matches that you
+had been Guy Fawkes. Or you might look at a cow and remember in a
+flash that you had been Nebuchadnezzar. Then you joined the Society of
+Ancient Souls, and paid a large subscription, and attended meetings
+at the house of its President in costume. And the President was coming
+to live next door to William. By a curious coincidence her name was
+Gregoria&mdash;Miss Gregoria Mush. William awaited her coming with anxiety.
+He had discovered that one's next-door neighbours make a great
+difference to one's life. They may be agreeable and not object to
+mouth organs and whistling and occasional stone-throwing, or they may
+not. They sometimes&mdash;the worst kind&mdash;go to the length of writing notes
+to one's father about one, and then, of course, the only course left
+to one is one of Revenge. But William hoped great things from Miss
+Gregoria Mush. There was a friendly sound about the name. On the
+evening of her arrival he climbed up on the roller and gazed wistfully
+over the fence at the territory that had once been his, but from which
+he was now debarred. He felt like Moses surveying the Promised Land.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Gregoria Mush was walking in the garden. William watched her with
+bated breath. She was very long, and very thin, and very angular, and
+she was reading poetry out loud to herself as she trailed about in her
+long draperies.</p>
+
+<p>"'Oh, moon of my delight....'" she declaimed, then her eye met
+William's. The eyes beneath her pince-nez were like little gimlets.</p>
+
+<p>"How dare you stare at me, you rude boy?" she said.</p>
+
+<p>William gasped.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 244px;">
+<a href="images/fig27b.jpg"><img src="images/fig27b_t.jpg" width="244" height="400"
+alt="&quot;How dare you stare at me, you rude boy?&quot; she said." title="&quot;How
+dare you stare at me, you rude boy?&quot; she said." /></a>
+<span class="caption">&quot;How dare you stare at me, you rude boy?&quot; she said.</span>
+<br /></div>
+
+<p>"I shall write to your father," she said fiercely, and then proceeded
+still ferociously, "'... that knows no wane.'"</p>
+
+<p>"Crumbs!" murmured William, descending slowly from his perch.</p>
+
+<p>She did write to his father, and that note was the first of many. She
+objected to his singing, she objected to his shouting, she objected to
+his watching her over the wall, and she objected to his throwing
+sticks at her cat. She objected both verbally and in writing. This
+persecution was only partly compensated for by occasional glimpses of
+meetings of the Ancient Souls. For the Ancient Souls met in costume,
+and sometimes William could squeeze through the hole in the fence and
+watch the Ancient Souls meeting in the dining-room. Miss Gregoria Mush
+arrayed as Mary, Queen of Scots (one of her many previous existences)
+was worth watching. And always there was the garden on the other side.
+Mr. Gregorius Lambkin made no objections and wrote no notes. But
+clouds of Fate were gathering round Mr. Gregorius Lambkin. William
+first heard of it one day at lunch.</p>
+
+<p>"I saw the old luny talking to poor little Lambkin to-day," said
+Robert, William's elder brother.</p>
+
+<p>In these terms did Robert refer to the august President of the Society
+of Ancient Souls.</p>
+
+<p>And the next news Robert brought home was that "poor little Lambkin"
+had joined the Society of Ancient Souls, but didn't seem to want to
+talk about it. He seemed very vague as to his previous existence, but
+he said that Miss Gregoria Mush was sure that he had been Julius
+C&aelig;sar. The knowledge had come to her in a flash when he raised his hat
+and she saw his bald head.</p>
+
+<p>There was a meeting of the Ancient Souls that evening, and William
+crept through the hole and up to the dining-room window to watch. A
+gorgeous scene met his eye. Noah conversed agreeably with Cleopatra in
+the window seat, and by the piano Napoleon discussed the Irish
+question with Lobengula. As William watched, his small nose flattened
+against a corner of the window, Nero and Dante arrived, having shared
+a taxi from the station. Miss Gregoria Mush, tall and gaunt and
+angular, presided in the robes of Mary, Queen of Scots, which was her
+favourite previous existence. Then Mr. Gregorius Lambkin arrived. He
+looked as unhappy as it is possible for man to look. He was dressed in
+a toga and a laurel wreath. Heat and nervousness had caused his small
+waxed moustache to droop. His toga was too long and his laurel wreath
+was crooked. Miss Gregoria Mush received him effusively. She carried
+him off to a corner seat near the window, and there they conversed,
+or, to be more accurate, she talked and he listened. The window was
+open and William could hear some of the things she said.</p>
+
+<p>"Now you are a member you must come here often ... you and I, the only
+Ancient Souls in this vicinity ... we will work together and live only
+in the Past.... Have you remembered any other previous existence?...
+No? Ah, try, it will come in a flash any time.... I must come and see
+your garden.... I feel that we have much in common, you and I.... We
+have much to talk about.... I have all my past life to tell you of ...
+what train do you come home by?... We must be friends&mdash;real
+friends.... I'm sure I can help you much in your life as an Ancient
+Soul.... Our names are almost the same.... Fate in some way unites
+us...."</p>
+
+<p>And Mr. Lambkin sat, miserable and dejected and yet with a certain
+pathetic resignation. For what can one do against Fate? Then the
+President caught sight of William and approached the window.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 313px;">
+<a href="images/fig28.jpg"><img src="images/fig28_t.jpg" width="313" height="400"
+alt="Mr. Lambkin sat, miserable and dejected, and yet with a certain pathetic
+resignation." title="Mr. Lambkin sat, miserable and dejected, and yet with a
+certain pathetic resignation." /></a>
+<span class="caption">Mr. Lambkin sat, miserable and dejected, and yet with a
+certain pathetic resignation.</span>
+<br /></div>
+
+<p>"Go away, boy!" she called. "You wicked, rude, prying boy, go away!"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Lambkin shot a wretched and apologetic glance at William, but
+William pressed his mouth to the open slit of the window.</p>
+
+<p>"All right, Mrs. Jarley's!" he called, then turned and fled.</p>
+
+<p>William met Mr. Lambkin on his way to the station the next morning.
+Mr. Lambkin looked thinner and there were lines of worry on his face.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm sorry she sent you away, William," he said. "It must have been
+interesting to watch&mdash;most interesting to watch. I'd much rather have
+watched than&mdash;but there, it's very kind of her to take such an
+interest in me. <i>Most</i> kind. But I&mdash;however, she's very kind, <i>very</i>
+kind. She very kindly presented me with the costume. Hardly
+suitable, perhaps, but <i>very</i> kind of her. And, of course, there <i>may</i>
+be something in it. One never knows. I <i>may</i> have been Julius C&aelig;sar,
+but I hardly think&mdash;however, one must keep an open mind. Do you know
+any Latin, William?"</p>
+
+<p>"Jus' a bit," said William, guardedly. "I've <i>learnt</i> a lot, but I
+don't <i>know</i> much."</p>
+
+<p>"Say some to me. It might convey something to me. One never knows. She
+seems so sure. Talk Latin to me, William."</p>
+
+<p>"Hic, haec, hoc," said William obligingly.</p>
+
+<p>Julius C&aelig;sar's reincarnation shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>"No," he said, "I'm afraid it doesn't seem to mean anything to me."</p>
+
+<p>"Hunc, hanc, hoc," went on William monotonously.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm afraid it's no good," said Mr. Lambkin. "I'm afraid it proves
+that I'm not&mdash;still one may not retain a knowledge of one's former
+tongue. One must keep an open mind. Of course, I'd prefer not to&mdash;but
+one must be fair. And she's kind, very kind."</p>
+
+<p>Shaking his head sadly, the little man entered the station.</p>
+
+<p>That evening William heard his father say to his mother:</p>
+
+<p>"She came down to meet him at the station to-night. I'm afraid his
+doom is sealed. He's no power of resistance, and she's got her eye on
+him."</p>
+
+<p>"Who's got her eye on him?" said William with interest.</p>
+
+<p>"Be quiet!" said his father with the brusqueness of the male parent.</p>
+
+<p>But William began to see how things stood. And William liked Mr.
+Lambkin.</p>
+
+<p>One evening he saw from his window Mr. Gregorius Lambkin walking with
+Miss Gregoria Mush in Miss Gregoria Mush's garden. Mr. Gregorius
+Lambkin did not look happy.</p>
+
+<p>William crept down to the hole in the fence and applied his ear to it.</p>
+
+<p>They were sitting on a seat quite close to his hole.</p>
+
+<p>"Gregorius," the President of the Society of Ancient Souls was saying,
+"when I found that our names were the same I knew that our destinies
+were interwoven."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," murmured Mr. Lambkin. "It's so kind of you, so kind. But&mdash;I'm
+afraid I'm overstaying my welcome. I must&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"No. I must say what is in my heart, Gregorius. You live on the Past,
+I live in the Past. We have a common mission&mdash;the mission of bringing
+to the thoughtless and uninitiated the memory of their former lives.
+Gregorius, our work would be more valuable if we could do it together,
+if the common destiny that has united our nomenclatures could unite
+also our lives."</p>
+
+<p>"It's so <i>kind</i> of you," murmured the writhing victim, "so kind. I am
+so unfit, I&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"No, friend," she said kindly. "I have power enough for both. The
+human speech is so poor an agent, is it not?"</p>
+
+<p>A door bell clanged in the house.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, the Committee of the Ancient Souls. They were coming from town
+to-night. Come here to-morrow night at the same time, Gregorius, and I
+will tell you what is in my heart. Meet me here&mdash;at this
+time&mdash;to-morrow evening."</p>
+
+<p>William here caught sight of a stray cat at the other end of the
+garden. In the character of a cannibal chief he hunted the white man
+(otherwise the cat) with blood-curdling war-whoops, but felt no real
+interest in the chase. He bound up his scratches mechanically with an
+ink-stained handkerchief. Then he went indoors. Robert was conversing
+with his friend in the library.</p>
+
+<p>"Well," said the friend, "it's nearly next month. Has she landed him
+yet?"</p>
+
+<p>"By Jove!" said Robert. "First of April to-morrow!" He looked at
+William suspiciously. "And if you try any fool's tricks on me you'll
+jolly well hear about it."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not thinkin' of you," said William crushingly. "I'm not goin' to
+trouble with <i>you</i>!"</p>
+
+<p>"Has she landed him?" said the friend.</p>
+
+<p>"Not yet, and I heard him saying in the train that he was leaving town
+on the 2nd and going abroad for a holiday."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, she'll probably do it yet. She's got all the 1st."</p>
+
+<p>"It's bedtime, William," called his Mother.</p>
+
+<p>"Thank heaven!" said Robert.</p>
+
+<p>William sat gazing into the distance, not seeing or hearing.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>William</i>!" called his mother.</p>
+
+<p>"All right," said William irritably. "I'm jus' thinkin' something
+out."</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 25%;' />
+
+<p>William's family went about their ways cautiously the next morning.
+They watched William carefully. Robert even refused an egg at
+breakfast because you never knew with that little wretch. But nothing
+happened.</p>
+
+<p>"Fancy your going on April Fool's day without making a fool of
+anyone," said Robert at lunch.</p>
+
+<p>"It's not over, is it?&mdash;not yet," said William with the air of a
+sphinx.</p>
+
+<p>"But it doesn't count after twelve," said Robert.</p>
+
+<p>William considered deeply before he spoke, then he said slowly:</p>
+
+<p>"The thing what I'm going to do counts whatever time it is."</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 25%;' />
+
+<p>Reluctantly, but as if drawn by a magnet, Mr. Lambkin set off to the
+President's house. William was in the road.</p>
+
+<p>"She told me to tell you," said William unblushingly, "that she was
+busy to-night, an' would you mind not coming."</p>
+
+<p>The tense lines of Mr. Lambkin's face relaxed.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, William," he said, "it's a great relief. I'm going away early
+to-morrow, but I was afraid that to-night&mdash;&mdash;" he was almost
+hysterical with relief. "She's so kind, but I was afraid that&mdash;well,
+well, I can't say I'm sorry&mdash;I'd promised to come, and I couldn't
+break it. But I was afraid&mdash;and I hear she's sold her house and is
+leaving in a month, so&mdash;but she's kind&mdash;<i>very</i> kind."</p>
+
+<p>He turned back with alacrity.</p>
+
+<p>"Thanks for letting me have the clothes," said William.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, quite welcome, William. They're nice things for a boy to dress up
+in, no doubt. I can't say I&mdash;but she's <i>very</i> kind. Don't let her see
+you playing with them, William."</p>
+
+<p>William grunted and returned to his back garden.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 326px;">
+<a href="images/fig29.jpg"><img src="images/fig29_t.jpg" width="326" height="400"
+alt="&quot;Gregorius,&quot; said the president. &quot;How dear of you to come in
+costume!&quot; The figure made no movement." title="&quot;Gregorius,&quot; said
+the president. &quot;How dear of you to come in costume!&quot; The figure made no movement." /></a>
+<span class="caption">&quot;Gregorius,&quot; said the president. &quot;How dear
+of you to come in costume!&quot; The figure made no movement.</span>
+<br /></div>
+
+<p>For some time silence reigned over the three back gardens. Then Miss
+Gregoria Mush emerged and came towards the seat by the fence. A figure
+was already seated there in the half dusk, a figure swathed in a toga
+with the toga drawn also over its drooping head.</p>
+
+<p>"Gregorius!" said the President. "How dear of you to come in costume!"</p>
+
+<p>The figure made no movement.</p>
+
+<p>"You know what I have in my heart, Gregorius?"</p>
+
+<p>Still no answer.</p>
+
+<p>"Your heart is too full for words," she said kindly. "The thought of
+having your destiny linked with mine takes speech from you. But have
+courage, dear Gregorius. You shall work for me. We will do great
+things together. We will be married at the little church."</p>
+
+<p>Still no answer.</p>
+
+<p>"Gregorius!" she murmured tenderly:</p>
+
+<p>She leant against him suddenly, and he yielded beneath the pressure
+with a sudden sound of dissolution. Two cushions slid to the ground,
+the toga fell back, revealing a broomstick with a turnip fixed firmly
+to the top. It bore the legend:</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/aprilfool.jpg" width="500" height="77" alt="APRIL FOOL" title="APRIL FOOL" />
+<br /></div>
+
+<p>And from the other side of the fence came a deep sigh of satisfaction
+from the artist behind the scenes.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CH_XIV" id="CH_XIV"></a>XIV</h2>
+<h2><span class="smcap">William's Christmas Eve</span></h2>
+
+
+<p>It was Christmas. The air was full of excitement and secrecy. William,
+whose old-time faith in notes to Father Christmas sent up the chimney
+had died a natural death as the result of bitter experience, had
+thoughtfully presented each of his friends and relations with a list
+of his immediate requirements.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 304px;">
+<a href="images/fig30.jpg"><img src="images/fig30_t.jpg" width="304" height="400"
+alt="William's Christmas List" title="William's Christmas List" /></a>
+<span class="caption">William's Christmas List</span>
+<br /></div>
+
+
+<p>He had a vague and not unfounded misgiving that his family would begin
+at the bottom of the list instead of the top. He was not surprised,
+therefore, when he saw his father come home rather later than usual
+carrying a parcel of books under his arm. A few days afterwards he
+announced casually at breakfast:</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I only hope no one gives me 'The Great Chief,' or 'The Pirate
+Ship,' or 'The Land of Danger' for Christmas."</p>
+
+<p>His father started.</p>
+
+<p>"Why?" he said sharply.</p>
+
+<p>"Jus' 'cause I've read them, that's all," explained William with a
+bland look of innocence.</p>
+
+<p>The glance that Mr. Brown threw at his offspring was not altogether
+devoid of suspicion, but he said nothing. He set off after breakfast
+with the same parcel of books under his arm and returned with another.
+This time, however, he did not put them in the library cupboard, and
+William searched in vain.</p>
+
+<p>The question of Christmas festivities loomed large upon the social
+horizon.</p>
+
+<p>"Robert and Ethel can have their party on the day before Christmas
+Eve," decided Mrs. Brown, "and then William can have his on Christmas
+Eve."</p>
+
+<p>William surveyed his elder brother and sister gloomily.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, an' us eat up jus' what they've left," he said with bitterness.
+"<i>I</i> know!"</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Brown changed the subject hastily.</p>
+
+<p>"Now let's see whom we'll have for your party, William," she said,
+taking out pencil and paper. "You say whom you'd like and I'll make a
+list."</p>
+
+<p>"Ginger an' Douglas an' Henry and Joan," said William promptly.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes? Who else?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'd like the milkman."</p>
+
+<p>"You can't have the milkman, William. Don't be so foolish."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I'd like to have Fisty Green. He can whistle with his fingers
+in his mouth."</p>
+
+<p>"He's a butcher's boy, William! You <i>can't</i> have him?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, who <i>can</i> I have?"</p>
+
+<p>"Johnnie Brent?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't like him."</p>
+
+<p>"But you must invite him. He asked you to his."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I didn't want to go," irritably, "you made me."</p>
+
+<p>"But if he asks you to his you must ask him back."</p>
+
+<p>"You don't want me to invite folks I don't <i>want</i>?" William said in
+the voice of one goaded against his will into exasperation.</p>
+
+<p>"You must invite people who invite you," said Mrs. Brown firmly,
+"that's what we always do in parties."</p>
+
+<p>"Then they've got to invite you again and it goes on and on and <i>on</i>,"
+argued William. "Where's the <i>sense</i> of it? I don't like Johnnie Brent
+an' he don't like me, an' if we go on inviting each other an' our
+mothers go on making us go, it'll go on and on and <i>on</i>. Where's the
+<i>sense</i> of it? I only jus' want to know where's the <i>sense</i> of it?"</p>
+
+<p>His logic was unanswerable.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, anyway, William, I'll draw up the list. You can go and play."</p>
+
+<p>William walked away, frowning, with his hands in his pockets.</p>
+
+<p>"Where's the <i>sense</i> of it?" he muttered as he went.</p>
+
+<p>He began to wend his way towards the spot where he, and Douglas, and
+Ginger, and Henry met daily in order to wile away the hours of the
+Christmas holidays. At present they lived and moved and had their
+being in the characters of Indian Chiefs.</p>
+
+<p>As William walked down the back street, which led by a short cut to
+their meeting-place, he unconsciously assumed an arrogant strut,
+suggestive of some warrior prince surrounded by his gallant braves.</p>
+
+<p>"Garn! <i>Swank</i>!"</p>
+
+<p>He turned with a dark scowl.</p>
+
+<p>On a doorstep sat a little girl, gazing up at him with blue eyes
+beneath a tousled mop of auburn hair.</p>
+
+<p>William's eye travelled sternly from her Titian curls to her bare
+feet. He assumed a threatening attitude and scowled fiercely.</p>
+
+<p>"You better not say <i>that</i> again," he said darkly.</p>
+
+<p>"Why not?" she said with a jeering laugh.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, you'd just better <i>not</i>," he said with a still more ferocious
+scowl.</p>
+
+<p>"What'd you do?" she persisted.</p>
+
+<p>He considered for a moment in silence. Then: "You'd see what I'd do!"
+he said ominously.</p>
+
+<p>"Garn! <i>Swank</i>!" she repeated. "Now do it! Go on, do it!"</p>
+
+<p>"I'll&mdash;let you off <i>this</i> time," he said judicially.</p>
+
+<p>"Garn! <i>Softie</i>. You can't do anything, you can't! You're a softie!"</p>
+
+<p>"I could cut your head off an' scalp you an' leave you hanging on a
+tree, I could," he said fiercely, "an' I will, too, if you go on
+calling me names."</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Softie! Swank!</i> Now cut it off! Go on!"</p>
+
+<p>He looked down at her mocking blue eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"You're jolly lucky I don't start on you," he said threateningly.
+"Folks I do start on soon get sorry, I can tell you."</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 276px;">
+<a href="images/fig31.jpg"><img src="images/fig31_t.jpg" width="276" height="400"
+alt="&quot;Garn! Swank!&quot; William turned with a dark scowl."
+title="&quot;Garn! Swank!&quot; William turned with a dark scowl." /></a>
+<span class="caption">&quot;Garn! Swank!&quot; William turned with a dark scowl.</span>
+<br /></div>
+
+<p>"What you do to them?"</p>
+
+<p>He changed the subject abruptly.</p>
+
+<p>"What's your name?" he said.</p>
+
+<p>"Sheila. What's yours?"</p>
+
+<p>"Red Hand&mdash;I mean, William."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll tell you sumpthin' if you'll come an' sit down by me."</p>
+
+<p>"What'll you tell me?"</p>
+
+<p>"Sumpthin' I bet you don't know."</p>
+
+<p>"I bet I <i>do</i>."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, come here an' I'll tell you."</p>
+
+<p>He advanced towards her suspiciously. Through the open door he could
+see a bed in a corner of the dark, dirty room and a woman's white face
+upon the pillow.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, come <i>on</i>!" said the little girl impatiently.</p>
+
+<p>He came on and sat down beside her.</p>
+
+<p>"Well?" he said condescendingly, "I bet I knew all the time."</p>
+
+<p>"No, you didn't! D'you know," she sank her voice to a confidential
+whisper, "there's a chap called Father Christmas wot comes down
+chimneys Christmas Eve and leaves presents in people's houses?"</p>
+
+<p>He gave a scornful laugh.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, that <i>rot</i>! You don't believe <i>that</i> rot, do you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Rot?" she repeated indignantly. "Why, it's <i>true</i>&mdash;<i>true</i> as <i>true</i>!
+A boy told me wot had hanged his stocking up by the chimney an' in the
+morning it was full of things an' they was jus' the things wot he'd
+wrote on a bit of paper an' thrown up the chimney to this 'ere
+Christmas chap."</p>
+
+<p>"Only <i>kids</i> believe that rot," persisted William. "I left off
+believin' it years and <i>years</i> ago!"</p>
+
+<p>Her face grew pink with the effort of convincing him.</p>
+
+<p>"But the boy <i>told</i> me, the boy wot got things from this 'ere chap wot
+comes down chimneys. An' I've wrote wot I want an' sent it up the
+chimney. Don't you think I'll get it?"</p>
+
+<p>William looked down at her. Her blue eyes, big with apprehension, were
+fixed on him, her little rosy lips were parted. William's heart
+softened.</p>
+
+<p>"I dunno," he said doubtfully. "You might, I s'pose. What d'you want
+for Christmas?"</p>
+
+<p>"You won't tell if I tell you?"</p>
+
+<p>"No."</p>
+
+<p>"Not to no one?"</p>
+
+<p>"No."</p>
+
+<p>"Say, 'Cross me throat.'"</p>
+
+<p>William complied with much interest and stored up the phrase for
+future use.</p>
+
+<p>"Well," she sank her voice very low and spoke into his ear.</p>
+
+<p>"Dad's comin' out Christmas Eve!"</p>
+
+<p>She leant back and watched him, anxious to see the effect of this
+stupendous piece of news. Her face expressed pride and delight,
+William's merely bewilderment.</p>
+
+<p>"Comin' out?" he repeated. "Comin' out of where?"</p>
+
+<p>Her expression changed to one of scorn.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Prison</i>, of course! <i>Silly</i>!"</p>
+
+<p>William was half offended, half thrilled.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I couldn't <i>know</i> it was prison, could I? How could I <i>know</i> it
+was prison without bein' told? It might of been out of anything.
+What&mdash;" in hushed curiosity and awe&mdash;"what was he in prison for?"</p>
+
+<p>"Stealin'."</p>
+
+<p>Her pride was unmistakable. William looked at her in disapproval.</p>
+
+<p>"Stealin's wicked," he said virtuously.</p>
+
+<p>"Huh!" she jeered, "you <i>can't</i> steal! You're too soft! <i>Softie</i>! You
+<i>can't</i> steal without bein' copped fust go, you can't."</p>
+
+<p>"I <i>could</i>!" he said indignantly. "And, any way, he got copped di'n't
+he? or he'd not of been in prison, <i>so there</i>!"</p>
+
+<p>"He di'n't get copped fust go. It was jus' a sorter mistake, he said.
+He said it wun't happen again. He's a jolly good stealer. The cops
+said he was and <i>they</i> oughter know."</p>
+
+<p>"Well," said William changing the conversation, "what d'you want for
+Christmas?"</p>
+
+<p>"I wrote it on a bit of paper an' sent it up the chimney," she said
+confidingly. "I said I di'n't want no toys nor sweeties nor nuffin'. I
+said I only wanted a nice supper for Dad when he comes out Christmas
+Eve. We ain't got much money, me an' Mother, an' we carn't get 'im
+much of a spread, but if this 'ere Christmas chap sends one fer 'im,
+it'll be&mdash;<i>fine</i>!"</p>
+
+<p>Her eyes were dreamy with ecstasy. William stirred uneasily on his
+seat.</p>
+
+<p>"I tol' you it was <i>rot</i>," he said. "There isn't any Father Christmas.
+It's jus' an' ole tale folks tell you when you're a kid, an' you find
+out it's not true. He won't send no supper jus' cause he isn't
+anythin'. He's jus' nothin'&mdash;jus' an ole tale&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, shut <i>up!</i>" William turned sharply at the sound of the shrill
+voice from the bed within the room. "Let the kid 'ave a bit of
+pleasure lookin' forward to it, can't yer? It's little enough she 'as,
+anyway."</p>
+
+<p>William arose with dignity.</p>
+
+<p>"All right," he said. "Go'-bye."</p>
+
+<p>He strolled away down the street.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Softie!</i>"</p>
+
+<p>It was a malicious sweet little voice.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Swank</i>!"</p>
+
+<p>William flushed but forbore to turn round.</p>
+
+<p>That evening he met the little girl from next door in the road outside
+her house.</p>
+
+<p>"Hello, Joan!"</p>
+
+<p>"Hello, William!"</p>
+
+<p>In these blue eyes there was no malice or mockery. To Joan William was
+a god-like hero. His very wickedness partook of the divine.</p>
+
+<p>"Would you&mdash;would you like to come an' make a snow man in our garden,
+William?" she said tentatively.</p>
+
+<p>William knit his brows.</p>
+
+<p>"I dunno," he said ungraciously. "I was jus' kinder thinkin'."</p>
+
+<p>She looked at him silently, hoping that he would deign to tell her his
+thoughts, but not daring to ask. Joan held no modern views on the
+subject of the equality of the sexes.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you remember that ole tale 'bout Father Christmas, Joan?" he said
+at last.</p>
+
+<p>She nodded.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, s'pose you wanted somethin' very bad, an' you believed that ole
+tale and sent a bit of paper up the chimney 'bout what you wanted very
+bad and then you never got it, you'd feel kind of rotten, wouldn't
+you?"</p>
+
+<p>She nodded again.</p>
+
+<p>"I did one time," she said. "I sent a lovely list up the chimney and I
+never told anyone about it and I got lots of things for Christmas and
+not <i>one</i> of the things I'd written for!"</p>
+
+<p>"Did you feel awful rotten?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I did. Awful."</p>
+
+<p>"I say, Joan," importantly, "I've gotter secret."</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Do</i> tell me, William!" she pleaded.</p>
+
+<p>"Can't. It's a crorse-me-throat secret!"</p>
+
+<p>She was mystified and impressed.</p>
+
+<p>"How <i>lovely</i>, William! Is it something you're going to do?"</p>
+
+<p>He considered.</p>
+
+<p>"It might be," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"I'd love to help." She fixed adoring blue eyes upon him.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I'll see," said the lord of creation. "I say, Joan, you comin'
+to my party?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, <i>yes</i>!"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, there's an awful lot comin'. Johnny Brent an' all that lot. I'm
+jolly well not lookin' forward to it, I can <i>tell</i> you."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I'm so sorry! Why did you ask them, William?"</p>
+
+<p>William laughed bitterly.</p>
+
+<p>"Why did I invite them?" he said. "<i>I</i> don't invite people to my
+parties. <i>They</i> do that."</p>
+
+<p>In William's vocabulary "they" always signified his immediate family
+circle.</p>
+
+<p>William had a strong imagination. When an idea took hold upon his
+mind, it was almost impossible for him to let it go. He was quite
+accustomed to Joan's adoring homage. The scornful mockery of his
+auburn-haired friend was something quite new, and in some strange
+fashion it intrigued and fascinated him. Mentally he recalled her
+excited little face, flushed with eagerness as she described the
+expected spread. Mentally also he conceived a vivid picture of the
+long waiting on Christmas Eve, the slowly fading hope, the final
+bitter disappointment. While engaging in furious snowball fights with
+Ginger, Douglas, and Henry, while annoying peaceful passers-by with
+well-aimed snow missiles, while bruising himself and most of his
+family black and blue on long and glassy slides along the garden
+paths, while purloining his family's clothes to adorn various
+unshapely snowmen, while walking across all the ice (preferably
+cracked) in the neighbourhood and being several times narrowly rescued
+from a watery grave&mdash;while following all these light holiday pursuits,
+the picture of the little auburn-haired girl's disappointment was ever
+vividly present in his mind.</p>
+
+<p>The day of his party drew near.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>My</i> party," he would echo bitterly when anyone of his family
+mentioned it. "I don't <i>want</i> it. I don't <i>want</i> ole Johnnie Brent an'
+all that lot. I'd just like to un-invite 'em all."</p>
+
+<p>"But you want Ginger and Douglas and Henry," coaxed his Mother.</p>
+
+<p>"I can have them any time an' I don't like 'em at parties. They're not
+the same. I don't like <i>anyone</i> at parties. I don't <i>want</i> a party!"</p>
+
+<p>"But you <i>must</i> have a party, William, to ask back people who ask
+you."</p>
+
+<p>William took up his previous attitude.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, where's the <i>sense</i> of it?" he groaned.</p>
+
+<p>As usual he had the last word, but left his audience unconvinced. They
+began on him a full hour before his guests were due. He was brushed
+and scrubbed and scoured and cleaned. He was compressed into an Eton
+suit and patent leather pumps and finally deposited in the
+drawing-room, cowed and despondent, his noble spirit all but broken.</p>
+
+<p>The guests began to arrive. William shook hands politely with three
+strangers shining with soap, brushed to excess, and clothed in
+ceremonial Eton suits&mdash;who in ordinary life were Ginger, Douglas, and
+Henry. They then sat down and gazed at each other in strained and
+unnatural silence. They could find nothing to say to each other.
+Ordinary topics seemed to be precluded by their festive appearance and
+the formal nature of the occasion. Their informal meetings were
+usually celebrated by impromptu wrestling matches. This being
+debarred, a stiff, unnatural atmosphere descended upon them. William
+was a "host," they were "guests"; they had all listened to final
+maternal admonitions in which the word "manners" and "politeness"
+recurred at frequent intervals. They were, in fact, for the time
+being, complete strangers.</p>
+
+<p>Then Joan arrived and broke the constrained silence.</p>
+
+<p>"Hullo, William! Oh, William, you do look <i>nice</i>!"</p>
+
+<p>William smiled with distant politeness, but his heart warmed to her.
+It is always some comfort to learn that one has not suffered in vain.</p>
+
+<p>"How d'you do?" he said with a stiff bow.</p>
+
+<p>Then Johnnie Brent came and after him a host of small boys and girls.</p>
+
+<p>William greeted friends and foes alike with the same icy courtesy.</p>
+
+<p>Then the conjurer arrived.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Brown had planned the arrangement most carefully. The supper was
+laid on the big dining room table. There was to be conjuring for an
+hour before supper to "break the ice." In the meantime, while the
+conjuring was going on, the grown-ups who were officiating at the
+party were to have their meal in peace in the library.</p>
+
+<p>William had met the conjurer at various parties and despised him
+utterly. He despised his futile jokes and high-pitched laugh and he
+knew his tricks by heart. They sat in rows in front of
+him&mdash;shining-faced, well-brushed little boys in dark Eton suits and
+gleaming collars, and dainty white-dressed little girls with gay hair
+ribbons. William sat in the back row near the window, and next him sat
+Joan. She gazed at his set, expressionless face in mute sympathy. He
+listened to the monotonous voice of the conjurer.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, ladies and gentlemen, I will proceed to swallow these three
+needles and these three strands of cotton and shortly to bring out
+each needle threaded with a strand of cotton. Will any lady step
+forward and examine the needles? Ladies ought to know all about
+needles, oughtn't they? You young gentlemen don't learn to sew at
+school, do you? Ha! Ha! Perhaps some of you young gentlemen don't know
+what a needle is? Ha! Ha!"</p>
+
+<p>William scowled, and his thoughts flew off to the little house in the
+dirty back street. It was Christmas Eve. Her father was "comin' out."
+She would be waiting, watching with bright, expectant eyes for the
+"spread" she had demanded from Father Christmas to welcome her
+returning parent. It was a beastly shame. She was a silly little ass,
+anyway, not to believe him. He'd told her there wasn't any Father
+Christmas.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, ladies and gentlemen, I will bring out the three needles
+threaded with the three strands of cotton. Watch carefully, ladies and
+gentlemen. There! One! Two! Three! Now, I don't advise you young
+ladies and gentlemen to try this trick. Needles are very indigestible
+to some people. Ha! Ha! Not to me, of course! I can digest
+anything&mdash;needles, or marbles, or matches, or glass bowls&mdash;as you will
+soon see. Ha! Ha! Now to proceed, ladies and gentlemen."</p>
+
+<p>William looked at the clock and sighed. Anyway, there'd be supper
+soon, and that was a jolly good one, 'cause he'd had a look at it.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly the inscrutable look left his countenance. He gave a sudden
+gasp and his whole face lit up. Joan turned to him.</p>
+
+<p>"Come on!" he whispered, rising stealthily from his seat.</p>
+
+<p>The room was in half darkness and the conjurer was just producing a
+white rabbit from his left toe, so that few noticed William's quiet
+exit by the window followed by that of the blindly obedient Joan.</p>
+
+<p>"You wait!" he whispered in the darkness of the garden. She waited,
+shivering in her little white muslin dress, till he returned from the
+stable wheeling a hand-cart, consisting of a large packing case on
+wheels and finished with a handle. He wheeled it round to the open
+French window that led into the dining-room. "Come on!" he whispered
+again.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 332px;">
+<a href="images/fig32.jpg"><img src="images/fig32_t.jpg" width="332" height="400"
+alt="Few noticed William&#39;s exit by the window, followed by the blindly obedient
+Joan." title="Few noticed William&#39;s exit by the window, followed by the blindly
+obedient Joan." /></a>
+<span class="caption">Few noticed William&#39;s exit by the window, followed by the
+blindly obedient Joan.</span>
+<br /></div>
+
+<p>Following his example, she began to carry the plates of sandwiches,
+sausage rolls, meat pies, bread and butter, cakes and biscuits of
+every variety from the table to the hand-cart. On the top they
+balanced carefully the plates of jelly and blanc-mange and dishes of
+trifle, and round the sides they packed armfuls of crackers.</p>
+
+<p>At the end she whispered softly, "What's it for, William?"</p>
+
+<p>"It's the secret," he said. "The crorse-me-throat secret I told you."</p>
+
+<p>"Am I going to help?" she said in delight.</p>
+
+<p>He nodded.</p>
+
+<p>"Jus' wait a minute," he added, and crept from the dining-room to the
+hall and upstairs.</p>
+
+<p>He returned with a bundle of clothing which he proceeded to arrange in
+the garden. He first donned his own red dressing gown and then wound a
+white scarf round his head, tying it under his chin so that the ends
+hung down.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm makin' believe I'm Father Christmas," he deigned to explain. "An'
+I'm makin' believe this white stuff is hair an' beard. An' this is for
+you to wear so's you won't get cold."</p>
+
+<p>He held out a little white satin cloak edged with swansdown.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, how <i>lovely</i>, William! But it's not my cloak! It's Sadie
+Murford's!"</p>
+
+<p>"Never mind! you can wear it," said William generously.</p>
+
+<p>Then, taking the handles of the cart, he set off down the drive. From
+the drawing-room came the sound of a chorus of delight as the conjurer
+produced a goldfish in a glass bowl from his head. From the kitchen
+came the sound of the hilarious laughter of the maids. Only in the
+dining-room, with its horrible expanse of empty table, was silence.</p>
+
+<p>They walked down the road without speaking till Joan gave a little
+excited laugh.</p>
+
+<p>"This is <i>fun</i>, William! I do wonder what we're going to do."</p>
+
+<p>"You'll see," said William. "I'd better not tell you yet. I promised a
+crorse-me-throat promise I wouldn't tell anyone."</p>
+
+<p>"All right, William," she said sweetly. "I don't mind a bit."</p>
+
+<p>The evening was dark and rather foggy, so that the strange couple
+attracted little attention, except when passing beneath the street
+lamps. Then certainly people stood still and looked at William and his
+cart in open-mouthed amazement.</p>
+
+<p>At last they turned down a back street towards a door that stood open
+to the dark, foggy night. Inside the room was a bare table at which
+sat a little girl, her blue, anxious eyes fixed on the open door.</p>
+
+<p>"I hope he gets here before Dad," she said. "I wouldn't like Dad to
+come and find it not ready!"</p>
+
+<p>The woman on the bed closed her eyes wearily.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't think he'll come now, dearie. We must just get on without
+it."</p>
+
+<p>The little girl sprang up, her pale cheek suddenly flushed.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, <i>listen</i>!" she cried; "<i>something's</i> coming!"</p>
+
+<p>They listened in breathless silence, while the sound of wheels came
+down the street towards the empty door. Then&mdash;an old hand-cart
+appeared in the doorway and behind it William in his strange attire,
+and Joan in her fairy-like white&mdash;white cloak, white dress, white
+socks and shoes&mdash;her bright curls clustered with gleaming fog jewels.</p>
+
+<p>The little girl clasped her hands. Her face broke into a rapt smile.
+Her blue eyes were like stars.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
+<a href="images/fig33.jpg"><img src="images/fig33_t.jpg" width="400" height="328"
+alt="First the jellies and blanc manges&mdash;then the meat pies and trifles."
+title="First the jellies and blanc manges&mdash;then the meat pies and trifles." /></a>
+<span class="caption">First the jellies and blanc manges&mdash;then the meat pies and
+trifles.</span><br /></div>
+
+<p>"Oh, oh!" she cried. "It's Father Christmas and a fairy!"</p>
+
+<p>Without a word William pushed the cart through the doorway into the
+room and began to remove its contents and place them on the table.
+First the jellies and trifles and blanc-manges, then the meat pies,
+pastries, sausage rolls, sandwiches, biscuits, and
+cakes&mdash;sugar-coated, cream-interlayered, full of plums and nuts and
+fruit. William's mother had had wide experience and knew well what
+food most appealed to small boys and girls. Moreover she had provided
+plentifully for her twenty guests.</p>
+
+<p>The little girl was past speech. The woman looked at them in dumb
+wonder. Then:</p>
+
+<p>"Why, you're the boy she was talkin' to," she said at last. "It's real
+kind of you. She was gettin' that upset. It 'ud have broke her heart
+if nothin' had come an' I couldn't do nothin'. It's real kind of yer,
+sir!" Her eyes were misty.</p>
+
+<p>Joan placed the last cake on the table, and William, who was rather
+warm after his exertions, removed his scarf.</p>
+
+<p>The child gave a little sobbing laugh.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, isn't it <i>lovely</i>? I'm so happy! You're the funny boy, aren't
+you, dressed up as Father Christmas? Or did Father Christmas send you?
+Or were you Father Christmas all the time? May I kiss the fairy? Would
+she mind? She's so beautiful!"</p>
+
+<p>Joan came forward and kissed her shyly, and the woman on the bed
+smiled unsteadily.</p>
+
+<p>"It's real kind of you both," she murmured again.</p>
+
+<p>Then the door opened, and the lord and master of the house entered
+after his six months' absence. He came in no sheepish hang-dog
+fashion. He entered cheerily and boisterously as any parent might on
+returning from a hard-earned holiday.</p>
+
+<p>"'Ello, Missus! 'Ello, Kid! 'Ello! Wot's all this 'ere?" His eyes fell
+upon William. "'Ello young gent!"</p>
+
+<p>"Happy Christmas," William murmured politely.</p>
+
+<p>"Sime to you an' many of them. 'Ow are you, Missus? Kid looked arter
+you all right? That's <i>right</i>. Oh, I <i>sye</i>! Where's the grub come
+from? Fair mikes me mouth water. I 'aven't seen nuffin' like
+<i>this</i>&mdash;not fer <i>some</i> time!"</p>
+
+<p>There was a torrent of explanations, everyone talking at once. He gave
+a loud guffaw at the end.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, we're much obliged to this young gent and this little lady, and
+now we'll 'ave a good ole supper. This is all <i>right</i>, this is! Now,
+Missus, you 'ave a good feed. Now, 'fore we begin, I sye three cheers
+fer the young gent and little lady. Come on, now, 'Ip, 'ip, 'ip,
+'<i>ooray</i>! Now, little lady, you come 'ere. That's fine, that is! Now
+'oo'll 'ave a meat pie? 'Oo's fer a meat pie? Come on, Missus! That's
+right. We'll <i>all</i> 'ave meat pies! This 'ere's sumfin <i>like</i>
+Christmas, eh? We've not 'ad a Christmas like this&mdash;not for many a
+long year. Now, 'urry up, Kid. Don't spend all yer time larfin'. Now,
+ladies an' gents, 'oo's fer a sausage roll? All of us? Come on, then!
+I mustn't eat too 'eavy or I won't be able to sing to yer aterwards,
+will I? I've got some fine songs, young gent. And Kid 'ere 'll dance
+fer yer. She's a fine little dancer, she is! Now, come on, ladies an'
+gents, sandwiches? More pies? Come on!"</p>
+
+<p>They laughed and chattered merrily. The woman sat up in bed, her eyes
+bright and her cheeks flushed. To William and Joan it was like some
+strange and wonderful dream.</p>
+
+<p>And at that precise moment Mrs. Brown had sunk down upon the nearest
+dining-room chair on the verge of tears, and twenty pairs of hungry
+horrified eyes in twenty clean, staring, open-mouthed little faces
+surveyed the bare expanse of the dining-room table. And the cry that
+went up all round was:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Where's William?</i>"</p>
+
+<p>And then:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Where's Joan?</i>"</p>
+
+<p>They searched the house and garden and stable for them in vain. They
+sent the twenty enraged guests home supperless and aggrieved.</p>
+
+<p>"Has William eaten <i>all</i> our suppers?" they said.</p>
+
+<p>"Where <i>is</i> he? Is he dead?"</p>
+
+<p>"People will never forget," wailed Mrs. Brown. "It's simply dreadful.
+And where <i>is</i> William?"</p>
+
+<p>They rang up police-stations for miles around.</p>
+
+<p>"If they've eaten all that food&mdash;the two of them," said Mrs. Brown
+almost distraught, "they'll <i>die</i>! They may be dying in some hospital
+now! And I do wish Mrs. Murford would stop ringing up about Sadie's
+cloak. I've told her it's not here!"</p>
+
+<p>Meantime there was dancing, and singing, and games, and
+cracker-pulling in a small house in a back street not very far away.</p>
+
+<p>"I've never had such a <i>lovely</i> time in my life," gasped the Kid
+breathlessly at the end of one of the many games into which William
+had initiated them. "I've never, never, <i>never</i>&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"We won't ferget you in a 'urry, young man," her father added, "nor
+the little lady neither. We'll 'ave many talks about this 'ere!"</p>
+
+<p>Joan was sitting on the bed, laughing and panting, her curls all
+disordered.</p>
+
+<p>"I wish," said William wistfully, "I wish you'd let me come with you
+when you go stealin' some day!"</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not goin' stealin' <i>no</i> more, young gent," said his friend
+solemnly. "I got a job&mdash;a real steady job&mdash;brick-layin', an' I'm goin'
+to stick to it."</p>
+
+<p>All good things must come to an end, and soon William donned his red
+dressing-gown again and Joan her borrowed cloak, and they helped to
+store the remnants of the feast in the larder&mdash;the remnants of the
+feast would provide the ex-burglar and his family with food for many
+days to come. Then they took the empty hand-cart and, after many fond
+farewells, set off homeward through the dark.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Brown had come home and assumed charge of operations.</p>
+
+<p>Ethel was weeping on the sofa in the library.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, dear little William!" she sobbed. "I do <i>wish</i> I'd always been
+kind to him!"</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Brown was reclining, pale and haggard, in the arm-chair.</p>
+
+<p>"There's the Roughborough Canal, John!" she was saying weakly. "And
+Joan's mother will always say it was our fault. Oh, <i>poor</i> little
+William!"</p>
+
+<p>"It's a good ten miles away," said her husband drily. "I don't think
+even William&mdash;&mdash;" He rang up fiercely. "Confound these brainless police!
+Hallo! Any news? A boy and girl and supper for twenty can't disappear
+off the face of the earth. No, there had been <i>no</i> trouble at home.
+There probably <i>will</i> be when he turns up, but there was none before!
+If he wanted to run away, why would he burden himself with a supper
+for twenty? Why&mdash;one minute!"</p>
+
+<p>The front door opened and Mrs. Brown ran into the hall.</p>
+
+<p>A well-known voice was heard speaking quickly and irritably.</p>
+
+<p>"I jus' went away, that's all! I jus' thought of something I wanted to
+do, that's all! Yes, I <i>did</i> take the supper. I jus' wanted it for
+something. It's a secret what I wanted it for, I&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"<i>William</i>!" said Mr. Brown.</p>
+
+<p>Through the scenes that followed William preserved a dignified
+silence, even to the point of refusing any explanation. Such
+explanation as there was filtered through from Joan's mother by means
+of the telephone.</p>
+
+<p>"It was all William's idea," Joan's mother said plaintively. "Joan
+would never have done <i>anything</i> if William hadn't practically <i>made</i>
+her. I expect she's caught her death of cold. She's in bed now&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, so is William. I can't <i>think</i> what they wanted to take <i>all</i>
+the food for. And he was just a common man straight from prison. It's
+dreadful. I do hope they haven't picked up any awful language. Have
+you given Joan some quinine? Oh, Mrs. Murford's just rung up to see if
+Sadie's cloak has turned up. Will you send it round? I feel so <i>upset</i>
+by it all. If it wasn't Christmas Eve&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 128px;">
+<img src="images/fig34.jpg" width="128" height="700" alt="&quot;Wasn&#39;t she a
+jolly little kid?&quot; William said eagerly." title="&quot;Wasn&#39;t she a jolly
+little kid?&quot; William said eagerly." />
+<span class="caption">&quot;Wasn&#39;t she a jolly little kid?&quot; William said
+eagerly.</span></div>
+<div class="figright" style="width: 273px;">
+<img src="images/fig35.jpg" width="273" height="700" alt="&quot;Yes,&quot; a pause,
+then&mdash;&quot;William, you don&#39;t like her better than me, do you?&quot;"
+title="&quot;Yes,&quot; a pause, then&mdash;&quot;William, you don&#39;t like
+her better than me, do you?&quot;" /><span class="caption">&quot;Yes,&quot; a pause,
+then&mdash;&quot;William, you don&#39;t like her better than me, do you?&quot;</span>
+<br /></div>
+
+
+<p>The houses occupied by William's and Joan's families respectively were
+semi-detached, but William's and Joan's bedroom windows faced each
+other, and there was only about five yards between them.</p>
+
+<p>There came to William's ears as he lay drowsily in bed the sound of a
+gentle rattle at the window. He got up and opened it. At the opposite
+window a little white-robed figure leant out, whose golden curls shone
+in the starlight.</p>
+
+<p>"William," she whispered, "I threw some beads to see if you were
+awake. Were your folks mad?"</p>
+
+<p>"Awful," said William laconically.</p>
+
+<p>"Mine were too. I di'n't care, did you?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, I di'n't. Not a bit!"</p>
+
+<p>"William, wasn't it <i>fun</i>? I wish it was just beginning again, don't
+you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I jus' do. I say, Joan, wasn't she a jolly little kid and di'n't
+she dance fine?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes,"&mdash;a pause&mdash;then, "William, you don't like her better'n me, do
+you?"</p>
+
+<p>William considered.</p>
+
+<p>"No, I don't," he said at last.</p>
+
+<p>A soft sigh of relief came through the darkness.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm so <i>glad</i>! Go'-night, William."</p>
+
+<p>"Go'-night," said William sleepily, drawing down his window as he
+spoke.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr class="full" />
+<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MORE WILLIAM***</p>
+<p>******* This file should be named 17125-h.txt or 17125-h.zip *******</p>
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@@ -0,0 +1,7415 @@
+The Project Gutenberg eBook, More William, by Richmal Crompton,
+Illustrated by Thomas Henry
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+
+
+
+Title: More William
+
+
+Author: Richmal Crompton
+
+
+
+Release Date: November 21, 2005  [eBook #17125]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII)
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MORE WILLIAM***
+
+
+E-text prepared by David Clarke, Geetu Melwani, and the Project Gutenberg
+Online Distributed Proofreading Team (https://www.pgdp.net/)
+
+
+
+Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this
+      file which includes the original illustrations.
+      See 17125-h.htm or 17125-h.zip:
+      (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/7/1/2/17125/17125-h/17125-h.htm)
+      or
+      (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/7/1/2/17125/17125-h.zip)
+
+
+
+
+
+MORE WILLIAM
+
+by
+
+RICHMAL CROMPTON
+
+Illustrated by Thomas Henry
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+London
+George Newnes, Limited
+Southampton St., Strand, W.C.
+
+
+
+[Illustration: "WOT YOU DRESSED UP LIKE THAT FOR?" SAID THE
+APPARITION, WITH A TOUCH OF SCORN IN HIS VOICE.
+(See Chapter IX: The Revenge.)]
+
+
+
+First Edition           December  1922
+Second Impression       January   1923
+Third Impression        February  1923
+Fourth Impression       July      1923
+Fifth Impression        September 1923
+Sixth Impression        December  1923
+Seventh Impression      February  1924
+Eighth Impression       July      1924
+Ninth Impression        November  1924
+Made and Printed in Great Britain by Wyman & Son, Ltd., London,
+Fakenham and Reading.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+     CHAPTER                              PAGE
+
+     I.    A Busy Day                      11
+
+     II.   Rice-Mould                      31
+
+     III.  William's Burglar               49
+
+     IV.   The Knight at Arms              67
+
+     V.    William's Hobby                 78
+
+     VI.   The Rivals                      89
+
+     VII.  The Ghost                      110
+
+     VIII. The May King                   125
+
+     IX.   The Revenge                    144
+
+     X.    The Helper                     157
+
+     XI.   William and the Smuggler       174
+
+     XII.  The Reform of William          197
+
+     XIII. William and the Ancient Souls  213
+
+     XIV.  William's Christmas Eve        228
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+A BUSY DAY
+
+
+William awoke and rubbed his eyes. It was Christmas Day--the day to
+which he had looked forward with mingled feelings for twelve months.
+It was a jolly day, of course--presents and turkey and crackers and
+staying up late. On the other hand, there were generally too many
+relations about, too much was often expected of one, the curious taste
+displayed by people who gave one presents often marred one's pleasure.
+
+He looked round his bedroom expectantly. On the wall, just opposite
+his bed, was a large illuminated card hanging by a string from a
+nail--"A Busy Day is a Happy Day." That had not been there the day
+before. Brightly-coloured roses and forget-me-nots and honeysuckle
+twined round all the words. William hastily thought over the three
+aunts staying in the house, and put it down to Aunt Lucy. He looked at
+it with a doubtful frown. He distrusted the sentiment.
+
+A copy of "Portraits of our Kings and Queens" he put aside as beneath
+contempt. "Things a Boy Can Do" was more promising. _Much_ more
+promising. After inspecting a penknife, a pocket-compass, and a
+pencil-box (which shared the fate of "Portraits of our Kings and
+Queens"), William returned to "Things a Boy Can Do." As he turned the
+pages, his face lit up.
+
+He leapt lightly out of bed and dressed. Then he began to arrange his
+own gifts to his family. For his father he had bought a bottle of
+highly-coloured sweets, for his elder brother Robert (aged nineteen)
+he had expended a vast sum of money on a copy of "The Pirates of the
+Bloody Hand." These gifts had cost him much thought. The knowledge
+that his father never touched sweets, and that Robert professed scorn
+of pirate stories, had led him to hope that the recipients of his
+gifts would make no objection to the unobtrusive theft of them by
+their recent donor in the course of the next few days. For his
+grown-up sister Ethel he had bought a box of coloured chalks. That
+also might come in useful later. Funds now had been running low, but
+for his mother he had bought a small cream-jug which, after fierce
+bargaining, the man had let him have at half-price because it was
+cracked.
+
+Singing "Christians Awake!" at the top of his lusty young voice, he
+went along the landing, putting his gifts outside the doors of his
+family, and pausing to yell "Happy Christmas" as he did so. From
+within he was greeted in each case by muffled groans.
+
+He went downstairs into the hall, still singing. It was earlier than
+he thought--just five o'clock. The maids were not down yet. He
+switched on lights recklessly, and discovered that he was not the only
+person in the hall. His four-year-old cousin Jimmy was sitting on the
+bottom step in an attitude of despondency, holding an empty tin.
+
+Jimmy's mother had influenza at home, and Jimmy and his small sister
+Barbara were in the happy position of spending Christmas with
+relations, but immune from parental or maternal interference.
+
+"They've gotten out," said Jimmy, sadly. "I got 'em for presents
+yesterday, an' they've gotten out. I've been feeling for 'em in the
+dark, but I can't find 'em."
+
+"What?" said William.
+
+"Snails. Great big suge ones wiv great big suge shells. I put 'em in a
+tin for presents an' they've gotten out an' I've gotten no presents
+for nobody."
+
+He relapsed into despondency.
+
+William surveyed the hall.
+
+"They've got out right enough!" he said, sternly. "They've got out
+right _enough_. Jus' look at our hall! Jus' look at our clothes!
+They've got out _right_ enough."
+
+Innumerable slimy iridescent trails shone over hats, and coats, and
+umbrellas, and wall-paper.
+
+"Huh!" grunted William, who was apt to overwork his phrases. "They've
+got _out_ right enough."
+
+He looked at the tracks again and brightened. Jimmy was frankly
+delighted.
+
+"Oo! Look!" he cried, "Oo _funny_!"
+
+William's thoughts flew back to his bedroom wall--"A Busy Day is a
+Happy Day."
+
+"Let's clean it up!" he said. "Let's have it all nice an' clean for
+when they come down. We'll be busy. You tell me if you feel happy when
+we've done. It might be true wot it says, but I don't like the flowers
+messin' all over it."
+
+Investigation in the kitchen provided them with a large pail of water
+and a scrubbing-brush each.
+
+For a long time they worked in silence. They used plenty of water.
+When they had finished the trails were all gone. Each soaked garment
+on the hat-stand was sending a steady drip on to the already flooded
+floor. The wall-paper was sodden. With a feeling of blankness they
+realised that there was nothing else to clean.
+
+It was Jimmy who conceived the exquisite idea of dipping his brush in
+the bucket and sprinkling William with water. A scrubbing-brush is in
+many ways almost as good as a hose. Each had a pail of ammunition.
+Each had a good-sized brush. During the next few minutes they
+experienced purest joy. Then William heard threatening movements
+above, and decided hastily that the battle must cease.
+
+"Backstairs," he said shortly. "Come on."
+
+Marking their track by a running stream of water, they crept up the
+backstairs.
+
+But two small boys soaked to the skin could not disclaim all
+knowledge of a flooded hall.
+
+William was calm and collected when confronted with a distracted
+mother.
+
+"We was tryin' to clean up," he said. "We found all snail marks an' we
+was tryin' to clean up. We was tryin' to help. You said so last night,
+you know, when you was talkin' to me. You said to _help_. Well, I
+thought it was helpin' to try an' clean up. You can't clean up with
+water an' not get wet--not if you do it prop'ly. You said to try an'
+make Christmas Day happy for other folks and then I'd be happy. Well,
+I don't know as I'm very happy," he said, bitterly, "but I've been
+workin' hard enough since early this mornin'. I've been workin'," he
+went on pathetically. His eye wandered to the notice on his wall.
+"I've been _busy_ all right, but it doesn't make me _happy_--not jus'
+now," he added, with memories of the rapture of the fight. That
+certainly must be repeated some time. Buckets of water and
+scrubbing-brushes. He wondered he'd never thought of that before.
+
+William's mother looked down at his dripping form.
+
+"Did you get all that water with just cleaning up the snail marks?"
+she said.
+
+William coughed and cleared his throat. "Well," he said,
+deprecatingly, "most of it. I think I got most of it."
+
+"If it wasn't Christmas Day ..." she went on darkly.
+
+William's spirits rose. There was certainly something to be said for
+Christmas Day.
+
+It was decided to hide the traces of the crime as far as possible from
+William's father. It was felt--and not without reason--that William's
+father's feelings of respect for the sanctity of Christmas Day might
+be overcome by his feelings of paternal ire.
+
+Half-an-hour later William, dried, dressed, brushed, and chastened,
+descended the stairs as the gong sounded in a hall which was bare of
+hats and coats, and whose floor shone with cleanliness.
+
+"And jus' to think," said William, despondently, "that it's only jus'
+got to brekfust time."
+
+William's father was at the bottom of the stairs. William's father
+frankly disliked Christmas Day.
+
+"Good-morning, William," he said, "and a happy Christmas, and I hope
+it's not too much to ask of you that on this relation-infested day
+one's feelings may be harrowed by you as little as possible. And why
+the deu--dickens they think it necessary to wash the hall floor before
+breakfast, Heaven only knows!"
+
+William coughed, a cough meant to be a polite mixture of greeting and
+deference. William's face was a study in holy innocence. His father
+glanced at him suspiciously. There were certain expressions of
+William's that he distrusted.
+
+William entered the dining-room morosely. Jimmy's sister Barbara--a
+small bundle of curls and white frills--was already beginning her
+porridge.
+
+"Goo' mornin'," she said, politely, "did you hear me cleanin' my
+teef?"
+
+He crushed her with a glance.
+
+He sat eating in silence till everyone had come down, and Aunts Jane,
+Evangeline, and Lucy were consuming porridge with that mixture of
+festivity and solemnity that they felt the occasion demanded.
+
+Then Jimmy entered, radiant, with a tin in his hand.
+
+"Got presents," he said, proudly. "Got presents, lots of presents."
+
+He deposited on Barbara's plate a worm which Barbara promptly threw at
+his face. Jimmy looked at her reproachfully and proceeded to Aunt
+Evangeline. Aunt Evangeline's gift was a centipede--a live centipede
+that ran gaily off the tablecloth on to Aunt Evangeline's lap before
+anyone could stop it. With a yell that sent William's father to the
+library with his hands to his ears, Aunt Evangeline leapt to her chair
+and stood with her skirts held to her knees.
+
+"Help! Help!" she cried. "The horrible boy! Catch it! Kill it!"
+
+Jimmy gazed at her in amazement, and Barbara looked with interest at
+Aunt Evangeline's long expanse of shin.
+
+"_My_ legs isn't like _your_ legs," she said pleasantly and
+conversationally. "My legs is knees."
+
+It was some time before order was restored, the centipede killed, and
+Jimmy's remaining gifts thrown out of the window. William looked
+across the table at Jimmy with respect in his eye. Jimmy, in spite of
+his youth, was an acquaintance worth cultivating. Jimmy was eating
+porridge unconcernedly.
+
+Aunt Evangeline had rushed from the room when the slaughter of the
+centipede had left the coast clear, and refused to return. She carried
+on a conversation from the top of the stairs.
+
+"When that horrible child has gone, I'll come. He may have insects
+concealed on his person. And someone's been dropping water all over
+these stairs. They're _damp_!"
+
+"Dear, dear!" murmured Aunt Jane, sadly.
+
+Jimmy looked up from his porridge.
+
+"How was I to know she didn't like insecks?" he said, aggrievedly.
+"_I_ like 'em."
+
+William's mother's despair was only tempered by the fact that this
+time William was not the culprit. To William also it was a novel
+sensation. He realised the advantages of a fellow criminal.
+
+After breakfast peace reigned. William's father went out for a walk
+with Robert. The aunts sat round the drawing-room fire talking and
+doing crochet-work. In this consists the whole art and duty of
+aunthood. _All_ aunts do crochet-work.
+
+They had made careful inquiries about the time of the service.
+
+"You needn't worry," had said William's mother. "It's at 10.30, and
+if you go to get ready when the clock in the library strikes ten it
+will give you heaps of time."
+
+[Illustration: AROUND THEM LAY, MOST INDECENTLY EXPOSED, THE INTERNAL
+ARRANGEMENTS OF THE LIBRARY CLOCK.]
+
+Peace ... calm ... quiet. Mrs. Brown and Ethel in the kitchen
+supervising the arrangements for the day. The aunts in the
+drawing-room discussing over their crochet-work the terrible way in
+which their sisters had brought up their children. That, also, is a
+necessary part of aunthood.
+
+Time slipped by happily and peacefully. Then William's mother came
+into the drawing-room.
+
+"I thought you were going to church," she said.
+
+"We are. The clock hasn't struck."
+
+"But--it's eleven o'clock!"
+
+There was a gasp of dismay.
+
+"The clock never struck!"
+
+Indignantly they set off to the library. Peace and quiet reigned also
+in the library. On the floor sat William and Jimmy gazing with frowns
+of concentration at an open page of "Things a Boy Can Do." Around them
+lay most indecently exposed the internal arrangements of the library
+clock.
+
+"William! You _wicked_ boy!"
+
+William raised a frowning face.
+
+"It's not put together right," he said, "it's not been put together
+right all this time. We're makin' it right now. It must have wanted
+mendin' for ever so long. _I_ dunno how it's been goin' at all. It's
+lucky we found it out. It's put together wrong. I guess it's _made_
+wrong. It's goin' to be a lot of trouble to us to put it right, an' we
+can't do much when you're all standin' in the light. We're very
+busy--workin' at tryin' to mend this ole clock for you all."
+
+"Clever," said Jimmy, admiringly. "Mendin' the clock. _Clever!_"
+
+"William!" groaned his mother, "you've ruined the clock. What _will_
+your father say?"
+
+"Well, the cog-wheels was wrong," said William doggedly. "See? An'
+this ratchet-wheel isn't on the pawl prop'ly--not like what this book
+says it ought to be. Seems we've got to take it all to pieces to get
+it right. Seems to me the person wot made this clock didn't know much
+about clock-making. Seems to me----"
+
+"Be _quiet_, William!"
+
+"We was be quietin' 'fore you came in," said Jimmy, severely. "You
+'sturbed us."
+
+"Leave it just as it is, William," said his mother.
+
+"You don't _unnerstand_," said William with the excitement of the
+fanatic. "The cog-wheel an' the ratchet ought to be put on the arbor
+different. See, this is the cog-wheel. Well, it oughtn't to be like
+wot it was. It was put on all _wrong_. Well, we was mendin' it. An' we
+was doin' it for _you_," he ended, bitterly, "jus' to help an'--to--to
+make other folks happy. It makes folks happy havin' clocks goin'
+right, anyone would _think_. But if you _want_ your clocks put
+together wrong, _I_ don't care."
+
+He picked up his book and walked proudly from the room followed by the
+admiring Jimmy.
+
+"William," said Aunt Lucy patiently, as he passed, "I don't want to
+say anything unkind, and I hope you won't remember all your life that
+you have completely spoilt this Christmas Day for me."
+
+"Oh, dear!" murmured Aunt Jane, sadly.
+
+William, with a look before which she should have sunk into the earth,
+answered shortly that he didn't think he would.
+
+During the midday dinner the grown-ups, as is the foolish fashion of
+grown-ups, wasted much valuable time in the discussion of such
+futilities as the weather and the political state of the nation. Aunt
+Lucy was still suffering and aggrieved.
+
+"I can go this evening, of course," she said, "but it's not quite the
+same. The morning service is different. Yes, please, dear--_and_
+stuffing. Yes, I'll have a little more turkey, too. And, of course,
+the vicar may not preach to-night. That makes such a difference. The
+gravy on the potatoes, please. It's almost the first Christmas I've
+not been in the morning. It seems quite to have spoilt the day for
+me."
+
+She bent on William a glance of gentle reproach. William was quite
+capable of meeting adequately that or any other glance, but at present
+he was too busy for minor hostilities. He was _extremely_ busy. He was
+doing his utmost to do full justice to a meal that only happens once a
+year.
+
+"William," said Barbara pleasantly, "I can _dweam_. Can you?"
+
+He made no answer.
+
+"Answer your cousin, William," said his mother.
+
+He swallowed, then spoke plaintively, "You always say not to talk with
+my mouth full," he said.
+
+"You could speak when you've finished the mouthful."
+
+"No. 'Cause I want to fill it again then," said William, firmly.
+
+"Dear, _dear_!" murmured Aunt Jane.
+
+This was Aunt Jane's usual contribution to any conversation.
+
+He looked coldly at the three pairs of horrified aunts' eyes around
+him, then placidly continued his meal.
+
+Mrs. Brown hastily changed the subject of conversation. The art of
+combining the duties of mother and hostess is sometimes a difficult
+one.
+
+Christmas afternoon is a time of rest. The three aunts withdrew from
+public life. Aunt Lucy found a book of sermons in the library and
+retired to her bedroom with it.
+
+"It's the next best thing, I think," she said with a sad glance at
+William.
+
+William was beginning definitely to dislike Aunt Lucy.
+
+"Please'm," said the cook an hour later, "the mincing machine's
+disappeared."
+
+"Disappeared?" said William's mother, raising her hand to her head.
+
+"Clean gone'm. 'Ow'm I to get the supper'm? You said as 'ow I could
+get it done this afternoon so as to go to church this evening. I can't
+do nuffink with the mincing machine gone."
+
+"I'll come and look."
+
+They searched every corner of the kitchen, then William's mother had
+an idea. William's mother had not been William's mother for eleven
+years without learning many things. She went wearily up to William's
+bedroom.
+
+William was sitting on the floor. Open beside him was "Things a Boy
+Can Do." Around him lay various parts of the mincing machine. His face
+was set and strained in mental and physical effort. He looked up as
+she entered.
+
+"It's a funny kind of mincing machine," he said, crushingly. "It's not
+got enough parts. It's _made_ wrong----"
+
+"Do you know," she said, slowly, "that we've all been looking for that
+mincin' machine for the last half-hour?"
+
+"No," he said without much interest, "I di'n't. I'd have told you I
+was mendin' it if you'd told me you was lookin' for it. It's _wrong_,"
+he went on aggrievedly. "I can't make anything with it. Look! It says
+in my book 'How to make a model railway signal with parts of a mincing
+machine.' Listen! It says, 'Borrow a mincing machine from your
+mother----"
+
+"Did you borrow it?" said Mrs. Brown.
+
+"Yes. Well, I've got it, haven't I? I went all the way down to the
+kitchen for it."
+
+"Who lent it to you?"
+
+"No one _lent_ it me. I _borrowed_ it. I thought you'd like to see a
+model railway signal. I thought you'd be interested. Anyone would
+think anyone would be interested in seein' a railway signal made out
+of a mincin' machine."
+
+His tone implied that the dullness of people in general was simply
+beyond him. "An' you haven't got a right sort of mincin' machine. It's
+wrong. Its parts are the wrong shape. I've been hammerin' them, tryin'
+to make them right, but they're _made_ wrong."
+
+Mrs. Brown was past expostulating. "Take them all down to the kitchen
+to cook," she said. "She's waiting for them."
+
+On the stairs William met Aunt Lucy carrying her volume of sermons.
+
+"It's not quite the same as the spoken word, William, dear," she said.
+"It hasn't the _force_. The written word doesn't reach the _heart_ as
+the spoken word does, but I don't want you to worry about it."
+
+William walked on as if he had not heard her.
+
+It was Aunt Jane who insisted on the little entertainment after tea.
+
+"I _love_ to hear the dear children recite," she said. "I'm sure they
+all have some little recitation they can say."
+
+Barbara arose with shy delight to say her piece.
+
+    "Lickle bwown seed, lickle bwown bwother,
+     And what, pway, are you goin' to be?
+     I'll be a poppy as white as my mother,
+     Oh, DO be a poppy like me!
+     What, you'll be a sunflower? Oh, how I shall miss you
+     When you are golden and high!
+     But I'll send all the bees up to tiss you.
+     Lickle bwown bwother, good-bye!"
+
+She sat down blushing, amid rapturous applause.
+
+Next Jimmy was dragged from his corner. He stood up as one prepared
+for the worst, shut his eyes, and--
+
+    "Licklaxokindness lickledeedsolove--
+     make--thisearfanedenliketheeav'nabovethasalliknow."
+
+he gasped all in one breath, and sat down panting.
+
+This was greeted with slightly milder applause.
+
+"Now, William!"
+
+"I don't know any," he said.
+
+"Oh, you _do_," said his mother. "Say the one you learnt at school
+last term. Stand up, dear, and speak clearly."
+
+Slowly William rose to his feet.
+
+     "_It was the schooner Hesperus that sailed the wintry sea_,"
+
+he began.
+
+Here he stopped, coughed, cleared his throat, and began again.
+
+     "_It was the schooner Hesperus that sailed the wintry sea._"
+
+"Oh, get _on_!" muttered his brother, irritably.
+
+[Illustration: "IT WAS THE HESPER SCHOONERUS THAT SAILED THE WINTRY
+SEA AN' I'M NOT GOIN' ON IF ETHEL'S GOIN' TO KEEP GIGGLIN'."]
+
+"I can't get on if you keep talkin' to me," said William, sternly.
+"How can I get on if you keep takin' all the time up _sayin'_ get on?
+I can't get on if you're talkin', can I?"
+
+"It was the Hesper Schoonerus that sailed the wintry sea an' I'm not
+goin' on if Ethel's goin' to keep gigglin'. It's not a funny piece,
+an' if she's goin' on gigglin' like that I'm not sayin' any more of
+it."
+
+"Ethel, dear!" murmured Mrs. Brown, reproachfully. Ethel turned her
+chair completely round and left her back only exposed to William's
+view. He glared at it suspiciously.
+
+"Now, William dear," continued his mother, "begin again and no one
+shall interrupt you."
+
+William again went through the preliminaries of coughing and clearing
+his throat.
+
+     "_It was the schooner Hesperus that sailed the wintry seas._"
+
+He stopped again, and slowly and carefully straightened his collar and
+smoothed back the lock of hair which was dangling over his brow.
+
+"_The skipper had brought----_" prompted Aunt Jane, kindly.
+
+William turned on her.
+
+"I was _goin'_ to say that if you'd left me alone," he said. "I was
+jus' thinkin'. I've got to think sometimes. I can't say off a great
+long pome like that without stoppin' to think sometimes, can I?
+I'll--I'll do a conjuring trick for you instead," he burst out,
+desperately. "I've learnt one from my book. I'll go an' get it ready."
+
+He went out of the room. Mr. Brown took out his handkerchief and
+mopped his brow.
+
+"May I ask," he said patiently, "how long this exhibition is to be
+allowed to continue?"
+
+Here William returned, his pockets bulging. He held a large
+handkerchief in his hand.
+
+"This is a handkerchief," he announced. "If anyone'd like to feel it
+to see if it's a real one, they can. Now I want a shilling," he looked
+round expectantly, but no one moved, "or a penny would do," he said,
+with a slightly disgusted air. Robert threw one across the room.
+"Well, I put the penny into the handkerchief. You can see me do it,
+can't you? If anyone wants to come an' feel the penny is in the
+handkerchief, they can. Well," he turned his back on them and took
+something out of his pocket. After a few contortions he turned round
+again, holding the handkerchief tightly. "Now, you look close,"--he
+went over to them--"an' you'll see the shil--I mean, penny," he looked
+scornfully at Robert, "has changed to an egg. It's a real egg. If
+anyone thinks it isn't a real egg----"
+
+But it _was_ a real egg. It confirmed his statement by giving a
+resounding crack and sending a shining stream partly on to the carpet
+and partly on to Aunt Evangeline's black silk knee. A storm of
+reproaches burst out.
+
+"First that horrible insect," almost wept Aunt Evangeline, "and then
+this messy stuff all over me. It's a good thing I don't live here. One
+day a year is enough.... My nerves!..."
+
+"Dear, dear!" said Aunt Jane.
+
+"Fancy taking a new-laid _egg_ for that," said Ethel severely.
+
+William was pale and indignant.
+
+"Well, I did jus' what the book said to do. Look at it. It says: 'Take
+an egg. Conceal it in the pocket.' Well, I took an egg an' I concealed
+it in the pocket. Seems to me," he said bitterly, "seems to me this
+book isn't 'Things a Boy Can Do.' It's 'Things a Boy Can't Do.'"
+
+Mr. Brown rose slowly from his chair.
+
+"You're just about right there, my son. Thank _you_," he said with
+elaborate politeness, as he took the book from William's reluctant
+hands and went over with it to a small cupboard in the wall. In this
+cupboard reposed an airgun, a bugle, a catapult, and a mouth-organ. As
+he unlocked it to put the book inside, the fleeting glimpse of his
+confiscated treasures added to the bitterness of William's soul.
+
+"On Christmas Day, too!"
+
+While he was still afire with silent indignation Aunt Lucy returned
+from church.
+
+"The vicar _didn't_ preach," she said. "They say that this morning's
+sermon was beautiful. As I say, I don't want William to reproach
+himself, but I feel that he has deprived me of a very great treat."
+
+"_Nice_ Willum!" murmured Jimmy sleepily from his corner.
+
+As William undressed that night his gaze fell upon the flower-bedecked
+motto: "A Busy Day is a Happy Day."
+
+"It's a story," he said, indignantly. "It's jus' a wicked ole story."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+RICE-MOULD
+
+
+"Rice-mould," said the little girl next door bitterly. "Rice-mould!
+Rice-mould! every single day. I _hate_ it, don't you?"
+
+She turned gloomy blue eyes upon William, who was perched perilously
+on the ivy-covered wall. William considered thoughtfully.
+
+"Dunno," he said. "I just eat it; I never thought about it."
+
+"It's _hateful_, just _hateful_. Ugh! I've had it at dinner and I'll
+have it at supper--bet you anything. I say, you are going to have a
+party to-night, aren't you?"
+
+William nodded carelessly.
+
+"Are you going to be there?"
+
+"Me!" ejaculated William in a tone of amused surprise. "I should think
+so! You don't think they could have it without _me_, do you? Huh! Not
+much!"
+
+She gazed at him enviously.
+
+"You _are_ lucky! I expect you'll have a lovely supper--not rice
+mould," bitterly.
+
+"Rather!" said William with an air of superiority.
+
+"What are you going to have to eat at your party?"
+
+"Oh--everything," said William vaguely.
+
+"Cream blanc-mange?"
+
+"Heaps of it--_buckets_ of it."
+
+The little girl next door clasped her hands.
+
+"Oh, just think of it! Your eating cream blanc-mange and me
+eating--_rice-mould_!" (It is impossible to convey in print the
+intense scorn and hatred which the little girl next door could
+compress into the two syllables.)
+
+Here an idea struck William.
+
+"What time do you have supper?"
+
+"Seven."
+
+"Well, now," magnanimously, "if you'll be in your summer-house at
+half-past, I'll bring you some cream blanc-mange. Truly I will!"
+
+The little girl's face beamed with pleasure.
+
+"Will you? Will you _really_? You won't forget?"
+
+"Not me! I'll be there. I'll slip away from our show on the quiet with
+it."
+
+"Oh, how _lovely_! I'll be thinking of it every minute. Don't forget.
+Good-bye!"
+
+She blew him a kiss and flitted daintily into the house.
+
+William blushed furiously at the blown kiss and descended from his
+precarious perch.
+
+He went to the library where his grown-up sister Ethel and his elder
+brother Robert were standing on ladders at opposite ends of the room,
+engaged in hanging up festoons of ivy and holly across the wall.
+There was to be dancing in the library after supper. William's mother
+watched them from a safe position on the floor.
+
+[Illustration: "IF YOU'LL BE IN YOUR SUMMER-HOUSE AT HALF-PAST, I'LL
+BRING YOU SOME CREAM BLANC-MANGE. TRULY I WILL!" SAID WILLIAM.]
+
+"Look here, mother," began William. "Am I or am I not coming to the
+party to-night?"
+
+William's mother sighed.
+
+"For goodness' sake, William, don't open that discussion again. For
+the tenth time to-day, you are _not_!"
+
+"But _why_ not?" he persisted. "I only want to know why not. That's
+all I want to know. It looks a bit funny, doesn't it, to give a party
+and leave out your only son, at least,"--with a glance at Robert, and a
+slight concession to accuracy--"to leave out one of your only two
+sons? It looks a bit queer, surely. That's all I'm thinking of--how it
+will look."
+
+"A bit higher your end," said Ethel.
+
+"Yes, that's better," said William's mother.
+
+"It's a _young_ folks' party," went on William, warming to his
+subject. "I heard you tell Aunt Jane it was a _young_ folks' party.
+Well, I'm young, aren't I? I'm eleven. Do you want me any younger? You
+aren't ashamed of folks seeing me, are you! I'm not deformed or
+anything."
+
+"That's right! Put the nail in there, Ethel."
+
+"Just a bit higher. That's right!"
+
+"P'raps you're afraid of what I'll _eat_," went on William bitterly.
+"Well, everyone eats, don't they? They've got to--to live. And you've
+got things for us--them--to eat to-night. You don't grudge me just a
+bit of supper, do you? You'd think it was less trouble for me to have
+my bit of supper with you all, than in a separate room. That's all I'm
+thinking of--the trouble----"
+
+William's sister turned round on her ladder and faced the room.
+
+"Can't _anyone_," she said desperately, "stop that child talking?"
+
+William's brother began to descend his ladder. "I think I can," he
+said grimly.
+
+But William had thrown dignity to the winds, and fled.
+
+He went down the hall to the kitchen, where cook hastily interposed
+herself between him and the table that was laden with cakes and
+jellies and other delicacies.
+
+"Now, Master William," she said sharply, "you clear out of here!"
+
+"I don't want any of your things, cook," said William, magnificently
+but untruthfully. "I only came to see how you were getting on. That's
+all I came for."
+
+"We're getting on very well indeed, thank you, Master William," she
+said with sarcastic politeness, "but nothing for you till to-morrow,
+when we can see how much they've left."
+
+She returned to her task of cutting sandwiches. William, from a
+respectful distance, surveyed the table with its enticing burden.
+
+"Huh!" he ejaculated bitterly, "think of them sitting and stuffing,
+and stuffing, and stuffing away at _our_ food all night! I don't
+suppose they'll leave much--not if I know the set that lives round
+here!"
+
+"Don't judge them all by yourself, Master William," said cook
+unkindly, keeping a watchful eye upon him. "Here, Emma, put that
+rice-mould away in the pantry. It's for to-morrow's lunch."
+
+Rice-mould! That reminded him.
+
+"Cook," he said ingratiatingly, "are you going to make cream
+blanc-mange?"
+
+"I am _not_, Master William," she said firmly.
+
+"Well," he said, with a short laugh, "it'll be a queer party without
+cream blanc-mange! I've never heard of a party without cream
+blanc-mange! They'll think it's a bit funny. No one ever gives a party
+round here without cream blanc-mange!"
+
+"Don't they indeed, Master William," said cook, with ironic interest.
+
+"No. You'll be making one, p'raps, later on--just a little one, won't
+you?"
+
+"And why should I?"
+
+"Well, I'd like to think they had a cream blanc-mange. I think they'd
+enjoy it. That's all I'm thinking of."
+
+"Oh, is it? Well, it's your ma that tells me what to make and pays me
+for it, not you."
+
+This was a novel idea to William.
+
+He thought deeply.
+
+"Look here!" he said at last, "if I gave you,"--he paused for effect,
+then brought out the startling offer--"sixpence, would you make a
+cream blanc-mange?"
+
+"I'd want to see your sixpence first," said cook, with a wink at Emma.
+
+William retired upstairs to his bedroom and counted out his
+money--twopence was all he possessed. He had expended the enormous sum
+of a shilling the day before on a grass snake. It had died in the
+night. He _must_ get a cream blanc-mange somehow. His reputation for
+omnipotence in the eyes of the little girl next door--a reputation
+very dear to him--depended on it. And if cook would do it for sixpence,
+he must find sixpence. By fair means or foul it must be done. He'd tried
+fair means, and there only remained foul. He went softly downstairs to
+the dining-room, where, upon the mantel-piece, reposed the missionary-box.
+He'd tell someone next day, or put it back, or something. Anyway, people
+did worse things than that in the pictures. With a knife from the table
+he extracted the contents--three-halfpence! He glared at it balefully.
+
+"Three-halfpence!" he said aloud in righteous indignation. "This
+supposed to be a Christian house, and three-halfpence is all they can
+give to the poor heathen. They can spend pounds and pounds on,"--he
+glanced round the room and saw a pyramid of pears on the
+sideboard--"tons of pears an'--an' green stuff to put on the walls,
+and they give three-halfpence to the poor heathen! Huh!"
+
+He opened the door and heard his sister's voice from the library.
+"He's probably in mischief somewhere. He'll be a perfect nuisance all
+the evening. Mother, couldn't you make him go to bed an hour earlier?"
+
+William had no doubt as to the subject of the conversation. _Make him
+go to bed early!_ He'd like to see them! He'd just like to see them!
+And he'd show them, anyway. Yes, he would show them. Exactly what he
+would show them and how he would show them, he was not as yet very
+clear. He looked round the room again. There were no eatables in it so
+far except the piled-up plate of huge pears on the sideboard.
+
+He looked at it longingly. They'd probably counted them and knew just
+how many there ought to be. Mean sort of thing they would do. And
+they'd be in counting them every other minute just to see if he'd
+taken one. Well, he was going to score off somebody, somehow. Make him
+go to bed early indeed! He stood with knit brows, deep in thought,
+then his face cleared and he smiled. He'd got it! For the next five
+minutes he munched the delicious pears, but, at the end, the piled-up
+pyramid was apparently exactly as he found it, not a pear gone,
+only--on the inner side of each pear, the side that didn't show, was a
+huge semicircular bite. William wiped his mouth with his coat sleeve.
+They were jolly good pears. And a blissful vision came to him of the
+faces of the guests as they took the pears, of the faces of his
+father and mother and Robert and Ethel. Oh, crumbs! He chuckled to
+himself as he went down to the kitchen again.
+
+"I say, cook, could you make a small one--quite a small one--for
+threepence-halfpenny?"
+
+Cook laughed.
+
+"I was only pulling your leg, Master William. I've got one made and
+locked up in the larder."
+
+"That's all right," said William. "I--wanted them to have a cream
+blanc-mange, that's all."
+
+"Oh, _they'll_ have it all right; they won't leave much for you. I
+only made _one_!"
+
+"Did you say locked in the larder?" said William carelessly. "It must
+be a bother for you to _lock_ the larder door each time you go in?"
+
+"Oh, no trouble, Master William, thank you," said cook sarcastically;
+"there's more than the cream blanc-mange there; there's pasties and
+cakes and other things. I'm thinking of the last party your ma gave!"
+
+William had the grace to blush. On that occasion William and a friend
+had spent the hour before supper in the larder, and supper had to be
+postponed while fresh provisions were beaten up from any and every
+quarter. William had passed a troubled night and spent the next day in
+bed.
+
+"Oh, _then_! That was a long time ago. I was only a kid then."
+
+"Umph!" grunted cook. Then, relenting, "Well, if there's any cream
+blanc-mange left I'll bring it up to you in bed. Now that's a promise.
+Here, Emma, put these sandwiches in the larder. Here's the key! Now
+mind you _lock it_ after you!"
+
+"Cook! Just come here for a minute."
+
+It was the voice of William's mother from the library. William's heart
+rose. With cook away from the scene of action great things might
+happen. Emma took the dish of sandwiches, unlocked the pantry door,
+and entered. There was a crash of crockery from the back kitchen. Emma
+fled out, leaving the door unlocked. After she had picked up several
+broken plates, which had unaccountably slipped from the shelves, she
+returned and locked the pantry door.
+
+William, in the darkness within, heaved a sigh of relief. He was in,
+anyway; how he was going to get out he wasn't quite sure. He stood for
+a few minutes in rapt admiration of his own cleverness. He'd scored
+off cook! Crumbs! He'd scored off cook! So far, at any rate. The first
+thing to do was to find the cream blanc-mange. He found it at last and
+sat down with it on the bread-pan to consider his next step.
+
+Suddenly he became aware of two green eyes staring at him in the
+darkness. The cat was in too! Crumbs! The cat was in too! The cat,
+recognising its inveterate enemy, set up a vindictive wail. William
+grew cold with fright. The rotten old cat was going to give the show
+away!
+
+"Here, Pussy! Good ole Pussy!" he whispered hoarsely. "Nice ole Pussy!
+Good ole Pussy!"
+
+The cat gazed at him in surprise. This form of address from William
+was unusual.
+
+"Good ole Pussy!" went on William feverishly. "Shut up, then. Here's
+some nice blanc-mange. Just have a bit. Go on, have a bit and shut
+up."
+
+He put the dish down on the larder floor before the cat, and the cat,
+after a few preliminary licks, decided that it was good. William sat
+watching for a bit. Then he came to the conclusion that it was no use
+wasting time, and began to sample the plates around him. He ate a
+whole jelly, and then took four sandwiches off each plate, and four
+cakes and pasties off each plate. He had learnt wisdom since the last
+party. Meanwhile, the cat licked away at the cream blanc-mange with
+every evidence of satisfaction. It even began to purr, and as its
+satisfaction increased so did the purr. It possessed a peculiar
+penetrating purr.
+
+"Cook!" called out Emma from the kitchen.
+
+Cook came out of the library where she was assisting with the festoon
+hanging. "What's the matter?"
+
+"There's a funny buzzing noise in the larder."
+
+"Well, go in and see what it is. It's probably a wasp, that's all."
+
+Emma approached with the key, and William, clasping the blanc-mange to
+his bosom, withdrew behind the door, slipping off his shoes in
+readiness for action.
+
+"Poor Puss!" said Emma, opening the door and meeting the cat's green,
+unabashed gaze. "Did it get shut up in the nasty dark larder, then?
+Who did it, then?"
+
+She was bending down with her back to William, stroking the cat in the
+doorway. William seized his chance. He dashed past her and up the
+stairs in stockinged feet like a flash of lightning. But Emma, leaning
+over the cat, had espied a dark flying figure out of the corner of her
+eye. She set up a scream. Out of the library came William's mother,
+William's sister, William's brother, and cook.
+
+"A burglar in the larder!" gasped Emma. "I seed 'im, I did! Out of the
+corner of my eye, like, and when I looked up 'e wasn't there no more.
+Flittin' up the 'all like a shadder, 'e was. Oh, lor! It's fairly
+turned me inside! Oh, lor!"
+
+"What rubbish!" said William's mother. "Emma, you must control
+yourself!"
+
+"I went into the larder myself 'm," said cook indignantly, "just
+before I came in to 'elp with the greenery ornaments, and it was
+hempty as--hair. It's all that silly Emma! Always 'avin' the jumps,
+she is----"
+
+"Where's William?" said William's mother with sudden suspicion.
+"William!"
+
+William came out of his bedroom and looked over the balusters.
+
+"Yes, mother," he said, with that wondering innocence of voice and
+look which he had brought to a fine art, and which proved one of his
+greatest assets in times of stress and strain.
+
+"What are you doing?"
+
+"Jus' readin' quietly in my room, mother."
+
+"Oh, for heaven's sake don't disturb him, then," said William's
+sister.
+
+"It's those silly books you read, Emma. You're always imagining
+things. If you'd read the ones I recommend, instead of the foolish
+ones you will get hold of----"
+
+William's mother was safely mounted on one of her favourite
+hobby-horses. William withdrew to his room and carefully concealed the
+cream blanc-mange beneath his bed. He then waited till he heard the
+guests arrive and exchange greetings in the hall. William, listening
+with his door open, carefully committed to memory the voice and manner
+of his sister's greeting to her friends. That would come in useful
+later on, probably. No weapon of offence against the world in general
+and his own family in particular, was to be despised. He held a
+rehearsal in his room when the guests were all safely assembled in the
+drawing-room.
+
+"Oh, _how_ are you, Mrs. Green?" he said in a high falsetto, meant to
+represent the feminine voice. "And how's the _darling_ baby? _Such_ a
+duck! I'm dying to see him again! Oh, Delia, darling! There you are!
+_So_ glad you could come! What a perfect darling of a dress, my dear.
+I know whose heart you'll break in that! Oh, Mr. Thompson!"--here
+William languished, bridled and ogled in a fashion seen nowhere on
+earth except in his imitations of his sister when engaged in
+conversation with one of the male sex. If reproduced at the right
+moment, it was guaranteed to drive her to frenzy, "I'm _so_ glad to
+see you. Yes, of course I really am! I wouldn't say it if I wasn't!"
+
+The drawing-room door opened and a chatter of conversation and a
+rustling of dresses arose from the hall. Oh, crumbs! They were going
+in to supper. Yes, the dining-room door closed; the coast was clear.
+William took out the rather battered-looking delicacy from under the
+bed and considered it thoughtfully. The dish was big and awkwardly
+shaped. He must find something that would go under his coat better
+than that. He couldn't march through the hall and out of the front
+door, bearing a cream blanc-mange, naked and unashamed. And the back
+door through the kitchen was impossible. With infinite care but little
+success as far as the shape of the blanc-mange was concerned, he
+removed it from its dish on to his soap-dish. He forgot, in the
+excitement of the moment, to remove the soap, but, after all, it was
+only a small piece. The soap-dish was decidedly too small for it, but,
+clasped to William's bosom inside his coat, it could be partly
+supported by his arm outside. He descended the stairs cautiously. He
+tip-toed lightly past the dining-room door (which was slightly ajar),
+from which came the shrill, noisy, meaningless, conversation of the
+grown-ups. He was just about to open the front door when there came
+the sound of a key turning in the lock.
+
+William's heart sank. He had forgotten the fact that his father
+generally returned from his office about this time.
+
+William's father came into the hall and glanced at his youngest
+offspring suspiciously.
+
+"Hello!" he said, "where are you going?"
+
+William cleared his throat nervously.
+
+"Me?" he questioned lightly. "Oh, I was jus'--jus' goin' a little walk
+up the road before I went to bed. That's all I was goin' to do,
+father."
+
+Flop! A large segment of the cream blanc-mange had disintegrated
+itself from the fast-melting mass, and, evading William's encircling
+arm, had fallen on to the floor at his feet. With praiseworthy
+presence of mind William promptly stepped on to it and covered it with
+his feet. William's father turned round quickly from the stand where
+he was replacing his walking stick.
+
+"What was that?"
+
+William looked round the hall absently. "What, father?"
+
+William's father now fastened his eyes upon William's person.
+
+"What have you got under your coat?"
+
+"Where?" said William with apparent surprise.
+
+Then, looking down at the damp excrescence of his coat, as if he
+noticed it for the first time, "Oh, that!" with a mirthless smile. "Do
+you mean _that_? Oh, that's jus'--jus' somethin' I'm takin' out with
+me, that's all."
+
+Again William's father grunted.
+
+"Well," he said, "if you're going for this walk up the road why on
+earth don't you go, instead of standing as if you'd lost the use of
+your feet?"
+
+William's father was hanging up his overcoat with his back to William,
+and the front door was open. William wanted no second bidding. He
+darted out of the door and down the drive, but he was just in time to
+hear the thud of a falling body, and to hear a muttered curse as the
+Head of the House entered the dining-room feet first on a long slide
+of some white, glutinous substance.
+
+"Oh, crumbs!" gasped William as he ran.
+
+The little girl next door was sitting in the summer-house, armed with
+a spoon, when William arrived. His precious burden had now saturated
+his shirt and was striking cold and damp on his chest. He drew it from
+his coat and displayed it proudly. It had certainly lost its pristine,
+white, rounded appearance. The marks of the cat's licks were very
+evident; grime from William's coat adhered to its surface; it wobbled
+limply over the soap dish, but the little girl's eyes sparkled as she
+saw it.
+
+"Oh, William, I never thought you really would! Oh, you are wonderful!
+And I _had_ it!"
+
+"What?"
+
+"Rice-mould for supper, but I didn't mind, because I thought--I hoped,
+you'd come with it. Oh, William, you _are a nice_ boy!"
+
+William glowed with pride.
+
+"William!" bellowed an irate voice from William's front door.
+
+William knew that voice. It was the voice of the male parent who has
+stood all he's jolly well going to stand from that kid, and is out for
+vengeance. They'd got to the pears! Oh, crumbs! They'd got to the
+pears! And even the thought of Nemesis to come could not dull for
+William the bliss of that vision.
+
+[Illustration: WILLIAM LEANT BACK IN A SUPERIOR, BENEVOLENT MANNER AND
+WATCHED THE SMILE FREEZE UPON HER FACE AND HER LOOK OF ECSTASY CHANGE
+TO ONE OF FURY.]
+
+"Oh, William," said the little girl next door sadly, "they're calling
+you. Will you have to go?"
+
+"Not me," said William earnestly. "I'm not going--not till they fetch
+me. Here! you begin. I don't want any. I've had lots of things. You
+eat it all."
+
+Her face radiant with anticipation, the little girl took up her spoon.
+
+William leant back in a superior, benevolent manner and watched the
+smile freeze upon her face and her look of ecstasy change to one of
+fury. With a horrible suspicion at his heart he seized the spoon she
+had dropped and took a mouthful himself.
+
+_He had brought the rice-mould by mistake!_
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+WILLIAM'S BURGLAR
+
+
+When William first saw him he was leaning against the wall of the
+White Lion, gazing at the passers-by with a moody smile upon his
+villainous-looking countenance.
+
+It was evident to any careful observer that he had not confined his
+attentions to the exterior of the White Lion.
+
+William, at whose heels trotted his beloved mongrel (rightly named
+Jumble), was passing him with a casual glance, when something
+attracted his attention. He stopped and looked back, then, turning
+round, stood in front of the tall, untidy figure, gazing up at him
+with frank and unabashed curiosity.
+
+"Who cut 'em off?" he said at last in an awed whisper.
+
+The figure raised his hands and stroked the long hair down the side of
+his face.
+
+"Now yer arskin'," he said with a grin.
+
+"Well, who _did_?" persisted William.
+
+"That 'ud be tellin'," answered his new friend, moving unsteadily
+from one foot to the other. "See?"
+
+"You got 'em cut off in the war," said William firmly.
+
+"I didn't. I bin in the wor orl right. Stroike me pink, I bin in the
+wor and _that's_ the truth. But I didn't get 'em cut orf in the wor.
+Well, I'll stop kiddin' yer. I'll tell yer strite. I never 'ad none.
+_Nar!_"
+
+William stood on tiptoe to peer under the untidy hair at the small
+apertures that in his strange new friend took the place of ears.
+Admiration shone in William's eyes.
+
+"Was you _born_ without 'em?" he said enviously.
+
+His friend nodded.
+
+"Nar don't yer go torkin' about it," he went on modestly, though
+seeming to bask in the sun of William's evident awe and respect. "I
+don't want all folks knowin' 'bout it. See? It kinder _marks_ a man,
+this 'ere sort of thing. See? Makes 'im too easy to _track_, loike.
+That's why I grow me hair long. See? 'Ere, 'ave a drink?"
+
+He put his head inside the window of the White Lion and roared out
+"Bottle o' lemonide fer the young gent."
+
+William followed him to a small table in the little sunny porch, and
+his heart swelled with pride as he sat and quaffed his beverage with a
+manly air. His friend, who said his name was Mr. Blank, showed a most
+flattering interest in him. He elicited from him the whereabouts of
+his house and the number of his family, a description of the door and
+window fastenings, of the dining-room silver and his mother's
+jewellery.
+
+William, his eyes fixed with a fascinated stare upon Mr. Blank's ears,
+gave the required information readily, glad to be able in any way to
+interest this intriguing and mysterious being.
+
+"Tell me about the war," said William at last.
+
+"It were orl right while it larsted," said Mr. Blank with a sigh. "It
+were orl right, but I s'pose, like mos' things in this 'ere world, it
+couldn't larst fer ever. See?"
+
+William set down the empty glass of lemonade and leant across the
+table, almost dizzy with the romance of the moment. Had Douglas, had
+Henry, had Ginger, had any of those boys who sat next him at school
+and joined in the feeble relaxations provided by the authorities out
+of school, ever done _this_--ever sat at a real table outside a real
+public-house drinking lemonade and talking to a man with no ears who'd
+fought in the war and who looked as if he might have done _anything_?
+
+Jumble, meanwhile, sat and snapped at flies, frankly bored.
+
+"Did you"--said William in a sibilant whisper--"did you ever _kill_
+anyone?"
+
+Mr. Blank laughed a laugh that made William's blood curdle.
+
+"Me kill anyone? Me kill anyone? _'Ondreds!_"
+
+William breathed a sigh of satisfaction. Here was romance and
+adventure incarnate.
+
+"What do you do now the war's over?"
+
+Mr. Blank closed one eye.
+
+"That 'ud be tellin', wudn't it?"
+
+[Illustration: "DID YOU"--SAID WILLIAM IN A SIBILANT WHISPER--"DID YOU
+EVER _KILL_ ANYONE?"]
+
+"I'll keep it awfully secret," pleaded William. "I'll never tell
+anyone."
+
+Mr. Blank shook his head.
+
+"What yer want ter know fer, anyway?" he said.
+
+William answered eagerly, his eyes alight.
+
+"'Cause I'd like to do jus' the same when I grow up."
+
+Mr. Blank flung back his head and emitted guffaw after guffaw of
+unaffected mirth.
+
+"Oh 'ell," he said, wiping his eyes. "Oh, stroike me pink! That's
+good, that is. You wait, young gent, you wait till you've growed up
+and see what yer pa says to it. Oh 'ell!"
+
+He rose and pulled his cap down over his eyes.
+
+"Well, I'll say good day to yer, young gent."
+
+William looked at him wistfully.
+
+"I'd like to see you again, Mr. Blank, I would, honest. Will you be
+here this afternoon?"
+
+"Wot d'yer want to see me agine fer?" said Mr. Blank suspiciously.
+
+"I _like_ you," said William fervently. "I like the way you talk, and
+I like the things you say, and I want to know about what you do!"
+
+Mr. Blank was obviously flattered.
+
+"I may be round 'ere agine this arter, though I mike no promise. See?
+I've gotter be careful, I 'ave. I've gotter be careful 'oo sees me an'
+'oo 'ears me, and where I go. That's the worst of 'aving no ears.
+See?"
+
+William did not see, but he was thrilled to the soul by the mystery.
+
+"An' you don't tell no one you seen me nor nothing abart me," went on
+Mr. Blank.
+
+Pulling his cap still farther over his head, Mr. Blank set off
+unsteadily down the road, leaving William to pay for his lemonade
+with his last penny.
+
+He walked home, his heart set firmly on a lawless career of crime.
+Opposition he expected from his father and mother and Robert and
+Ethel, but his determination was fixed. He wondered if it would be
+very painful to have his ears cut off.
+
+He entered the dining-room with an air of intense mystery, pulling his
+cap over his eyes, and looking round in a threatening manner.
+
+"William, what _do_ you mean by coming into the house in your cap?
+Take it off at once."
+
+William sighed. He wondered if Mr. Blank had a mother.
+
+When he returned he sat down and began quietly to remodel his life. He
+would not be an explorer, after all, nor an engine-driver nor
+chimney-sweep. He would be a man of mystery, a murderer, fighter,
+forger. He fingered his ears tentatively. They seemed fixed on jolly
+fast. He glanced with utter contempt at his father who had just come
+in. His father's life of blameless respectability seemed to him at
+that minute utterly despicable.
+
+"The Wilkinsons over at Todfoot have had their house broken into now,"
+Mrs. Brown was saying. "_All_ her jewellery gone. They think it's a
+gang. It's just the villages round here. There seems to be one every
+day!"
+
+William expressed his surprise.
+
+"Oh, 'ell!" he ejaculated, with a slightly self-conscious air.
+
+Mr. Brown turned round and looked at his son.
+
+"May I ask," he said politely, "where you picked up that expression?"
+
+"I got it off one of my fren's," said William with quiet pride.
+
+"Then I'd take it as a personal favour," went on Mr. Brown, "if you'd
+kindly refrain from airing your friends' vocabularies in this house."
+
+"He means you're never to say it again, William," translated Mrs.
+Brown sternly. "_Never._"
+
+"All right," said William. "I won't. See? I da--jolly well won't.
+Strike me pink. See?"
+
+He departed with an air of scowling mystery and dignity combined,
+leaving his parents speechless with amazement.
+
+That afternoon he returned to the White Lion. Mr. Blank was standing
+unobtrusively in the shadow of the wall.
+
+"'Ello, young gent," he greeted William, "nice dorg you've got."
+
+William looked proudly down at Jumble.
+
+"You won't find," he said proudly and with some truth, "you won't find
+another dog like this--not for _miles_!"
+
+"Will 'e be much good as a watch dog, now?" asked Mr. Blank
+carelessly.
+
+"Good?" said William, almost indignant at the question. "There isn't
+any sort of dog he isn't good at!"
+
+"Umph," said Mr. Blank, looking at him thoughtfully.
+
+"Tell me about things you've _done_," said William earnestly.
+
+"Yus, I will, too," said Mr. Blank. "But jus' you tell me first 'oo
+lives at all these 'ere nice 'ouses an' all about 'em. See?"
+
+[Illustration: WILLIAM DEPARTED WITH AN AIR OF SCOWLING MYSTERY,
+LEAVING HIS PARENTS SPEECHLESS WITH AMAZEMENT]
+
+William readily complied, and the strange couple gradually wended
+their way along the road towards William's house. William stopped at
+the gate and considered deeply. He was torn between instincts of
+hospitality and a dim suspicion that his family would not afford to
+Mr. Blank that courtesy which is a guest's due. He looked at Mr.
+Blank's old green-black cap, long, untidy hair, dirty, lined, sly old
+face, muddy clothes and gaping boots, and decided quite finally that
+his mother would not allow him in her drawing-room.
+
+"Will you," he said tentatively, "will you come roun' an' see our back
+garden? If we go behind these ole bushes and keep close along the
+wall, no one'll see us."
+
+To William's relief Mr. Blank did not seem to resent the suggestion of
+secrecy. They crept along the wall in silence except for Jumble, who
+loudly worried Mr. Blank's trailing boot-strings as he walked. They
+reached a part of the back garden that was not visible from the house
+and sat down together under a shady tree.
+
+"P'raps," began Mr. Blank politely, "you could bring a bit o' tea out
+to me on the quiet like."
+
+"I'll ask mother----" began William.
+
+"Oh, no," said Mr. Blank modestly. "I don't want ter give no one no
+trouble. Just a slice o' bread, if you can find it, without troublin'
+no one. See?"
+
+William had a brilliant idea.
+
+"Let's go 'cross to that window an' get in," he said eagerly. "That's
+the lib'ry and no one uses it 'cept father, and he's not in till
+later."
+
+Mr. Blank insisted on tying Jumble up, then he swung himself
+dexterously through the window. William gave a gasp of admiration.
+
+"You did that fine," he said.
+
+Again Mr. Blank closed one eye.
+
+"Not the first time I've got in at a winder, young gent, nor the
+larst, I bet. Not by a long way. See?"
+
+William followed more slowly. His eye gleamed with pride. This hero of
+romance and adventure was now his guest, under his roof.
+
+"Make yourself quite at home, Mr. Blank," he said with an air of
+intense politeness.
+
+Mr. Blank did. He emptied Mr. Brown's cigar-box into his pocket. He
+drank three glasses of Mr. Brown's whiskey and soda. While William's
+back was turned he filled his pockets with the silver ornaments from
+the mantel-piece. He began to inspect the drawers in Mr. Brown's desk.
+Then:
+
+[Illustration: MR. BLANK MADE HIMSELF QUITE AT HOME]
+
+"William! Come to tea!"
+
+"You stay here," whispered William. "I'll bring you some."
+
+But luck was against him. It was a visitors' tea in the drawing-room,
+and Mrs. de Vere Carter, a neighbour, there, in all her glory. She
+rose from her seat with an ecstatic murmur.
+
+"Willie! _Dear_ child! _Sweet_ little soul!"
+
+With one arm she crushed the infuriated William against her belt, with
+the other she caressed his hair. Then William in moody silence sat
+down in a corner and began to eat bread and butter. Every time he
+prepared to slip a piece into his pocket, he found his mother's or
+Mrs. de Vere Carter's eye fixed upon him and hastily began to eat it
+himself. He sat, miserable and hot, seeing only the heroic figure
+starving in the next room, and planned a raid on the larder as soon as
+he could reasonably depart. Every now and then he scowled across at
+Mrs. de Vere Carter and made a movement with his hands as though
+pulling a cap over his eyes. He invested even his eating with an air
+of dark mystery.
+
+Then Robert, his elder brother, came in, followed by a thin, pale man
+with eye-glasses and long hair.
+
+"This is Mr. Lewes, mother," said Robert with an air of pride and
+triumph. "He's editor of _Fiddle Strings_."
+
+There was an immediate stir and sensation. Robert had often talked of
+his famous friend. In fact Robert's family was weary of the sound of
+his name, but this was the first time Robert had induced him to leave
+the haunts of his genius to visit the Brown household.
+
+Mr. Lewes bowed with a set, stern, self-conscious expression, as
+though to convey to all that his celebrity was more of a weight than a
+pleasure to him. Mrs. de Vere Carter bridled and fluttered, for
+_Fiddle Strings_ had a society column and a page of scrappy "News of
+the Town," and Mrs. de Vere Carter's greatest ambition was to see her
+name in print.
+
+Mr. Lewes sat back in his chair, took his tea-cup as though it were a
+fresh addition to his responsibilities, and began to talk. He talked
+apparently without even breathing. He began on the weather, drifted on
+to art and music, and was just beginning a monologue on The Novel,
+when William rose and crept from the room like a guilty spirit. He
+found Mr. Blank under the library table, having heard a noise in the
+kitchen and fearing a visitor. A cigar and a silver snuffer had
+fallen from his pocket to the floor. He hastily replaced them. William
+went up and took another look at the wonderful ears and heaved a sigh
+of relief. While parted from his strange friend he had had a horrible
+suspicion that the whole thing was a dream.
+
+"I'll go to the larder and get you sumthin'," he said. "You jus' stay
+here."
+
+"I think, young gent," said Mr. Blank, "I think I'll just go an' look
+round upstairs on the quiet like, an' you needn't mention it to no
+one. See?"
+
+Again he performed the fascinating wink.
+
+They crept on tiptoe into the hall, but--the drawing-room door was
+ajar.
+
+"William!"
+
+William's heart stood still. He could hear his mother coming across
+the room, then--she stood in the doorway. Her face filled with horror
+as her eye fell upon Mr. Blank.
+
+"_William!_" she said.
+
+William's feelings were beyond description. Desperately he sought for
+an explanation for his friend's presence. With what pride and
+_sang-froid_ had Robert announced his uninvited guest! William
+determined to try it, at any rate. He advanced boldly into the
+drawing-room.
+
+"This is Mr. Blank, mother," he announced jauntily. "He hasn't got no
+ears."
+
+Mr. Blank stood in the background, awaiting developments. Flight was
+now impossible.
+
+The announcement fell flat. There was nothing but horror upon the five
+silent faces that confronted William. He made a last desperate effort.
+
+"He's bin in the war," he pleaded. "He's--killed folks."
+
+Then the unexpected happened.
+
+Mrs. de Vere Carter rose with a smile of welcome. In her mind's eye
+she saw the touching story already in print--the tattered hero--the
+gracious lady--the age of Democracy. The stage was laid and that dark,
+pale young man had only to watch and listen.
+
+"Ah, one of our dear heroes! My poor, brave man! A cup of tea, my
+dear," turning to William's thunderstruck mother. "And he may sit
+down, may he not?" She kept her face well turned towards the
+sardonic-looking Mr. Lewes. He must not miss a word or gesture. "How
+_proud_ we are to do anything for our dear heroes! Wounded, perhaps?
+Ah, poor man!" She floated across to him with a cup of tea and plied
+him with bread and butter and cake. William sat down meekly on a
+chair, looking rather pale. Mr. Blank, whose philosophy was to take
+the goods the gods gave and not look to the future, began to make a
+hearty meal. "Are you looking for work, my poor man?" asked Mrs. de
+Vere Carter, leaning forward in her chair.
+
+Her poor man replied with simple, manly directness that he "was dam'd
+if he was. See?" Mr. Lewes began to discuss The Drama with Robert.
+Mrs. de Vere Carter raised her voice.
+
+"_How_ you must have suffered! Yes, there is suffering ingrained in
+your face. A piece of shrapnel? Ten inches square? Right in at one hip
+and out at the other? Oh, my poor man! _How_ I feel for you. How all
+class distinctions vanish at such a time. How----"
+
+[Illustration: "ARE YOU LOOKING FOR WORK, MY POOR MAN?" ASKED MRS. DE
+VERE CARTER.]
+
+She stopped while Mr. Blank drank his tea. In fact, all conversation
+ceased while Mr. Blank drank his tea, just as conversation on a
+station ceases while a train passes through.
+
+Mrs. Brown looked helplessly around her. When Mr. Blank had eaten a
+plate of sandwiches, a plate of bread and butter, and half a cake, he
+rose slowly, keeping one hand over the pocket in which reposed the
+silver ornaments.
+
+"Well 'm," he said, touching his cap. "Thank you kindly. I've 'ad a
+fine tea. I 'ave. A dam' fine tea. An' I'll not forget yer kindness to
+a pore ole soldier." Here he winked brazenly at William. "An' good day
+ter you orl."
+
+Mrs. de Vere Carter floated out to the front door with him, and
+William followed as in a dream.
+
+Mrs. Brown found her voice.
+
+"We'd better have the chair disinfected," she murmured to Ethel.
+
+Then Mrs. de Vere Carter returned smiling to herself and eyeing the
+young editor surmisingly.
+
+"I witnessed a pretty scene the other day in a suburban
+drawing-room...." It might begin like that.
+
+William followed the amazing figure round the house again to the
+library window. Here it turned to him with a friendly grin.
+
+"I'm just goin' to 'ave that look round upstairs now. See?" he said.
+"An' once more, yer don't need ter say nothin' to no one. See?"
+
+With the familiar, beloved gesture he drew his old cap down over his
+eyes, and was gone.
+
+William wandered upstairs a few minutes later to find his visitor
+standing at the landing window, his pockets bulging.
+
+"I'm goin' to try this 'ere window, young gent," he said in a quick,
+business-like voice. "I see yer pa coming in at the front gate. Give
+me a shove. Quick, nar."
+
+Mr. Brown entered the drawing-room.
+
+"Mulroyd's had his house burgled now," he said. "Every bit of his
+wife's jewellery gone. They've got some clues, though. It's a gang all
+right, and one of them is a chap without ears. Grows his hair long to
+hide it. But it's a clue. The police are hunting for him."
+
+He looked in amazement at the horror-stricken faces before him. Mrs.
+Brown sat down weakly.
+
+"Ethel, my smelling salts! They're on the mantel-piece."
+
+Robert grew pale.
+
+"Good Lord--my silver cricket cup," he gasped, racing upstairs.
+
+The landing window had been too small, and Mr. Blank too big, though
+William did his best.
+
+There came to the astounded listeners the sound of a fierce scuffle,
+then Robert descended, his hair rumpled and his tie awry, holding
+William by the arm. William looked pale and apprehensive. "He was
+there," panted Robert, "just getting out of the window. He chucked the
+things out of his pockets and got away. I couldn't stop him. And--and
+William was there----"
+
+William's face assumed the expression of one who is prepared for the
+worst.
+
+"The plucky little chap! Struggling with him! Trying to pull him back
+from the window! All by himself!"
+
+"I _wasn't_," cried William excitedly. "I was _helping_ him. He's _my
+friend_. I----"
+
+But they heard not a word. They crowded round him, praised him, shook
+hands with him, asked if he was hurt. Mrs. de Vere Carter kept up one
+perpetual scream of delight and congratulation.
+
+"The _dear_ boy! The little _pet_! How _brave_! What _courage_! What
+an _example_ to us all! And the horrid, wretched man! Posing as a
+_hero_. Wangling himself into the sweet child's confidence. Are you
+hurt, my precious? Did the nasty man hurt you? You _darling_ boy!"
+
+When the babel had somewhat subsided, Mr. Brown came forward and laid
+a hand on William's shoulder.
+
+"I'm very pleased with you, my boy," he said. "You can buy anything
+you like to-morrow up to five shillings."
+
+William's bewildered countenance cleared.
+
+"Thank you, father," he said meekly.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+THE KNIGHT AT ARMS
+
+
+"A knight," said Miss Drew, who was struggling to inspire her class
+with enthusiasm for Tennyson's "Idylls of the King," "a knight was a
+person who spent his time going round succouring the oppressed."
+
+"Suckin' wot?" said William, bewildered.
+
+"Succour means to help. He spent his time helping anyone who was in
+trouble."
+
+"How much did he get for it?" asked William.
+
+"Nothing, of course," said Miss Drew, appalled by the base
+commercialism of the twentieth century. "He helped the poor because he
+_loved_ them, William. He had a lot of adventures and fighting and he
+helped beautiful, persecuted damsels."
+
+William's respect for the knight rose.
+
+"Of course," said Miss Drew hastily, "they needn't necessarily be
+beautiful, but, in most of the stories we have, they were beautiful."
+
+Followed some stories of fighting and adventure and the rescuing of
+beautiful damsels. The idea of the thing began to take hold of
+William's imagination.
+
+"I say," he said to his chum Ginger after school, "that knight thing
+sounds all right. Suckin'--I mean helpin' people an' fightin' an' all
+that. I wun't mind doin' it an' you could be my squire."
+
+"Yes," said Ginger slowly, "I'd thought of doin' it, but I'd thought
+of _you_ bein' the squire."
+
+"Well," said William after a pause, "let's be squires in turn. You
+first," he added hastily.
+
+"Wot'll you give me if I'm first?" said Ginger, displaying again the
+base commercialism of his age.
+
+William considered.
+
+"I'll give you first drink out of a bottle of ginger-ale wot I'm goin'
+to get with my next money. It'll be three weeks off 'cause they're
+takin' the next two weeks to pay for an ole window wot my ball slipped
+into by mistake."
+
+He spoke with the bitterness that always characterised his statements
+of the injustice of the grown-up world.
+
+"All right," said Ginger.
+
+"I won't forget about the drink of ginger-ale."
+
+"No, you won't," said Ginger simply. "I'll remind you all right. Well,
+let's set off."
+
+"'Course," said William, "it would be _nicer_ with armour an' horses
+an' trumpets, but I 'spect folks ud think anyone a bit soft wot went
+about in the streets in armour now, 'cause these times is different.
+She said so. Anyway she said we could still be knights an' help
+people, di'n't she? Anyway, I'll get my bugle. That'll be
+_something_."
+
+William's bugle had just returned to public life after one of its
+periodic terms of retirement into his father's keeping.
+
+William took his bugle proudly in one hand and his pistol (the
+glorious result of a dip in the bran tub at a school party) in the
+other, and, sternly denying themselves the pleasures of afternoon
+school, off the two set upon the road of romance and adventure.
+
+"I'll carry the bugle," said Ginger, "'cause I'm squire."
+
+William was loth to give up his treasure.
+
+"Well, I'll carry it now," he said, "but when I begin' fightin' folks,
+I'll give it you to hold."
+
+They walked along for about a mile without meeting anyone. William
+began to be aware of a sinking feeling in the region of his waist.
+
+"I wonder wot they _eat_," he said at last. "I'm gettin' so's I
+wouldn't mind sumthin' to eat."
+
+"We di'n't ought to have set off before dinner," said the squire with
+after-the-event wisdom. "We ought to have waited till _after_ dinner."
+
+"You ought to have _brought_ sumthin'," said William severely. "You're
+the squire. You're not much of a squire not to have brought sumthin'
+for me to eat."
+
+"An' me," put in Ginger. "If I'd brought any I'd have brought it for
+me more'n for you."
+
+William fingered his minute pistol.
+
+"If we meet any wild animals ..." he said darkly.
+
+A cow gazed at them mournfully over a hedge.
+
+"You might go an' milk that," suggested William. "Milk 'ud be better'n
+nothing."
+
+"_You_ go 'an milk it."
+
+"No, I'm not squire. I bet squires did the milkin'. Knights wu'n't of
+done the milkin'."
+
+"I'll remember," said Ginger bitterly, "when you're squire, all the
+things wot you said a squire ought to do when I was squire."
+
+They entered the field and gazed at the cow from a respectful
+distance. She turned her eyes upon them sadly.
+
+"Go on!" said the knight to his reluctant squire.
+
+"I'm not good at cows," objected that gentleman.
+
+"Well, I will, then!" said William with reckless bravado, and advanced
+boldly upon the animal. The animal very slightly lowered its horns
+(perhaps in sign of greeting) and emitted a sonorous mo-o-o-o-o. Like
+lightning the gallant pair made for the road.
+
+"Anyway," said William gloomily, "we'd got nothin' to put it in, so
+we'd only of got tossed for nothin', p'raps, if we'd gone on."
+
+They walked on down the road till they came to a pair of iron gates
+and a drive that led up to a big house. William's spirits rose. His
+hunger was forgotten.
+
+"Come on!" he said. "We might find someone to rescue here. It looks
+like a place where there might be someone to rescue."
+
+There was no one in the garden to question the right of entry of two
+small boys armed with a bugle and a toy pistol. Unchallenged they
+went up to the house. While the knight was wondering whether to blow
+his bugle at the front door or by the open window, they caught sight
+suddenly of a vision inside the window. It was a girl as fair and slim
+and beautiful as any wandering knight could desire. And she was
+speaking fast and passionately.
+
+William, ready for all contingencies, marshalled his forces.
+
+"Follow me!" he whispered and crept on all fours nearer the window.
+They could see a man now, an elderly man with white hair and a white
+beard.
+
+"And how long will you keep me in this vile prison?" she was saying in
+a voice that trembled with anger, "base wretch that you are!"
+
+"Crumbs!" ejaculated William.
+
+"Ha! Ha!" sneered the man. "I have you in my power. I will keep you
+here a prisoner till you sign the paper which will make me master of
+all your wealth, and beware, girl, if you do not sign, you may answer
+for it with your life!"
+
+"Golly!" murmured William.
+
+Then he crawled away into the bushes, followed by his attendant
+squire.
+
+"Well," said William, his face purple with excitement, "we've found
+someone to rescue all _right_. He's a base wretch, wot she said, all
+_right_."
+
+"Will you kill him?" said the awed squire.
+
+"How big was he? Could you see?" said William the discreet.
+
+"He was ever so big. Great big face he had, too, with a beard."
+
+"Then I won't try killin' him--not straight off. I'll think of some
+plan--somethin' cunnin'."
+
+[Illustration: WILLIAM AND GINGER FOLLOWED ON ALL FOURS WITH ELABORATE
+CAUTION.]
+
+He sat with his chin on his hands, gazing into space, till they were
+surprised by the opening of the front door and the appearance of a
+tall, thick-set, elderly man. William quivered with excitement. The
+man went along a path through the bushes. William and Ginger followed
+on all fours with elaborate caution. At every almost inaudible sound
+from Ginger, William turned his red, frowning face on to him with a
+resounding "Sh!" The path ended at a small shed with a locked door.
+The man opened the door--the key stood in the lock--and entered.
+
+Promptly William, with a snarl expressive of cunning and triumph,
+hurled himself at the door and turned the key in the lock.
+
+"Here!" came an angry shout from inside. "Who's that? What the
+devil----"
+
+"You low ole caitiff!" said William through the keyhole.
+
+"Who the deuce----?" exploded the voice.
+
+"You base wretch, like wot she said you was," bawled William, his
+mouth still applied closely to the keyhole.
+
+"Let me out at once, or I'll--"
+
+"You mean ole oppressor!"
+
+"Who the deuce are you? What's this tomfool trick? Let me _out_! Do
+you hear?"
+
+A resounding kick shook the door.
+
+"I've gotter pistol," said William sternly. "I'll shoot you dead if
+you kick the door down, you mangy ole beast!"
+
+The sound of kicking ceased and a scrambling and scraping, accompanied
+by oaths, proceeded from the interior.
+
+"I'll stay on guard," said William with the tense expression of the
+soldier at his post, "an' you go an' set her free. Go an' blow the
+bugle at the front door, then they'll know something's happened," he
+added simply.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Miss Priscilla Greene was pouring out tea in the drawing-room. Two
+young men and a maiden were the recipients of her hospitality.
+
+"Dad will be here in a minute," she said. "He's just gone to the
+dark-room to see to some photos he'd left in toning or fixing, or
+something. We'll get on with the rehearsal as soon as he comes. We'd
+just rehearsed the scene he and I have together, so we're ready for
+the ones where we all come in."
+
+"How did it go off?"
+
+"Oh, quite well. We knew our parts, anyway."
+
+"I think the village will enjoy it."
+
+"Anyway, it's never very critical, is it? And it loves a melodrama."
+
+"Yes. I wonder if father knows you're here. He said he'd come straight
+back. Perhaps I'd better go and find him."
+
+"Oh, let me go, Miss Greene," said one of the youths ardently.
+
+"Well, I don't know whether you'd find the place. It's a shed in the
+garden that he uses. We use half as a dark-room and half as a
+coal-cellar."
+
+"I'll go--"
+
+He stopped. A nightmare sound, as discordant as it was ear-splitting,
+filled the room. Miss Greene sank back into her chair, suddenly white.
+One of the young men let a cup of tea fall neatly from his fingers on
+to the floor and there crash into fragments. The young lady visitor
+emitted a scream that would have done credit to a factory siren. Then
+at the open French window appeared a small boy holding a bugle,
+purple-faced with the effort of his performance.
+
+One of the young men was the first to recover speech. He stepped away
+from the broken crockery on the floor as if to disclaim all
+responsibility for it and said sternly:
+
+"Did you make that horrible noise?"
+
+Miss Greene began to laugh hysterically.
+
+"Do have some tea now you've come," she said to Ginger.
+
+Ginger remembered the pangs of hunger, of which excitement had
+momentarily rendered him oblivious, and, deciding that there was no
+time like the present, took a cake from the stand and began to consume
+it in silence.
+
+"You'd better be careful," said the young lady to her hostess; "he
+might have escaped from the asylum. He looks mad. He had a very mad
+look, I thought, when he was standing at the window."
+
+"He's evidently hungry, anyway. I can't think why father doesn't
+come."
+
+Here Ginger, fortified by a walnut bun, remembered his mission.
+
+"It's all right now," he said. "You can go home. He's shut up. Me an'
+William shut him up."
+
+"You see!" said the young lady with a meaning glance around. "I _said_
+he was from the asylum. He looked mad. We'd better humour him and ring
+up the asylum. Have another cake, darling boy," she said in a tone of
+honeyed sweetness.
+
+Nothing loth, Ginger selected an ornate pyramid of icing.
+
+At this point there came a bellowing and crashing and tramping outside
+and Miss Priscilla's father, roaring fury and threats of vengeance,
+hurled himself into the room. Miss Priscilla's father had made his
+escape by a small window at the other end of the shed. To do this he
+had had to climb over the coals in the dark. His face and hands and
+clothes and once-white beard were covered with coal. His eyes gleamed
+whitely.
+
+[Illustration: "HE'S GOT OUT," WILLIAM SAID REPROACHFULLY. "WHY DI'N'T
+SOMEONE STOP HIM GETTIN' OUT?"]
+
+"An abominable attack ... utterly unprovoked ... dastardly ruffians!"
+
+Here he stopped to splutter because his mouth was full of coal dust.
+While he was spluttering, William, who had just discovered that his
+bird had flown, appeared at the window.
+
+"He's got out," he said reproachfully. "Look at him. He's got out. An'
+all our trouble for nothing. Why di'n't someone _stop_ him gettin'
+out?"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+William and Ginger sat on the railing that separated their houses.
+
+"It's not really much _fun_ bein' a knight," said William slowly.
+
+"No," agreed Ginger. "You never know when folks _is_ oppressed. An'
+anyway, wot's one afternoon away from school to make such a fuss
+about?"
+
+"Seems to me from wot father said," went on William gloomily, "you'll
+have to wait a jolly long time for that drink of ginger-ale."
+
+An expression of dejection came over Ginger's face.
+
+"An' you wasn't even ever squire," he said. Then he brightened.
+
+"They were jolly good cakes, wasn't they?" he said.
+
+William's lips curved into a smile of blissful reminiscence.
+
+"_Jolly_ good!" he agreed.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+WILLIAM'S HOBBY
+
+
+Uncle George was William's godfather, and he was intensely interested
+in William's upbringing. It was an interest with which William would
+gladly have dispensed. Uncle George's annual visit was to William a
+purgatory only to be endured by a resolutely philosophic attitude of
+mind and the knowledge that sooner or later it must come to an end.
+Uncle George had an ideal of what a boy should be, and it was a
+continual grief to him that William fell so short of this ideal. But
+he never relinquished his efforts to make William conform to it.
+
+His ideal was a gentle boy of exquisite courtesy and of intellectual
+pursuits. Such a boy he could have loved. It was hard that fate had
+endowed him with a godson like William. William was neither quiet nor
+gentle, nor courteous nor intellectual--but William was intensely
+human.
+
+The length of Uncle George's visit this year was beginning to reach
+the limits of William's patience. He was beginning to feel that sooner
+or later something must happen. For five weeks now he had
+(reluctantly) accompanied Uncle George upon his morning walk, he had
+(generally unsuccessfully) tried to maintain that state of absolute
+quiet that Uncle George's afternoon rest required, he had in the
+evening listened wearily to Uncle George's stories of his youth. His
+usual feeling of mild contempt for Uncle George was beginning to give
+way to one which was much stronger.
+
+"Now, William," said Uncle George at breakfast, "I'm afraid it's going
+to rain to-day, so we'll do a little work together this morning, shall
+we? Nothing like work, is there? Your Arithmetic's a bit shaky, isn't
+it? We'll rub that up. We _love_ our work, don't we?"
+
+William eyed him coldly.
+
+"I don't think I'd better get muddlin' up my school work," he said. "I
+shouldn't like to be more on than the other boys next term. It
+wouldn't be fair to them."
+
+Uncle George rubbed his hands.
+
+"That feeling does you credit, my boy," he said, "but if we go over
+some of the old work, no harm can be done. History, now. There's
+nothing like History, is there?"
+
+William agreed quite heartily that there wasn't.
+
+"We'll do some History, then," said Uncle George briskly. "The lives
+of the great. Most inspiring. Better than those terrible things you
+used to waste your time on, eh?"
+
+The "terrible things" had included a trumpet, a beloved motor hooter,
+and an ingenious instrument very dear to William's soul that
+reproduced most realistically the sound of two cats fighting. These,
+at Uncle George's request, had been confiscated by William's father.
+Uncle George had not considered them educational. They also disturbed
+his afternoon's rest.
+
+Uncle George settled himself and William down for a nice quiet morning
+in the library. William, looking round for escape, found none. The
+outside world was wholly uninviting. The rain came down in torrents.
+Moreover, the five preceding weeks had broken William's spirits. He
+realised the impossibility of evading Uncle George. His own family
+were not sympathetic. They suffered from him considerably during the
+rest of the year and were not sorry to see him absorbed completely by
+Uncle George's conscientious zeal.
+
+So Uncle George seated himself slowly and ponderously in an arm-chair
+by the fire.
+
+"When I was a boy, William," he began, leaning back and joining the
+tips of his fingers together, "I loved my studies. I'm sure you love
+your studies, don't you? Which do you love most?"
+
+"Me?" said William. "I like shootin' and playin' Red Injuns."
+
+"Yes, yes," said Uncle George impatiently, "but those aren't
+_studies_, William. You must aim at being _gentle_."
+
+"It's not much good bein' _gentle_ when you're playin' Red Injuns,"
+said William stoutly. "A _gentle_ Red Injun wun't get much done."
+
+"Ah, but why play Red Indians?" said Uncle George. "A nasty rough
+game. No, we'll talk about History. You must mould your character upon
+that of the great heroes, William. You must be a Clive, a Napoleon, a
+Wolfe."
+
+"I've often been a wolf," said William. "That game's nearly as good as
+Red Injuns. An' Bears is a good game too. We might have Bears here,"
+he went on brightening. "Jus' you an' me. Would you sooner be bear or
+hunter? I'd sooner be hunter," he hinted gently.
+
+"You misunderstand," said Uncle George. "I mean Wolfe the man, Wolfe
+the hero."
+
+William, who had little patience with heroes who came within the
+school curriculum, relapsed into gloom.
+
+"What lessons do we learn from such names, my boy?" went on Uncle
+George.
+
+William was on the floor behind Uncle George's chair endeavouring to
+turn a somersault in a very restricted space.
+
+"History lessons an' dates an' things," he said shortly. "An' the
+things they 'spect you to remember----!" he added with disgust.
+
+"No, no," said Uncle George, but the fire was hot and his chair was
+comfortable and his educational zeal was dying away, "to endure the
+buffets of fate with equanimity, to smile at misfortune, to endure
+whatever comes, and so on----"
+
+He stopped suddenly.
+
+William had managed the somersault, but it had somehow brought his
+feet into collision with Uncle George's neck. Uncle George sleepily
+shifted his position.
+
+[Illustration: WILLIAM WAS ON THE FLOOR BEHIND UNCLE GEORGE'S CHAIR
+ENDEAVOURING TO TURN A SOMERSAULT IN A VERY RESTRICTED SPACE.]
+
+"Boisterous! Boisterous!" he murmured disapprovingly. "You should
+combine the gentleness of a Moore with the courage of a Wellington,
+William."
+
+William now perceived that Uncle George's eyelids were drooping
+slowly and William's sudden statuesque calm would have surprised many
+of his instructors.
+
+The silence and the warmth of the room had their effect. In less than
+three minutes Uncle George was dead to the world around him.
+
+William's form relaxed, then he crept up to look closely at the face
+of his enemy. He decided that he disliked it intensely. Something must
+be done at once. He looked round the room. There were not many weapons
+handy. Only his mother's work-box stood on a chair by the window, and
+on it a pile of socks belonging to Robert, William's elder brother.
+Beneath either arm of his chair one of Uncle George's coat-tails
+protruded. William soon departed on his way rejoicing, while on to one
+of Uncle George's coat-tails was firmly stitched a bright blue sock
+and on to the other a brilliant orange one. Robert's taste in socks
+was decidedly loud. William felt almost happy. The rain had stopped
+and he spent the morning with some of his friends whom he met in the
+road. They went bear-hunting in the wood; and though no bears were
+found, still their disappointment was considerably allayed by the fact
+that one of them saw a mouse and another one distinctly smelt a
+rabbit. William returned to lunch whistling to himself and had the
+intense satisfaction of seeing Uncle George enter the dining-room,
+obviously roused from his slumbers by the luncheon bell, and obviously
+quite unaware of the blue and orange socks that still adorned his
+person.
+
+"Curious!" he ejaculated, as Ethel, William's grown-up sister, pointed
+out the blue sock to him. "Most curious!"
+
+William departed discreetly muttering something about "better tidy up
+a bit," which drew from his sister expressions of surprise and
+solicitous questions as to his state of health.
+
+"Most curious!" again said Uncle George, who had now discovered the
+orange sock.
+
+When William returned, all excitement was over and Uncle George was
+consuming roast beef with energy.
+
+"Ah, William," he said, "we must complete the History lesson soon.
+Nothing like History. Nothing like History. Nothing like History.
+Teaches us to endure the buffets of fate with equanimity and to smile
+at misfortune. Then we must do some Geography." William groaned. "Most
+fascinating study. Rivers, mountains, cities, etc. Most improving. The
+morning should be devoted to intellectual work at your age, William,
+and the afternoon to the quiet pursuit of--some improving hobby. You
+would then find the true joy of life."
+
+To judge from William's countenance he did not wholly agree, but he
+made no objection. He had learnt that objection was useless, and
+against Uncle George's eloquence silence was his only weapon.
+
+After lunch Uncle George followed his usual custom and retired to
+rest. William went to the shed in the back garden and continued the
+erection of a rabbit hutch that he had begun a few days before. He
+hoped that if he made a hutch, Providence would supply a rabbit. He
+whistled blithely as he knocked nails in at random.
+
+"William, you mustn't do that now."
+
+He turned a stern gaze upon his mother.
+
+"Why not?" he said.
+
+"Uncle George is resting."
+
+With a crushing glance at her he strolled away from the shed. Someone
+had left the lawn mower in the middle of the lawn. With one of his
+rare impulses of pure virtue he determined to be useful. Also, he
+rather liked mowing the grass.
+
+"William, don't do that now," called his sister from the window.
+"Uncle George is resting."
+
+He deliberately drove the mowing machine into the middle of a garden
+bed and left it there. He was beginning to feel desperate. Then:
+
+"What _can_ I do?" he said bitterly to Ethel, who was still at the
+window.
+
+"You'd better find some quiet, improving hobby," she said unkindly as
+she went away.
+
+It is a proof of the utterly broken state of William's spirit that he
+did actually begin to think of hobbies, but none of those that
+occurred to him interested him. Stamp-collecting, pressed flowers,
+crest-collecting--Ugh!
+
+He set off down the road, his hands in his pockets and his brows drawn
+into a stern frown. He amused himself by imagining Uncle George in
+various predicaments, lost on a desert island, captured by pirates,
+or carried off by an eagle. Then something in the window of a house he
+passed caught his eye and he stopped suddenly. It was a stuffed bird
+under a glass case. Now that was something _like_ a hobby, stuffing
+dead animals! He wouldn't mind having that for a hobby. And it was
+quite quiet. He could do it while Uncle George was resting. And it
+must be quite easy. The first thing to do of course was to find a dead
+animal. Any old thing would do to begin on. A dead cat or dog. He
+would do bigger ones like bears and lions later on. He spent nearly an
+hour in a fruitless search for a dead cat or dog. He searched the
+ditches on both sides of the road and several gardens. He began to
+have a distinct sense of grievance against the race of cats and dogs
+in general for not dying in his vicinity. At the end of the hour he
+found a small dead frog. It was very dry and shrivelled, but it was
+certainly a _dead_ frog and would do to begin on. He took it home in
+his pocket. He wondered what they did first in stuffing dead animals.
+He'd heard something about "tannin'" them. But what was "tannin'," and
+how did one get it? Then he remembered suddenly having heard Ethel
+talk about the "tannin'" in tea. So _that_ was all right. The first
+thing to do was to get some tea. He went to the drawing-room. It was
+empty, but upon the table near the fire was a tea-tray and two cups.
+Evidently his mother and sister had just had tea there. He put the
+frog at the bottom of a cup and carefully filled the cup with tea
+from the teapot. Then he left it to soak and went out into the garden.
+
+[Illustration: IN FROZEN SILENCE UNCLE GEORGE PUT A SPOON INTO HIS CUP
+AND INVESTIGATED THE CONTENTS. IN STILL MORE FROZEN SILENCE MRS. BROWN
+AND WILLIAM WATCHED.]
+
+A few minutes later William's mother entered the drawing-room.
+
+Uncle George had finished resting and was standing by the
+mantel-piece with a cup in his hand.
+
+"I see you poured out my tea for me," he said. "But rather a curious
+taste. Doubtless you boil the milk now. Safer, of course. Much safer.
+But it imparts a curious flavour."
+
+He took another sip.
+
+"But--I didn't pour out your tea----" began Mrs. Brown.
+
+Here William entered. He looked quickly at the table.
+
+"Who's meddlin' with my frog?" he said angrily. "It's my hobby, an'
+I'm stuffin' frogs an' someone's been an' took my frog. I left it on
+the table."
+
+"On the table?" said his mother.
+
+"Yes. In a cup of tea. Gettin' tannin.' You know. For stuffin'. I was
+puttin' him in tannin' first. I----"
+
+Uncle George grew pale. In frozen silence he put a spoon into his cup
+and investigated the contents. In still more frozen silence Mrs. Brown
+and William watched. That moment held all the cumulative horror of a
+Greek tragedy. Then Uncle George put down his cup and went silently
+from the room. On his face was the expression of one who is going to
+look up the first train home. Fate had sent him a buffet he could not
+endure with equanimity, a misfortune at which he could not smile, and
+Fate had avenged William for much.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+THE RIVALS
+
+
+William was aware of a vague feeling of apprehension when he heard
+that Joan Clive, the little girl who lived next door, was having a
+strange cousin to stay for three weeks. All his life, William had
+accepted Joan's adoration and homage with condescending indifference,
+but he did not like to imagine a possible rival.
+
+"What's he _coming_ for?" he demanded with an ungracious scowl,
+perched uncomfortably and dangerously on the high wall that separated
+the two gardens and glaring down at Joan. "What's he comin' _for_, any
+way?"
+
+"'Cause mother's invited him," explained Joan simply, with a shake of
+her golden curls. "He's called Cuthbert. She says he's a sweet little
+boy."
+
+"_Sweet!_" echoed William in a tone of exaggerated horror. "Ugh!"
+
+"Well," said Joan, with the smallest note of indignation in her voice,
+"you needn't play with him if you don't like."
+
+"_Me?_ Play? With _him_?" scowled William as if he could not believe
+his ears. "I'm not likely to go playin' with a kid like wot _he'll_
+be!"
+
+Joan raised aggrieved blue eyes.
+
+"You're a _horrid_ boy sometimes, William!" she said. "Any way, I
+shall have him to play with soon."
+
+It was the first time he had received anything but admiration from
+her.
+
+He scowled speechlessly.
+
+Cuthbert arrived the next morning.
+
+William was restless and ill-at-ease, and several times climbed the
+ladder for a glimpse of the guest, but all he could see was the garden
+inhabited only by a cat and a gardener. He amused himself by throwing
+stones at the cat till he hit the gardener by mistake and then fled
+precipitately before a storm of abuse. William and the gardener were
+enemies of very long standing. After dinner he went out again into the
+garden and stood gazing through a chink in the wall.
+
+Cuthbert was in the garden.
+
+Though as old and as tall as William, he was dressed in an embroidered
+tunic, very short knickers, and white socks. Over his blue eyes his
+curls were brushed up into a golden halo.
+
+He was a picturesque child.
+
+"What shall we do?" Joan was saying. "Would you like to play hide and
+seek?"
+
+"No; leth not play at rough gameth," said Cuthbert.
+
+With a wild spasm of joy William realised that his enemy lisped. It
+is always well to have a handle against one's enemies.
+
+"What shall we do, then?" said Joan, somewhat wearily.
+
+"Leth thit down an' I'll tell you fairy thorieth," said Cuthbert.
+
+A loud snort from inside the wall just by his ear startled him, and he
+clutched Joan's arm.
+
+"What'th that?" he said.
+
+There were sounds of clambering feet on the other side of the wall,
+then William's grimy countenance appeared.
+
+"Hello, Joan!" he said, ignoring the stranger.
+
+Joan's eyes brightened.
+
+"Come and play with us, William," she begged.
+
+"We don't want dirty little boyth," murmured Cuthbert fastidiously.
+William could not, with justice, have objected to the epithet. He had
+spent the last half-hour climbing on to the rafters of the disused
+coach-house, and dust and cobwebs adorned his face and hair.
+
+"He's _always_ like that," explained Joan, carelessly.
+
+By this time William had thought of a suitable rejoinder.
+
+"All right," he jeered, "don't look at me then. Go on tellin' fairy
+_thorieth_."
+
+Cuthbert flushed angrily.
+
+"You're a nathty rude little boy," he said. "I'll tell my mother."
+
+Thus war was declared.
+
+He came to tea the next day. Not all William's pleading could persuade
+his mother to cancel the invitation.
+
+"Well," said William darkly, "wait till you've _seen_ him, that's all.
+Wait till you've heard him _speakin'_. He can't talk even. He can't
+_play_. He tells fairy stories. He don't like _dirt_. He's got long
+hair an' a funny long coat. He's _awful_, I tell you. I don't _want_
+to have him to tea. I don't want to be washed an' all just because
+_he's_ comin' to tea."
+
+But as usual William's eloquence availed nothing.
+
+Several people came to tea that afternoon, and there was a sudden
+silence when Mrs. Clive, Joan, and Cuthbert entered. Cuthbert was in a
+white silk tunic embroidered with blue, he wore white shoes and white
+silk socks. His golden curls shone. He looked angelic.
+
+"Oh, the darling!"
+
+"Isn't he adorable?"
+
+"What a _picture_!"
+
+"Come here, sweetheart."
+
+Cuthbert was quite used to this sort of thing.
+
+They were more delighted than ever with him when they discovered his
+lisp.
+
+His manners were perfect. He raised his face, with a charming smile,
+to be kissed, then sat down on the sofa between Joan and Mrs. Clive,
+swinging long bare legs.
+
+William, sitting, an unwilling victim, on a small chair in a corner of
+the room, brushed and washed till he shone again, was conscious of a
+feeling of fury quite apart from the usual sense of outrage that he
+always felt upon such an occasion. It was bad enough to be washed till
+the soap went into his eyes and down his ears despite all his
+protests. It was bad enough to have had his hair brushed till his head
+smarted. It was bad enough to be hustled out of his comfortable jersey
+into his Eton suit which he loathed. But to see Joan, _his_ Joan,
+sitting next the strange, dressed-up, lisping boy, smiling and talking
+to him, that was almost more than he could bear with calmness.
+Previously, as has been said, he had received Joan's adoration with
+coldness, but previously there had been no rival.
+
+"William," said his mother, "take Joan and Cuthbert and show them your
+engine and books and things. Remember you're the _host_, dear," she
+murmured as he passed. "Try to make them happy."
+
+He turned upon her a glance that would have made a stronger woman
+quail.
+
+Silently he led them up to his play-room.
+
+"There's my engine, an' my books. You can play with them," he said
+coldly to Cuthbert. "Let's go and play in the garden, you and me,
+Joan." But Joan shook her head.
+
+"I don't thuppoth the'd care to go out without me," said Cuthbert
+airily. "_I'll_ go with you. Thith boy can play here if he liketh."
+
+And William, artist in vituperation as he was, could think of no
+response.
+
+He followed them into the garden, and there came upon him a wild
+determination to show his superiority.
+
+"You can't climb that tree," he began.
+
+"I can," said Cuthbert sweetly.
+
+"Well, _climb_ it then," grimly.
+
+"No, I don't want to get my thingth all methed. I _can_ climb it, but
+you can't. He can't climb it, Joan, he'th trying to pretend he can
+climb it when he can't. He knowth I can climb it, but I don't want to
+get my thingth methed."
+
+Joan smiled admiringly at Cuthbert.
+
+"I'll _show_ you," said William desperately. "I'll just _show_ you."
+
+He showed them.
+
+He climbed till the tree-top swayed with his weight, then descended,
+hot and triumphant. The tree was covered with green lichen, a great
+part of which had deposited itself upon William's suit. His efforts
+also had twisted his collar round till its stud was beneath his ear.
+His heated countenance beamed with pride.
+
+For a moment Cuthbert was nonplussed. Then he said scornfully:
+
+"Don't he look a _fright_, Joan?" Joan giggled.
+
+But William was wholly engrossed in his self-imposed task of "showing
+them." He led them to the bottom of the garden, where a small stream
+(now almost dry) disappeared into a narrow tunnel to flow under the
+road and reappear in the field at the other side.
+
+"You can't crawl through that," challenged William, "you can't _do_
+it. I've _done_ it, done it often. I bet _you_ can't. I bet you can't
+get halfway. I----"
+
+"Well, _do_ it, then!" jeered Cuthbert.
+
+William, on all fours, disappeared into the mud and slime of the small
+round aperture. Joan clasped her hands, and even Cuthbert was secretly
+impressed. They stood in silence. At intervals William's muffled voice
+came from the tunnel.
+
+"It's jolly muddy, too, I can _tell_ you."
+
+"I've caught a frog! I say, I've caught a frog!"
+
+"Crumbs! It's got away!"
+
+"It's nearly quicksands here."
+
+"If I tried I could nearly _drown_ here!"
+
+At last, through the hedge, they saw him emerge in the field across
+the road. He swaggered across to them aglow with his own heroism. As
+he entered the gate he was rewarded by the old light of adoration in
+Joan's blue eyes, but on full sight of him it quickly turned to
+consternation. His appearance was beyond description. There was a
+malicious smile on Cuthbert's face.
+
+"Do thumthing elth," he urged him. "Go on, do thumthing elth."
+
+"Oh, William," said Joan anxiously, "you'd better not."
+
+But the gods had sent madness to William. He was drunk with the sense
+of his own prowess. He was regardless of consequences.
+
+[Illustration: "I CAN CLIMB UP THAT AN' SLIDE DOWN THE COAL INSIDE.
+THAT'S WHAT I CAN DO. THERE'S NOTHIN' I CAN'T DO!" SAID WILLIAM.]
+
+He pointed to a little window high up in the coal-house.
+
+"I can climb up that an' slide down the coal inside. That's what I can
+do. There's _nothin'_ I can't do. I----"
+
+"All right," urged Cuthbert, "if you can do that, do it, and I'll
+believe you can do anything."
+
+For Cuthbert, with unholy glee, foresaw William's undoing.
+
+"Oh, William," pleaded Joan, "_I know_ you're brave, but don't----"
+
+But William was already doing it. They saw his disappearance into the
+little window, they heard plainly his descent down the coal heap
+inside, and in less than a minute he appeared in the doorway. He was
+almost unrecognisable. Coal dust adhered freely to the moist
+consistency of the mud and lichen already clinging to his suit, as
+well as to his hair and face. His collar had been almost torn away
+from its stud. William himself was smiling proudly, utterly
+unconscious of his appearance. Joan was plainly wavering between
+horror and admiration. Then the moment for which Cuthbert had longed
+arrived.
+
+"Children! come in now!"
+
+Cuthbert, clean and dainty, entered the drawing-room first and pointed
+an accusing finger at the strange figure which followed.
+
+"He'th been climbing treeth an' crawling in the mud, an' rolling down
+the coalth. He'th a nathty rough boy."
+
+A wild babel arose as William entered.
+
+"_William!_"
+
+"You _dreadful_ boy!"
+
+"Joan, come right away from him. Come over here."
+
+"What _will_ your father say?"
+
+"William, my _carpet_!"
+
+For the greater part of the stream's bed still clung to William's
+boots.
+
+Doggedly William defended himself.
+
+"I was showin' 'em how to do things. I was bein' a host. I was tryin'
+to make 'em _happy_! I----"
+
+"William, don't stand there talking. Go straight upstairs to the
+bathroom."
+
+It was the end of the first battle, and undoubtedly William had lost.
+Yet William had caught sight of the smile on Cuthbert's face and
+William had decided that that smile was something to be avenged.
+
+But fate did not favour him. Indeed, fate seemed to do the reverse.
+
+The idea of a children's play did not emanate from William's mother,
+or Joan's. They were both free from guilt in that respect. It emanated
+from Mrs. de Vere Carter. Mrs. de Vere Carter was a neighbour with a
+genius for organisation. There were few things she did not organise
+till their every other aspect or aim was lost but that of
+"organisation." She also had what amounted practically to a disease
+for "getting up" things. She "got up" plays, and bazaars, and
+pageants, and concerts. There were, in fact, few things she did not
+"get up." It was the sight of Joan and Cuthbert walking together down
+the road, the sun shining on their golden curls, that had inspired her
+with the idea of "getting up" a children's play. And Joan must be the
+Princess and little Cuthbert the Prince.
+
+Mrs. de Vere Carter was to write the play herself. At first she
+decided on Cinderella. Unfortunately there was a dearth of little
+girls in the neighbourhood, and therefore it was decided at a meeting
+composed of Mrs. de Vere Carter, Mrs. Clive, Mrs. Brown (William's
+mother), and Ethel (William's sister), that William could easily be
+dressed up to represent one of the ugly sisters. It was, however,
+decided at a later meeting, consisting of William and his mother and
+sister, that William could not take the part. It was William who came
+to this decision. He was adamant against both threats and entreaties.
+Without cherishing any delusions about his personal appearance, he
+firmly declined to play the part of the ugly sister. They took the
+news with deep apologies to Mrs. de Vere Carter, who was already in
+the middle of the first act. Her already low opinion of William sank
+to zero. Their next choice was little Red Riding Hood, and William was
+lured, by glowing pictures of a realistic costume, into consenting to
+take the part of the Wolf. Every day he had to be dragged by some
+elder and responsible member of his family to a rehearsal. His hatred
+of Cuthbert was only equalled by his hatred of Mrs. de Vere Carter.
+
+"He acts so _unnaturally_," moaned Mrs. de Vere Carter. "Try really
+to _think_ you're a wolf, darling. Put some spirit into it.
+Be--_animated_."
+
+William scowled at her and once more muttered monotonously his opening
+lines:
+
+    "A wolf am I--a wolf on mischief bent,
+     To eat this little maid is my intent."
+
+"Take a breath after 'bent,' darling. Now say it again."
+
+William complied, introducing this time a loud and audible gasp to
+represent the breath. Mrs. de Vere Carter sighed.
+
+"Now, Cuthbert, darling, draw your little sword and put your arm round
+Joan. That's right."
+
+Cuthbert obeyed, and his clear voice rose in a high chanting monotone.
+
+    "Avaunt! Begone! You wicked wolf, away!
+     This gentle maid shall never be your prey."
+
+"That's beautiful, darling. Now, William, slink away. _Slink_ away,
+darling. Don't stand staring at Cuthbert like that. Slink away. I'll
+show you. Watch me slink away."
+
+Mrs. de Vere Carter slunk away realistically, and the sight of it
+brought momentary delight to William's weary soul. Otherwise the
+rehearsals were not far removed from torture to him. The thought of
+being a wolf had at first attracted him, but actually a wolf character
+who had to repeat Mrs. de Vere Carter's meaningless couplets and be
+worsted at every turn by the smiling Cuthbert, who was forced to
+watch from behind the scenes the fond embraces of Cuthbert and Joan,
+galled his proud spirit unspeakably. Moreover Cuthbert monopolised her
+both before and after the rehearsals.
+
+"Come away, Joan, he'th prob'bly all over coal dutht and all of a
+meth."
+
+The continued presence of unsympathetic elders prevented his proper
+avenging of such insults.
+
+The day of the performance approached, and there arose some little
+trouble about William's costume. If the wearing of the dining-room
+hearth-rug had been forbidden by Authority it would have at once
+become the dearest wish of William's heart and a thing to be
+accomplished at all costs. But, because Authority decreed that that
+should be William's official costume as the Wolf, William at once
+began to find insuperable difficulties.
+
+"It's a dirty ole thing, all dust and bits of black hair come off it
+on me. I don't think it _looks_ like a wolf. Well, if I've gotter be a
+wolf folks might just as well _know_ what I am. This looks like as if
+it came off a black sheep or sumthin'. You don't want folks to think
+I'm a _sheep_ 'stead of a _wolf_, do you? You don't want me to be made
+look ridiclus before all these folks, do you?"
+
+He was slightly mollified by their promise to hire a wolf's head for
+him. He practised wolf's howlings (though these had no part in Mrs. de
+Vere Carter's play) at night in his room till he drove his family
+almost beyond the bounds of sanity.
+
+Mrs. de Vere Carter had hired the Village Hall for the performance,
+and the proceeds were to go to a local charity.
+
+On the night of the play the Hall was packed, and Mrs. de Vere Carter
+was in a flutter of excitement and importance.
+
+"Yes, the dear children are splendid, and they look _beautiful_! We've
+all worked so _hard_. Yes, entirely my own composition. I only hope
+that William Brown won't _murder_ my poetry as he does at rehearsals."
+
+The curtain went up.
+
+The scene was a wood, as was evident from a few small branches of
+trees placed here and there at intervals on the stage.
+
+Joan, in a white dress and red cloak, entered and began to speak,
+quickly and breathlessly, stressing every word with impartial
+regularity.
+
+    "A little maid am I--Red Riding-Hood.
+     My journey lies along this dark, thick wood.
+     Within my basket is a little jar
+     Of jam--a present for my grand-mamma."
+
+Then Cuthbert entered--a Prince in white satin with a blue sash. There
+was a rapt murmur of admiration in the audience as he made his
+appearance.
+
+William waited impatiently and uneasily behind the scenes. His wolf's
+head was very hot. One of the eye-holes was beyond his range of
+vision; through the other he had a somewhat prescribed view of what
+went on around him. He had been pinned tightly into the dining-room
+hearth-rug, his arms pinioned down by his side. He was distinctly
+uncomfortable.
+
+At last his cue came.
+
+Red Riding-Hood and the Prince parted after a short conversation in
+which their acquaintance made rapid strides, and at the end of which
+the Prince said casually as he turned to go:
+
+    "So sweet a maid have I never seen,
+     Ere long I hope to make her my wife and queen."
+
+Red Riding-Hood gazed after him, remarking (all in the same breath and
+tone):
+
+    "How kind he is, how gentle and how good!
+     But, see what evil beast comes through the wood!"
+
+Here William entered amid wild applause. On the stage he found that
+his one eye-hole gave him an excellent view of the audience. His
+mother and father were in the second row. Turning his head round
+slowly he discovered his sister Ethel sitting with a friend near the
+back.
+
+"William," hissed the prompter, "go on! 'A wolf am I----'"
+
+But William was engrossed in the audience. There was Mrs. Clive about
+the middle of the room.
+
+"'A wolf am I'--_go on_, William!"
+
+William had now found the cook and housemaid in the last row of all
+and was turning his eye-hole round in search of fresh discoveries.
+
+The prompter grew desperate.
+
+"'A wolf am I--a wolf on mischief bent.' _Say_ it, William."
+
+William turned his wolf's head towards the wings. "Well, I was _goin'_
+to say it," he said irritably, "if you'd lef' me alone."
+
+The audience tittered.
+
+"Well, say it," said the voice of the invisible prompter.
+
+"Well, I'm going to," said William. "I'm not goin' to say that again
+wot you said 'cause they all heard it. I'll go on from there."
+
+The audience rocked in wild delight. Behind the scenes Mrs. de Vere
+Carter wrung her hands and sniffed strong smelling-salts. "That boy!"
+she moaned.
+
+Then William, sinking his voice from the indignant clearness with
+which it had addressed the prompter, to a muffled inaudibility,
+continued:
+
+     "To eat this little maid is my intent."
+
+But there leapt on the stage again the radiant white and blue figure
+of the Prince brandishing his wooden sword.
+
+    "Avaunt! Begone! You wicked wolf, away!
+     This gentle maid shall never be your prey."
+
+At this point William should have slunk away. But the vision revealed
+by his one available eye-hole of the Prince standing in a threatening
+attitude with one arm round Joan filled him with a sudden and
+unaccountable annoyance. He advanced slowly and pugnaciously towards
+the Prince; and the Prince, who had never before acted with William in
+his head (which was hired for one evening only) fled from the stage
+with a wild yell of fear. The curtain was lowered hastily.
+
+There was consternation behind the scenes. William, glaring from out
+his eye-hole and refusing to remove his head, defended himself in his
+best manner.
+
+"Well I di'n't tell him to run away, did I? I di'n't _mean_ him to run
+away. I only _looked_ at him. Well, I was goin' to slink in a minit. I
+only wanted to look at him. I was _goin'_ to slink."
+
+"Oh, never mind! Get on with the play!" moaned Mrs. de Vere Carter.
+"But you've quite destroyed the _atmosphere_, William. You've spoilt
+the beautiful story. But hurry up, it's time for the grandmother's
+cottage scene now."
+
+Not a word of William's speeches was audible in the next scene, but
+his attack on and consumption of the aged grandmother was one of the
+most realistic parts of the play, especially considering the fact that
+his arms were imprisoned.
+
+"Not so roughly, William!" said the prompter in a sibilant whisper.
+"Don't make so much noise. They can't hear a word anyone's saying."
+
+At last William was clothed in the nightgown and nightcap and lying in
+the bed ready for little Red Riding-Hood's entrance. The combined
+effect of the rug and the head and the thought of Cuthbert had made
+him hotter and crosser than he ever remembered having felt before. He
+was conscious of a wild and unreasoning indignation against the world
+in general. Then Joan entered and began to pipe monotonously:
+
+    "Dear grandmamma, I've come with all quickness
+     To comfort you and sooth your bed of sickness,
+     Here are some little dainties I have brought
+     To show you how we cherish you in our thought."
+
+Here William wearily rose from his bed and made an unconvincing spring
+in her direction.
+
+But on to the stage leapt Cuthbert once more, the vision in blue and
+white with golden curls shining and sword again drawn.
+
+"Ha! evil beast----"
+
+It was too much for William. The heat and discomfort of his attire,
+the sight of the hated Cuthbert already about to embrace _his_ Joan,
+goaded him to temporary madness. With a furious gesture he burst the
+pins which attached the dining-room hearth-rug to his person and freed
+his arms. He tore off the white nightgown. He sprang at the petrified
+Cuthbert--a small wild figure in a jersey suit and a wolf's head.
+
+[Illustration: THE SIGHT OF THE HATED CUTHBERT ABOUT TO EMBRACE HIS
+JOAN GOADED WILLIAM TO TEMPORARY MADNESS.]
+
+Mrs. de Vere Carter had filled Red Riding-Hood's basket with
+packages of simple groceries, which included, among other things, a
+paper bag of flour and a jar of jam.
+
+William seized these wildly and hurled handfuls of flour at the
+prostrate, screaming Cuthbert. The stage was suddenly pandemonium. The
+other small actors promptly joined the battle. The prompter was too
+panic-stricken to lower the curtain. The air was white with clouds of
+flour. The victim scrambled to his feet and fled, a ghost-like figure,
+round the table.
+
+"Take him off me," he yelled. "Take him _off_ me. Take William off
+me." His wailing was deafening.
+
+The next second he was on the floor, with William on top of him.
+William now varied the proceedings by emptying the jar of jam on to
+Cuthbert's face and hair.
+
+They were separated at last by the prompter and stage manager, while
+the audience rose and cheered hysterically. But louder than the
+cheering rose the sound of Cuthbert's lamentation.
+
+"He'th a nathty, rough boy! He puthed me down. He'th methed my nith
+clotheth. Boo-hoo!"
+
+Mrs. de Vere Carter was inarticulate.
+
+"That boy ... that _boy_ ... _that boy_!" was all she could say.
+
+William was hurried away by his family before she could regain speech.
+
+"You've disgraced us publicly," said Mrs. Brown plaintively. "I
+thought you must have gone _mad_. People will never forget it. I
+might have known...."
+
+When pressed for an explanation William would only say:
+
+"Well, I felt hot. I felt awful hot, an' I di'n't like Cuthbert."
+
+He appeared to think this sufficient explanation, though he was fully
+prepared for the want of sympathy displayed by his family.
+
+"Well," he said firmly, "I'd just like to see you do it, I'd just like
+to see you be in the head and that ole rug an' have to say stupid
+things an'--an' see folks you don't like, an' I bet you'd _do_
+something."
+
+But he felt that public feeling was against him, and relapsed sadly
+into silence. From the darkness in front of them came the sound of
+Cuthbert's wailing as Mrs. Clive led her two charges home.
+
+"_Poor_ little Cuthbert!" said Mrs. Brown. "If I were Joan, I don't
+think I'd ever speak to you again."
+
+"Huh!" ejaculated William scornfully.
+
+But at William's gate a small figure slipped out from the darkness and
+two little arms crept round William's neck.
+
+"Oh, _William_," she whispered, "he's going to-morrow, and I am glad.
+Isn't he a softie? Oh, William, I do _love_ you, you do such _'citing_
+things!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+THE GHOST
+
+
+William lay on the floor of the barn, engrossed in a book. This was a
+rare thing with William. His bottle of lemonade lay untouched by his
+side, and he even forgot the half-eaten apple which reposed in his
+hand. His jaws were arrested midway in the act of munching.
+
+"Our hero," he read, "was awakened about midnight by the sound of the
+rattling of chains. Raising himself on his arm he gazed into the
+darkness. About a foot from his bed he could discern a tall, white,
+faintly-gleaming figure and a ghostly arm which beckoned him."
+
+William's hair stood on end.
+
+"Crumbs!" he ejaculated.
+
+"Nothing perturbed," he continued to read, "our hero rose and followed
+the spectre through the long winding passages of the old castle.
+Whenever he hesitated, a white, luminous arm, hung around with ghostly
+chains, beckoned him on."
+
+"Gosh!" murmured the enthralled William. "I'd have bin scared!"
+
+"At the panel in the wall the ghost stopped, and silently the panel
+slid aside, revealing a flight of stone steps. Down this went the
+apparition followed by our intrepid hero. There was a small stone
+chamber at the bottom, and into this the rays of moonlight poured,
+revealing a skeleton in a sitting attitude beside a chest of golden
+sovereigns. The gold gleamed in the moonlight."
+
+"Golly!" gasped William, red with excitement.
+
+"William!"
+
+The cry came from somewhere in the sunny garden outside. William
+frowned sternly, took another bite of apple, and continued to read.
+
+"Our hero gave a cry of astonishment."
+
+"Yea, I'd have done that all right," agreed William.
+
+"_William!_"
+
+"Oh, shut _up_!" called William, irritably, thereby revealing his
+hiding-place.
+
+His grown-up sister, Ethel, appeared in the doorway.
+
+"Mother wants you," she announced.
+
+"Well, I can't come. I'm busy," said William, coldly, taking a draught
+of lemonade and returning to his book.
+
+"Cousin Mildred's come," continued his sister.
+
+William raised his freckled face from his book.
+
+"Well, I can't help that, can I?" he said, with the air of one arguing
+patiently with a lunatic.
+
+Ethel shrugged her shoulders and departed.
+
+"He's reading some old book in the barn," he heard her announce, "and
+he says----"
+
+[Illustration: ETHEL APPEARED IN THE DOORWAY. "MOTHER WANTS YOU," SHE
+ANNOUNCED.]
+
+Here he foresaw complications and hastily followed her.
+
+"Well, I'm _comin'_, aren't I?" he said, "as fast as I can."
+
+Cousin Mildred was sitting on the lawn. She was elderly and very thin
+and very tall, and she wore a curious, long, shapeless garment of
+green silk with a golden girdle.
+
+"Dear child!" she murmured, taking the grimy hand that William held
+out to her in dignified silence.
+
+He was cheered by the sight of tea and hot cakes.
+
+Cousin Mildred ate little but talked much.
+
+"I'm living in _hopes_ of a psychic revelation, dear," she said to
+William's mother. "_In hopes!_ I've heard of wonderful experiences,
+but so far none--alas!--have befallen me. Automatic writing I have
+tried, but any communication the spirits may have sent me that way
+remained illegible--quite illegible."
+
+She sighed.
+
+William eyed her with scorn while he consumed reckless quantities of
+hot cakes.
+
+"I would _love_ to have a psychic revelation," she sighed again.
+
+"Yes, dear," murmured Mrs. Brown, mystified. "William, you've had
+enough."
+
+"_Enough?_" said William, in surprise. "Why I've only had----" He
+decided hastily against exact statistics and in favour of vague
+generalities.
+
+"I've only had hardly any," he said, aggrievedly.
+
+"You've had _enough_, anyway," said Mrs. Brown firmly.
+
+The martyr rose, pale but proud.
+
+"Well, can I go then, if I can't have any more tea?"
+
+"There's plenty of bread and butter."
+
+"I don't want bread and butter," he said, scornfully.
+
+"Dear child!" murmured Cousin Mildred, vaguely, as he departed.
+
+He returned to the story and lemonade and apple, and stretched himself
+happily at full length in the shady barn.
+
+"But the ghostly visitant seemed to be fading away, and with a soft
+sigh was gone. Our hero, with a start of surprise, realised that he
+was alone with the gold and the skeleton. For the first time he
+experienced a thrill of cold fear and slowly retreated up the stairs
+before the hollow and, as it seemed, vindictive stare of the grinning
+skeleton."
+
+"I wonder wot he was grinnin' at?" said William.
+
+"But to his horror the door was shut, the panel had slid back. He had
+no means of opening it. He was imprisoned on a remote part of the
+castle, where even the servants came but rarely, and at intervals of
+weeks. Would his fate be that of the man whose bones gleamed white in
+the moonlight?"
+
+"Crumbs!" said William, earnestly.
+
+Then a shadow fell upon the floor of the barn, and Cousin Mildred's
+voice greeted him.
+
+"So you're here, dear? I'm just exploring your garden and thinking. I
+like to be alone. I see that you are the same, dear child!"
+
+"I'm readin'," said William, with icy dignity.
+
+"Dear boy! Won't you come and show me the garden and your favourite
+nooks and corners?"
+
+William looked at her thin, vague, amiable face, and shut his book
+with a resigned sigh.
+
+"All right," he said, laconically.
+
+He conducted her in patient silence round the kitchen garden and the
+shrubbery. She looked sadly at the house, with its red brick,
+uncompromisingly-modern appearance.
+
+"William, I wish your house was _old_," she said, sadly.
+
+William resented any aspersions on his house from outsiders.
+Personally he considered newness in a house an attraction, but, if
+anyone wished for age, then old his house should be.
+
+"_Old_!" he ejaculated. "Huh! I guess it's _old_ enough."
+
+"Oh, is it?" she said, delighted. "Restored recently, I suppose?"
+
+"Umph," agreed William, nodding.
+
+"Oh, I'm so glad. I may have some psychic revelation here, then?"
+
+"Oh yes," said William, judicially. "I shouldn't wonder."
+
+"William, have you ever had one?"
+
+"Well," said William, guardedly, "I dunno."
+
+His mysterious manner threw her into a transport.
+
+"Of course not to anyone. But to _me_--I'm one of the sympathetic! To
+me you may speak freely, William."
+
+William, feeling that his ignorance could no longer be hidden by
+words, maintained a discreet silence.
+
+"To me it shall be sacred, William. I will tell no one--not even your
+parents. I believe that children see--clouds of glory and all that,"
+vaguely. "With your unstained childish vision----"
+
+"I'm eleven," put in William indignantly.
+
+"You see things that to the wise are sealed. Some manifestation, some
+spirit, some ghostly visitant----"
+
+"Oh," said William, suddenly enlightened, "you talkin' about
+_ghosts_?"
+
+"Yes, ghosts, William."
+
+Her air of deference flattered him. She evidently expected great
+things of him. Great things she should have. At the best of times with
+William imagination was stronger than cold facts.
+
+He gave a short laugh.
+
+"Oh, _ghosts_! Yes, I've seen some of 'em. I guess I _have_!"
+
+Her face lit up.
+
+"Will you tell me some of your experiences, William?" she said,
+humbly.
+
+"Well," said William, loftily, "you won't go _talkin'_ about it, will
+you?"
+
+"Oh, _no_."
+
+"Well, I've seen 'em, you know. Chains an' all. And skeletons. And
+ghostly arms beckonin' an' all that."
+
+William was enjoying himself. He walked with a swagger. He almost
+believed what he said. She gasped.
+
+"Oh, go on!" she said. "Tell me all."
+
+He went on. He soared aloft on the wings of imagination, his hands in
+his pockets, his freckled face puckered up in frowning mental effort.
+He certainly enjoyed himself.
+
+"If only some of it could happen to _me_," breathed his confidante.
+"Does it come to you at _nights_, William?"
+
+"Yes," nodded William. "Nights mostly."
+
+"I shall--watch to-night," said Cousin Mildred. "And you say the house
+is old?"
+
+"Awful old," said William, reassuringly.
+
+Her attitude to William was a relief to the rest of the family.
+Visitors sometimes objected to William.
+
+"She seems to have almost taken to William," said his mother, with a
+note of unflattering incredulity in her voice.
+
+William was pleased yet embarrassed by her attentions. It was a
+strange experience to him to be accepted by a grown-up as a
+fellow-being. She talked to him with interest and a certain humility,
+she bought him sweets and seemed pleased that he accepted them, she
+went for walks with him, and evidently took his constrained silence
+for the silence of depth and wisdom.
+
+Beneath his embarrassment he was certainly pleased and flattered. She
+seemed to prefer his company to that of Ethel. That was one in the
+eye for Ethel. But he felt that something was expected from him in
+return for all this kindness and attention. William was a sportsman.
+He decided to supply it. He took a book of ghost stories from the
+juvenile library at school, and read them in the privacy of his room
+at night. Many were the thrilling adventures which he had to tell to
+Cousin Mildred in the morning. Cousin Mildred's bump of credulity was
+a large one. She supplied him with sweets on a generous scale. She
+listened to him with awe and wonder.
+
+"William ... you are one of the elect, the chosen," she said, "one of
+those whose spirits can break down the barrier between the unseen
+world and ours with ease." And always she sighed and stroked back her
+thin locks, sadly. "Oh, how I wish that some experience would happen
+to _me_!"
+
+One morning, after the gift of an exceptionally large tin of toffee,
+William's noblest feelings were aroused. Manfully he decided that
+something _should_ happen to her.
+
+Cousin Mildred slept in the bedroom above William's. Descent from one
+window to the other was easy, but ascent was difficult. That night
+Cousin Mildred awoke suddenly as the clock struck twelve. There was no
+moon, and only dimly did she discern the white figure that stood in
+the light of the window. She sat up, quivering with eagerness. Her
+short, thin little pigtail, stuck out horizontally from her head.
+Her mouth was wide open.
+
+[Illustration: SHE SAT UP, QUIVERING WITH EAGERNESS. HER SHORT, THIN
+LITTLE PIGTAIL STUCK OUT HORIZONTALLY FROM HER HEAD. HER MOUTH WAS
+WIDE OPEN.]
+
+"Oh!" she gasped.
+
+The white figure moved a step forward and coughed nervously.
+
+Cousin Mildred clasped her hands.
+
+"Speak!" she said, in a tense whisper. "Oh, speak! Some message! Some
+revelation."
+
+William was nonplussed. None of the ghosts he had read of had spoken.
+They had rattled and groaned and beckoned, but they had not spoken. He
+tried groaning and emitted a sound faintly reminiscent of a sea-sick
+voyager.
+
+"Oh, _speak_!" pleaded Cousin Mildred.
+
+Evidently speech was a necessary part of this performance. William
+wondered whether ghosts spoke English or a language of their own. He
+inclined to the latter view and nobly took the plunge.
+
+"Honk. Yonk. Ponk," he said, firmly.
+
+Cousin Mildred gasped in wonder.
+
+"Oh, explain," she pleaded, ardently. "Explain in our poor human
+speech. Some message----"
+
+William took fright. It was all turning out to be much more
+complicated than he had expected. He hastily passed through the room
+and out of the door, closing it noisily behind him. As he ran along
+the passage came a sound like a crash of thunder. Outside in the
+passage were Cousin Mildred's boots, William's father's boots, and
+William's brother's boots, and into these charged William in his
+headlong retreat. They slid noisily along the polished wooden surface
+of the floor, ricochetting into each other as they went. Doors opened
+suddenly and William's father collided with William's brother in the
+dark passage, where they wrestled fiercely before they discovered each
+other's identity.
+
+"I heard that confounded noise and I came out----"
+
+"So did I."
+
+"Well, then, who _made_ it?"
+
+"Who did?"
+
+"If it's that wretched boy up to any tricks again----"
+
+William's father left the sentence unfinished, but went with
+determined tread towards his younger son's room. William was
+discovered, carefully spreading a sheet over his bed and smoothing it
+down.
+
+Mr. Brown, roused from his placid slumbers, was a sight to make a
+brave man quail, but the glance that William turned upon him was
+guileless and sweet.
+
+"Did you make that confounded row kicking boots about the passage?"
+spluttered the man of wrath.
+
+"No, Father," said William, gently. "I've not bin kickin' no boots
+about."
+
+"Were you down on the lower landing just now?" said Mr. Brown, with
+compressed fury.
+
+William considered this question silently for a few seconds, then
+spoke up brightly and innocently.
+
+"I dunno, Father. You see, some folks walk in their sleep and when
+they wake up they dunno where they've bin. Why, I've heard of a man
+walkin' down a fire escape in his sleep, and then he woke up and
+couldn't think how he'd got to be there where he was. You see, he
+didn't know he'd walked down all them steps sound asleep, and----"
+
+"Be _quiet_," thundered his father. "What in the name of----what on
+earth are you doing making your bed in the middle of the night? Are
+you insane?"
+
+William, perfectly composed, tucked in one end of his sheet.
+
+"No Father, I'm not insane. My sheet just fell off me in the night and
+I got out to pick it up. I must of bin a bit restless, I suppose.
+Sheets come off easy when folks is restless in bed, and they don't
+know anythin' about it till they wake up jus' same as sleep walkin'.
+Why, I've heard of folks----"
+
+"Be _quiet_----!"
+
+At that moment William's mother arrived, placid as ever, in her
+dressing gown, carrying a candle.
+
+"Look at him," said Mr. Brown, pointing at the meek-looking William.
+
+"He plays Rugger up and down the passage with the boots all night and
+then he begins to make his bed. He's mad. He's----"
+
+William turned his calm gaze upon him.
+
+"_I_ wasn't playin' Rugger with the boots, Father," he said,
+patiently.
+
+Mrs. Brown laid her hand soothingly upon her husband's arm.
+
+"You know, dear," she said, gently, "a house is always full of noises
+at night. Basket chairs creaking----"
+
+Mr. Brown's face grew purple.
+
+"_Basket chairs----!_" he exploded, violently, but allowed himself to be
+led unresisting from the room.
+
+William finished his bed-making with his usual frown of concentration,
+then, lying down, fell at once into the deep sleep of childish
+innocence.
+
+But Cousin Mildred was lying awake, a blissful smile upon her lips.
+She, too, was now one of the elect, the chosen. Her rather deaf ears
+had caught the sound of supernatural thunder as her ghostly visitant
+departed, and she had beamed with ecstatic joy.
+
+"Honk," she murmured, dreamily. "Honk, Yonk, Ponk."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+William felt rather tired the next evening. Cousin Mildred had
+departed leaving him a handsome present of a large box of chocolates.
+William had consumed these with undue haste in view of possible
+maternal interference. His broken night was telling upon his spirits.
+He felt distinctly depressed and saw the world through jaundiced
+eyes. He sat in the shrubbery, his chin in his hand, staring moodily
+at the adoring mongrel, Jumble.
+
+"It's a rotten world," he said, gloomily. "I've took a lot of trouble
+over her and she goes and makes me feel sick with chocolates."
+
+Jumble wagged his tail, sympathetically.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+THE MAY KING
+
+
+William was frankly bored. School always bored him. He disliked facts,
+and he disliked being tied down to detail, and he disliked answering
+questions. As a politician a great future would have lain before him.
+William attended a mixed school because his parents hoped that
+feminine influence might have a mellowing effect upon his character.
+As yet the mellowing was not apparent. He was roused from his
+day-dreams by a change in the voice of Miss Dewhurst, his form
+mistress. It was evident that she was not talking about the exports of
+England (a subject in which William took little interest) any longer.
+
+"Children," she said brightly. "I want to have a little May Queen for
+the first of May. The rest of you must be her courtiers. I want you
+all to vote to-morrow. Put down on a piece of paper the name of the
+little girl you think would make the sweetest little Queen, and the
+rest of you shall be her swains and maidens."
+
+"We're goin' to have a May Queen," remarked William to his family at
+dinner, "an' I'm goin' to be a swain."
+
+His interest died down considerably when he discovered the meaning of
+the word swain.
+
+"Isn't it no sort of animal at all?" he asked indignantly.
+
+"Well, I'm not going to be in it, then," he said when he heard that it
+was not.
+
+The next morning Evangeline Fish began to canvass for votes
+methodically. Evangeline Fish was very fair, and was dressed always in
+that shade of blue that shrieks aloud to the heavens and puts the
+skies to shame. She was considered the beauty of the form.
+
+"I'll give you two bull's eyes if you'll vote for me," she said to
+William.
+
+"_Two!_" said William with scorn.
+
+"Six," she bargained.
+
+"All right," he said, "you can give me six bull's eyes if you want.
+There's nothing to stop you givin' me six bull's eyes if you want, is
+there? Not that I know of."
+
+"But you'll have to promise to put down my name on the paper if I give
+you six bull's eyes," she said suspiciously.
+
+"All right," said William. "I can easy promise that."
+
+Whereupon she handed over the six bull's eyes. William returned one as
+being under regulation size, and waited frowning till she replaced it
+by a larger one.
+
+"Now, you've promised," said Evangeline Fish. "They'll make you ill
+an' die if you break your promise on them."
+
+William kept his promise with true political address. He wrote "E.
+Fish--I _don't_ think!" on his voting paper and his vote was
+disqualified. But Evangeline Fish was elected May Queen by an
+overwhelming majority. She was, after all, the beauty of the form and
+she always wore blue. And now she was to be May Queen. Her prestige
+was established for ever. "Little angel," murmured the elder girls.
+The small boys fought for her favours. William began to dislike her
+intensely. Her voice, and her smile, and her ringlets, and her blue
+dress began to jar upon his nerves. And when anything began to jar on
+William's nerves something always happened.
+
+It was not till about a week later that he noticed Bettine Franklin.
+Bettine was small and dark. There was nothing "angelic" about her.
+William had noticed her vaguely in school before and had hardly looked
+upon her as a distinct personality. But one recreation in the
+playground he stood leaning against the wall by himself, scowling at
+Evangeline Fish. She was surrounded by a crowd of admirers, and was
+prattling to them artlessly in her angelic voice.
+
+"I'm going to be dressed in white muslin with a blue sash. Blue suits
+me, you know. I'm so fair." She tossed back a ringlet. "One of you
+will have to hold my train and the rest must dance round me. I'm
+going to have a crown and--" She turned round in order to avoid the
+scowling gaze of William in the distance. William had discovered that
+his scowl annoyed her, and since then had given it little rest. But
+there was no satisfaction in scowling at the back of her well-curled
+head, so he relaxed his scowl and let his gaze wander round the
+playground. And it fell upon Bettine. Bettine was also standing by
+herself and gazing at Evangeline Fish. But she was not scowling. She
+was looking at Evangeline Fish with wistful envy. For Evangeline Fish
+was "angelic" and a May Queen, and she was neither of these things.
+William strolled over and lolled against the wall next to her.
+
+"'Ullo!" he said, without looking at her, for this change of position
+had brought him again within range of Evangeline Fish's eye, and he
+was once more simply one concentrated scowl.
+
+"'Ullo," murmured Bettine shyly and politely.
+
+"You like pink rock?" was William's next effort.
+
+"Um," said Bettine, nodding emphatically.
+
+"I'll give you some next time I buy some," said William munificently,
+"but I shan't be buying any for a long time," he added bitterly,
+"'cause an ole ball slipped out my hands on to our dining-room window
+before I noticed it yesterday."
+
+She nodded understandingly.
+
+"I don't mind!" she said sweetly. "I'll like you jus' as much if you
+don't ever give me any rock."
+
+William blushed.
+
+"I di'n't know you liked me," he said.
+
+"I do," she said fervently. "I like your face an' I like the things
+you say."
+
+William had forgotten to scowl. He was one flaming mixture of
+embarrassment and delight. He plunged his hands into his pockets and
+brought out two marbles, a piece of clay, and a broken toy gun.
+
+"You can have 'em all," he said in reckless generosity.
+
+"You keep 'em for me," said Bettine sweetly.
+
+"I hope you dance next me at the Maypole when Evangeline's Queen.
+Won't it be lovely?" and she sighed.
+
+"Lovely?" exploded William. "Huh!"
+
+"Won't you like it?" said Bettine wonderingly.
+
+"_Me!_" exploded William again. "Dancin' round a pole! Round that ole
+girl?"
+
+"But she's so pretty."
+
+"No, she isn't," said William firmly, "she jus' isn't. Not _much_! I
+don' like her narsy shiny hair an' I don' like her narsy blue clothes,
+an' I don' like her narsy face, an' I don' like her narsy white shoes,
+nor her narsy necklaces, nor her narsy squeaky voice----"
+
+He paused.
+
+Bettine drew a deep breath.
+
+"Go on some more," she said. "I _like_ listening to you."
+
+"Do _you_ like her?" said William.
+
+"No. She's awful _greedy_. Did you know she was awful _greedy_?"
+
+"I can _b'lieve_ it," said William. "I can b'lieve _anything_ of
+anyone wot talks in that squeaky voice."
+
+"Jus' watch her when she's eatin' cakes--she goes on eatin' and eatin'
+and eatin'."
+
+"She'll bust an' die one day then," prophesied William solemnly, "an'
+_I_ shan't be sorry."
+
+"But she'll look ever so beautiful when she's a May Queen."
+
+"You'd look nicer," said William.
+
+Bettine's small pale face flamed.
+
+"Oh _no_," she said.
+
+"Would you like to be a May Queen?"
+
+"Oh, _yes_," she said.
+
+"Um," said William, and returned to the discomfiture of Evangeline
+Fish by his steady concentrated scowl.
+
+The next day he had the opportunity of watching her eating cakes. They
+met at the birthday party of a mutual classmate, and Evangeline Fish
+took her stand by the table and consumed cakes with a perseverance and
+determination worthy of a nobler cause. William accorded her a certain
+grudging admiration. Not once did she falter or faint. Iced cakes,
+cream cakes, pastries melted away before her and never did she lose
+her ethereal angelic appearance. Tight golden ringlets, blue eyes,
+faintly flushed cheeks, vivid pale blue dress remained immaculate and
+unruffled, and still she ate cakes. William watched her in amazement,
+forgetting even to scowl at her. Her capacity for cakes exceeded even
+William's, and his was no mean one.
+
+They had a rehearsal of the Maypole dance and crowning the next day.
+
+[Illustration: WILLIAM ACCORDED HER A CERTAIN GRUDGING ADMIRATION.
+ICED CAKES, CREAM CAKES, PASTRIES MELTED AWAY BEFORE HER.]
+
+"I want William Brown to hold the queen's train," said Miss Dewhurst.
+
+"_Me?_" ejaculated William in horror. "D'you mean _me_?"
+
+"Yes, dear. It's a great honour to be asked to hold little Queen
+Evangeline's train. I'm sure you feel very proud. You must be her
+little courtier."
+
+"Huh!" said William, transferring his scowl to Miss Dewhurst.
+
+Evangeline beamed. She wanted William's admiration. William was the
+only boy in the form who was not her slave. She smiled at William
+sweetly.
+
+"I'm not _good_ at holdin' trains," said William. "I don't _like_
+holdin' trains. I've never bin _taught_ 'bout holdin' trains. I might
+do it wrong on the day an' spoil it all. I shan't like to spoil it
+all," he added virtuously.
+
+"Oh, we'll have heaps of practices," said Miss Dewhurst brightly.
+
+As he was going Bettine pressed a small apple into his hand.
+
+"A present for you," she murmured. "I saved it from my dinner."
+
+He was touched.
+
+"I'll give you somethin' to-morrow," he said, adding hastily, "if I
+can find anythin'."
+
+They stood in silence till he had finished his apple.
+
+"I've left a lot on the core," he said in a tone of unusual
+politeness, handing it to her, "would you like to finish it?"
+
+"No, thank you. William, you'll look so nice holding her train."
+
+"I don't want to, an' I bet I _won't_! You don't _know_ the things I
+can do," he said darkly.
+
+"Oh, William!" she gasped in awe and admiration.
+
+"I'd hold your train if you was goin' to be queen," he volunteered.
+
+"I wouldn't want you to hold my train," she said earnestly.
+"I'd--I'd--I'd want you to be May King with me."
+
+"Yes. Why don't they have May Kings?" said William, stung by this
+insult to his sex.
+
+"Why shouldn't there be a May King?"
+
+"I speck they _do_, really, only p'raps Miss Dewhurst doesn't know
+abut it."
+
+"Well, it doesn't seem sense not having May Kings, does it? I wun't
+mind bein' May King if you was May Queen."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The rehearsal was, on the whole, a failure.
+
+"William Brown, don't hold the train so high. No, not quite so low.
+Don't stand so near the Queen, William Brown. No, not so far
+away--you'll pull the train off. Walk when the Queen walks, William
+Brown, don't stand still. Sing up, please, train bearer. No, not quite
+so loud. That's deafening and not melodious."
+
+In the end he was degraded from the position of train-bearer to that
+of ordinary "swain." The "swains" were to be dressed in smocks and the
+"maidens" in print dresses, and the Maypole dance was to be performed
+round Evangeline Fish, who was to stand in queenly attire by the pole
+in the middle. All the village was to be invited.
+
+At the end of the rehearsal William came upon Bettine, once more
+gazing wistfully at Evangeline Fish, who was coquetting (with many
+tosses of the fair ringlets) before a crowd of admirers.
+
+"Isn't it lovely for her to be May Queen?" said Bettine.
+
+"She's a rotten one," said William. "I'm jolly glad _I've_ not to hold
+up her rotten ole train an' listen to her narsy squeaky voice singin'
+close to, an' I'll give you a present to-morrow."
+
+He did. He found a centipede in the garden and pressed it into her
+hand on the way to school.
+
+"They're jolly int'restin'," he said. "Put it in a match-box and make
+holes for its breath and it'll live ever so long. It won't bite you if
+you hold it the right way."
+
+And because she loved William she took it without even a shudder.
+
+Evangeline Fish began to pursue William. She grudged him bitterly to
+Bettine. She pirouetted near him in her sky-blue garments, she tossed
+her ringlets about him. She ogled him with her pale blue eyes.
+
+And in the long school hours during which he dreamed at his desk, or
+played games with his friends, while highly-paid instructors poured
+forth their wisdom for his benefit, William evolved a plan.
+Unfortunately, like most plans, it required capital, and William had
+no capital. Occasionally William's elder brother Robert would supply
+a few shillings without inconvenient questions, but it happened that
+Robert was ignoring William's existence at that time. For Robert had
+(not for the first time) discovered his Ideal, and the Ideal had been
+asked to lunch the previous week. For days before Robert had made
+William's life miserable. He had objected to William's unbrushed hair
+and unmanicured hands, and untidy person, and noisy habits. He had
+bitterly demanded what She would think on being asked to a house where
+she might meet such an individual as William; he had insisted that
+William should be taught habits of cleanliness and silence before She
+came; he had hinted darkly that a man who had William for a brother
+was hampered considerably in his love affairs because She would think
+it was a queer kind of family where anyone like William was allowed to
+grow up. He had reserved some of his fervour for the cook. She must
+have a proper lunch--not stews and stuff they often had--there must be
+three vegetables and there must be cheese straws. Cook must learn to
+make better cheese straws. And William, having swallowed insults for
+three whole days, planned vengeance. It was a vengeance which only
+William could have planned or carried out. For only William could have
+seized a moment just before lunch when the meal was dished up and cook
+happened to be out of the kitchen to carry the principal dishes down
+to the coal cellar and conceal them beneath the best nuts.
+
+It is well to draw a veil over the next half-hour. Both William and
+the meal had vanished. Robert tore his hair and appealed vainly to the
+heavens. He hinted darkly at suicide. For what is cold tongue and
+coffee to offer to an Ideal? The meal was discovered during the
+afternoon in its resting-place and given to William's mongrel, Jumble,
+who crept about during the next few days in agonies of indigestion.
+Robert had bitterly demanded of William why he went about the world
+spoiling people's lives and ruining their happiness. He had implied
+that when William met with the One and Only Love of his Life he need
+look for no help or assistance from him (Robert), because he (William)
+had dashed to the ground his (Robert's) cup of happiness, because he'd
+never in his life met anyone before like Miss Laing, and never would
+again, and he (William) had simply condemned him to a lonely and
+miserable old age, because who'd want to marry anyone that asked them
+to lunch and then gave them coffee and cold tongue, and he'd never
+want to marry anyone else, because it was the One and Only Love of his
+Life, and he hoped he (William) would realise, when he was old enough
+to realise, what it meant to have your life spoilt and your happiness
+ruined all through coffee and tongue, because someone you'd never
+speak to again had hidden the lunch. Whence it came that William,
+optimist though he was, felt that any appeal to Robert for funds would
+be inopportune, to say the least of it.
+
+But Providence was on William's side for once. An old uncle came to
+tea and gave William five shillings.
+
+"Going to dance at a Maypole, I hear?" he chuckled.
+
+"P'raps," was all William said.
+
+His family were relieved by his meekness with regard to the May Day
+festival. Sometimes William made such a foolish fuss about being
+dressed up and performing in public.
+
+"You know, dear," said his mother, "it's a dear old festival, and
+quite an honour to take part in it, and a smock is quite a nice manly
+garment."
+
+"Yes, Mother," said William.
+
+The day was fine--a real May Day. The Maypole was fixed up in the
+field near the school, and the little performers were to change in the
+schoolroom.
+
+William went out with his brown paper parcel of stage properties under
+his arm and stood gazing up the road by which Evangeline Fish must
+come to the school. For Evangeline Fish would have to pass his gate.
+Soon he saw her, her pale blue radiant in the sun.
+
+"'Ullo!" he greeted her.
+
+She simpered. She had won him at last.
+
+"Waitin' to walk to the school with me, William?" she said.
+
+He still loitered.
+
+"You're awful early."
+
+"Am I? I thought I was late. I meant to be late. I don't want to be
+too early. I'm the most 'portant person, and I want to walk in after
+the others, then they'll all look at me."
+
+She tossed her tightly-wrought curls.
+
+"Come into our ole shed a minute," said William. "I've got a present
+for you."
+
+She blushed and ogled.
+
+"Oh, _William_!" she said, and followed him into the wood-shed.
+
+"Look!" he said.
+
+[Illustration: "HAVE A LOT," SAID WILLIAM. "THEY'RE ALL FOR YOU. GO
+ON. EAT 'EM ALL. YOU CAN EAT AN' EAT AN' EAT."]
+
+His uncle's five shillings had been well expended. Rows of cakes lay
+round the shed, pastries, and sugar cakes, and iced cakes, and currant
+cakes.
+
+"Have a lot," said William. "They're all for you. Go on! Eat 'em all.
+You can eat an' eat an' eat. There's lots an' lots of time and they
+can't begin without you, can they?"
+
+"Oh, _William_!" she said.
+
+She gloated over them.
+
+"Oh, may I?"
+
+"There's heaps of time," said William. "Go on! Eat them all!"
+
+Her greedy little eyes seemed to stand out of her head.
+
+"Oo!" she said in rapture.
+
+She sat down on the floor and began to eat, lost to everything but
+icing and currants and pastry. William made for the door, then he
+paused, gazed wistfully at the feast, stepped back, and, grabbing a
+cream bun in each hand, crept quietly away.
+
+Bettine in her print frock was at the door of the school.
+
+"Hurry up!" she said anxiously. "You're going to be late. The others
+are all out. They're waiting to begin. Miss Dewhurst's out there.
+They're all come but you an' the Queen. I stayed 'cause you asked me
+to stay to help you."
+
+He came in and shut the door.
+
+"You're goin' to be May Queen," he announced firmly.
+
+"_Me?_" she said in amazement.
+
+"Yes. An' I'm goin' to be King."
+
+He unwrapped his parcel.
+
+"Look!" he said.
+
+He had ransacked his sister's bedroom. Once Ethel had been to a fancy
+dress dance as a Fairy. Over Bettine's print frock he drew a crumpled
+gauze slip with wings, torn in several places. On her brow he placed a
+tinsel crown at a rakish angle. And she quivered with happiness.
+
+"Oh, how lovely!" she said. "How lovely! How lovely!"
+
+His own preparations were simpler. He tied a red sash that he had
+taken off his sister's hat over his right shoulder and under his left
+arm on the top of his smock. Someone had once given him a small 'bus
+conductor's cap with a toy set of tickets and clippers. He placed the
+cap upon his head with its peak over one eye. It was the only official
+headgear he had been able to procure. Then he took a piece of burnt
+cork from his parcel and solemnly drew a fierce and military moustache
+upon his cheek and lip. To William no kind of theatricals was complete
+without a corked moustache.
+
+Then he took Bettine by the hand and led her out to the Maypole.
+
+The dancers were all waiting holding the ribbons. The audience was
+assembled and a murmur of conversation was rising from it. It ceased
+abruptly as William and Bettine appeared. William's father, mother and
+sister were in the front row. Robert was not there. Robert had
+declined to come to anything in which that little wretch was to
+perform. He'd jolly well had enough of that little wretch to last his
+lifetime, thank you very much.
+
+[Illustration: WILLIAM AND BETTINE STEPPED SOLEMNLY HAND IN HAND UPON
+THE LITTLE PLATFORM WHICH HAD BEEN PROVIDED FOR THE MAY QUEEN.]
+
+William and Bettine stepped solemnly hand in hand upon the little
+platform which had been provided for the May Queen.
+
+Miss Dewhurst, who was chatting amicably to the parents till the last
+of her small performers should appear, seemed suddenly turned to
+stone, with mouth gaping and eyes wide. The old fiddler, who was
+rather short-sighted, struck up the strains, and the dancers began to
+dance. The audience relaxed, leaning back in their chairs to enjoy the
+scene. Miss Dewhurst was still frozen. There were murmured comments.
+"How curious to have that boy there! A sort of attendant, I suppose."
+
+"Yes, perhaps he's something allegorical. A sort of pageant. Good Luck
+or something. It's not quite the sort of thing I expected, I must
+admit."
+
+"What do you think of the Queen's dress? I always thought Miss
+Dewhurst had better taste. Rather tawdry, I call it."
+
+"I think the moustache is a mistake. It gives quite a common look to
+the whole thing. I wonder who he's meant to be? Pan, do you think?"
+uncertainly.
+
+"Oh, no, nothing so _pagan_, I hope," said an elderly matron,
+horrified. "He's that Brown boy, you know. There always seems to be
+something queer about anything he's in. I've noticed it often. But I
+_hope_ he's meant to be something more Christian than Pan, though one
+never knows in these days," she added darkly.
+
+William's sister had recognised her possessions, and was gasping in
+anger.
+
+William's father, who knew William, was smiling sardonically.
+
+William's mother was smiling proudly.
+
+"You're always running down William," she said to the world in
+general, "but look at him now. He's got a very important part, and he
+said nothing about it at home. I call it very nice and modest of him.
+And what a dear little girl."
+
+Bettine, standing on the platform with William's hand holding hers and
+the Maypole dancers dancing round her, was radiant with pride and
+happiness.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+And Evangeline Fish in the wood-shed was just beginning the last
+currant cake.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+THE REVENGE
+
+
+William was a scout. The fact was well known. There was no one within
+a five-mile radius of William's home who did not know it. Sensitive
+old ladies had fled shuddering from their front windows when William
+marched down the street singing (the word is a euphemism) his scout
+songs in his strong young voice. Curious smells emanated from the
+depth of the garden where William performed mysterious culinary
+operations. One old lady whose cat had disappeared looked at William
+with dour suspicion in her eye whenever he passed. Even the return of
+her cat a few weeks later did not remove the hostility from her gaze
+whenever it happened to rest upon William.
+
+William's family had welcomed the suggestion of William's becoming a
+scout.
+
+"It will keep him out of mischief," they had said.
+
+They were notoriously optimistic where William was concerned.
+
+William's elder brother only was doubtful.
+
+"You know what William is," he said, and in that dark saying much was
+contained.
+
+Things went fairly smoothly for some time. He took the scouts' law of
+a daily deed of kindness in its most literal sense. He was to do one
+(and one only) deed of kindness a day. There were times when he forced
+complete strangers, much to their embarrassment, to be the unwilling
+recipients of his deed of kindness. There were times when he answered
+any demand for help with a cold: "No, I've done it to-day."
+
+He received with saint-like patience the eloquence of his elder sister
+when she found her silk scarf tied into innumerable knots.
+
+"Well, they're jolly _good_ knots," was all he said.
+
+He had been looking forward to the holidays for a long time. He was to
+"go under canvas" at the end of the first week.
+
+The first day of the holidays began badly. William's father had been
+disturbed by William, whose room was just above and who had spent most
+of the night performing gymnastics as instructed by his scout-master.
+
+"No, he didn't _say_ do it at nights, but he said do it. He said it
+would make us grow up strong men. Don't you _want_ me to grow up a
+strong man? He's ever so strong an' _he_ did 'em. Why shun't I?"
+
+His mother found a pan with the bottom burnt out and at once accused
+William of the crime. William could not deny it.
+
+"Well, I was makin' sumthin', sumthin' he'd told us an' I forgot it.
+Well, I've _got_ to make things if I'm a scout. I didn't _mean_ to
+forget it. I won't forget it next time. It's a rotten pan, anyway, to
+burn itself into a hole jus' for that."
+
+At this point William's father received a note from a neighbour whose
+garden adjoined William's and whose life had been rendered intolerable
+by William's efforts upon his bugle.
+
+The bugle was confiscated.
+
+Darkness descended upon William's soul.
+
+"Well," he muttered, "I'm goin' under canvas next week an' I'm jolly
+_glad_ I'm goin'. P'r'aps you'll be sorry when I'm gone."
+
+He went out into the garden and stood gazing moodily into space, his
+hands in the pocket of his short scout trousers, for William dressed
+on any and every occasion in his official costume.
+
+"Can't even have the bugle," he complained to the landscape. "Can't
+even use their rotten ole pans. Can't tie knots in any of their ole
+things. Wot's the good of _bein'_ a scout?"
+
+His indignation grew and with it a desire to be avenged upon his
+family.
+
+"I'd like to _do_ somethin'," he confided to a rose bush with a
+ferocious scowl. "Somethin' jus' to show 'em."
+
+Then his face brightened. He had an idea.
+
+He'd get lost. He'd get really lost. They'd be sorry then alright.
+They'd p'r'aps think he was dead and they'd be sorry then alright. He
+imagined their relief, their tearful apologies when at last he
+returned to the bosom of his family. It was worth trying, anyway.
+
+He set off cheerfully down the drive. He decided to stay away for
+lunch and tea and supper, and to return at dusk to a penitent,
+conscience-stricken family.
+
+He first made his way to a neighbouring wood, where he arranged a pile
+of twigs for a fire, but they refused to light, even with the aid of
+the match that William found adhering to a piece of putty in the
+recess of one of his pockets.
+
+Slightly dispirited, he turned his attention to his handkerchief and
+tied knots in it till it gave way under the strain. William's
+handkerchiefs, being regularly used to perform the functions of
+blotting paper among other duties not generally entrusted to
+handkerchiefs, were always in the last stages of decrepitude.
+
+He felt rather bored and began to wonder whether it was lunch-time or
+not.
+
+He then "scouted" the wood and by his wood lore traced three distinct
+savage tribes' passage through the wood and found the tracks of
+several elephants. He engaged in deadly warfare with about
+half-a-dozen lions, then tired of the sport. It must be about
+lunch-time. He could imagine Ethel, his sister, hunting for him wildly
+high and low with growing pangs of remorse. She'd wish she'd made less
+fuss over that old scarf. His mother would recall the scene over the
+pan and her heart would fail her. His father would think with shame
+of his conduct in the matter of the bugle.
+
+"Poor William! How cruel we were! How different we shall be if only he
+comes home ...!"
+
+He could almost hear the words. Perhaps his mother was weeping now.
+His father--wild-eyed and white-lipped--was pacing his study, waiting
+for news, eager to atone for his unkindness to his missing son.
+Perhaps he had the bugle on the table ready to give back to him.
+Perhaps he'd even bought him a new one.
+
+He imagined the scene of his return. He would be nobly forgiving. He
+would accept the gift of the new bugle without a word of reproach. His
+heart thrilled at the thought of it.
+
+He was getting jolly hungry. It must be after lunch-time. But it would
+spoil it all to go home too early.
+
+Here he caught sight of a minute figure regarding him with a steady
+gaze and holding a paper bag in one hand.
+
+William stared down at him.
+
+"Wot you dressed up like that for?" said the apparition, with a touch
+of scorn in his voice.
+
+William looked down at his sacred uniform and scowled. "I'm a scout,"
+he said loftily.
+
+"'Cout?" repeated the apparition, with an air of polite boredom.
+"Wot's your name?"
+
+"William."
+
+"Mine's Thomas. Will you catch me a wopse? Look at my wopses!"
+
+He opened the bag slightly and William caught sight of a crowd of
+wasps buzzing about inside the bag.
+
+"Want more," demanded the infant. "Want lots more. Look. Snells!"
+
+He brought out a handful of snails from a miniature pocket, and put
+them on the ground.
+
+"Watch 'em put their horns out! Watch 'em walk. Look! They're
+_walkin'_. They're _walkin'_."
+
+His voice was a scream of ecstasy. He took them up and returned them
+to their pocket. From another he drew out a wriggling mass.
+
+"Wood-lice!" he explained, casually. "Got worms in 'nother pocket."
+
+He returned the wood-lice to his pocket except one, which he held
+between a finger and thumb laid thoughtfully against his lip. "Want
+wopses now. You get 'em for me."
+
+William roused himself from his bewilderment.
+
+"How--how do you catch 'em?" he said.
+
+"Wings," replied Thomas. "Get hold of their wings an' they don't
+sting. Sometimes they do, though," he added casually. "Then your hands
+go big."
+
+A wasp settled near him, and very neatly the young naturalist picked
+him up and put him in his paper prison.
+
+"Now you get one," he ordered William.
+
+William determined not to be outshone by this minute but dauntless
+stranger. As a wasp obligingly settled on a flower near him, he put
+out his hand, only to withdraw it with a yell of pain and apply it to
+his mouth.
+
+"Oo--ou!" he said. "Crumbs!"
+
+Thomas emitted a peal of laughter.
+
+"You stung?" he said. "Did it sting you? _Funny_!"
+
+William's expression of rage and pain was exquisite to him.
+
+"Come on, boy!" he ordered at last. "Let's go somewhere else."
+
+William's bewildered dignity made a last stand.
+
+"_You_ can go," he said. "I'm playin' by myself."
+
+"All right!" agreed Thomas. "You play by you'self an' me play by
+myself, an' we'll be together--playin' by ourselves."
+
+He set off down a path, and meekly William followed.
+
+It must be jolly late--almost tea-time.
+
+"I'm hungry," said Thomas suddenly. "Give me some brekfust."
+
+"I haven't got any," said William irritably.
+
+"Well, find some," persisted the infant.
+
+"I can't. There isn't any to find."
+
+"Well, buy some!"
+
+"I haven't any money."
+
+"Well, buy some money."
+
+Goaded, William turned on him.
+
+"Go away!" he bellowed.
+
+Thomas's blue eyes, beneath a mop of curls, met his coldly.
+
+"Don't talk so loud," he said sternly. "There's some blackberries
+there. You can get me some blackberries."
+
+William began to walk away, but Thomas trotted by his side.
+
+"There!" he persisted. "Jus' where I'm pointing. Lovely great big suge
+ones. Get 'em for my brekfust."
+
+Reluctantly the scout turned to perform his deed of kindness.
+
+Thomas consumed blackberries faster than William could gather them.
+
+"Up there," he commanded. "No, the one right up there I want. I want
+it _kick_. I've etten all the others."
+
+William was scratched and breathless, and his shirt was torn when at
+last the rapacious Thomas was satisfied. Then he partook of a little
+refreshment himself, while Thomas turned out his pockets.
+
+"I'll let 'em go now," he said.
+
+One of his wood-lice, however, stayed motionless where he put it.
+
+"Wot's the matter with it?" said William, curiously.
+
+"I 'speck me's the matter wif it," said Thomas succinctly. "Now, get
+me some lickle fishes, an' tadpoles an' water sings," he went on
+cheerfully.
+
+William turned round from his blackberry-bush.
+
+"Well, I won't," he said decidedly. "I've had enough!"
+
+"You've had 'nuff brekfust," said Thomas sternly. "I've found a
+lickle tin for the sings, so be _kick_. Oo, here's a fly! A green fly!
+It's sittin' on my finger. Does it like me 'cause it's sittin' on my
+finger?"
+
+"No," said William, turning a purple-stained countenance round
+scornfully.
+
+It must be nearly night. He didn't want to be too hard on them, to
+make his mother ill or anything. He wanted to be as kind as possible.
+He'd forgive them at once when he got home. He'd ask for one or two
+things he wanted, as well as the new bugle. A new penknife, and an
+engine with a real boiler.
+
+"Waffor does it not like me?" persisted Thomas.
+
+William was silent. Question and questioner were beneath contempt.
+
+"Waffor does it not like me?" he shouted stridently.
+
+"Flies don't like people, silly."
+
+"Waffor not?" retorted Thomas.
+
+"They don't know anything about them."
+
+"Well, I'll _tell_ it about me. My name's Thomas," he said to the fly
+politely. "Now does it like me?"
+
+William groaned. But the fly had now vanished, and Thomas once more
+grew impatient.
+
+"Come _on_!" he said. "Come on an' find sings for me."
+
+William's manly spirit was by this time so far broken that he followed
+his new acquaintance to a neighbouring pond, growling threateningly
+but impotently.
+
+"Now," commanded his small tyrant, "take off your boots an' stockings
+an' go an' find things for me."
+
+"Take off yours," growled William, "an' find things for yourself."
+
+"No," said Thomas, "crockerdiles might be there an' bite my toes. An
+pittanopotamuses might be there. If you don't go in, I'll scream an'
+scream an' _scream_."
+
+William went in.
+
+He walked gingerly about the muddy pond. Thomas watched him critically
+from the bank.
+
+"I don't like your _hair_," he said confidingly.
+
+William growled.
+
+He caught various small swimming objects in the tin, and brought them
+to the bank for inspection.
+
+"I want more'n that," said Thomas calmly.
+
+"Well, you won't _get_ it," retorted William.
+
+He began to put on his boots and stockings, wondering desperately how
+to rid himself of his unwanted companion. But Fate solved the problem.
+With a loud cry a woman came running down the path.
+
+"Tommy," she said. "My little darling Tommy. I thought you were lost!"
+She turned furiously to William. "You ought to be ashamed of
+yourself," she said. "A great boy of your age leading a little child
+like this into mischief! If his father was here, he'd show you. You
+ought to know better! And you a scout."
+
+William gasped.
+
+[Illustration: SHE TURNED FURIOUSLY TO WILLIAM. "YOU OUGHT TO BE
+ASHAMED OF YOURSELF," SHE SAID.]
+
+"Well!" he said. "An' I've bin doin' deeds of kindness on him all
+morning. I've----"
+
+She turned away indignantly, holding Thomas's hand.
+
+"You're never to go with that nasty rough boy again, darling," she
+said.
+
+"Got lots of wopses an' some fishes," murmured Thomas contentedly.
+
+They disappeared down the path. With a feeling of depression and
+disillusionment William turned to go home.
+
+Then his spirits rose. After all, he'd got rid of Thomas, and he was
+going home to a contrite family. It must be about supper-time. It
+would be getting dark soon. But it still stayed light a long time now.
+It wouldn't matter if he just got in for supper. It would have given
+them time to think things over. He could see his father speaking
+unsteadily, and holding out his hand.
+
+"My boy ... let bygones be bygones ... if there is anything you
+want...."
+
+His father had never said anything of this sort to him yet, but, by a
+violent stretch of imagination, he could just conceive it.
+
+His mother, of course, would cry over him, and so would Ethel.
+
+"Dear William ... do forgive us ... we have been so miserable since
+you went away ... we will never treat you so again."
+
+This again was unlike the Ethel he knew, but sorrow has a refining
+effect on all characters.
+
+He entered the gate self-consciously. Ethel was at the front-door. She
+looked at his torn shirt and mud-caked knees.
+
+"You'd better hurry if you're going to be ready for lunch," she said
+coldly.
+
+"Lunch?" faltered William. "What time is it?"
+
+"Ten to one. Father's in, so I warn you," she added unpleasantly.
+
+He entered the house in a dazed fashion. His mother was in the hall.
+
+"_William!_" she said impatiently. "Another shirt torn! You really are
+careless. You'll have to stop being a scout if that's the way you
+treat your clothes. And _look_ at your knees!"
+
+Pale and speechless, he went towards the stairs. His father was coming
+out of the library smoking a pipe. He looked at his son grimly.
+
+"If you aren't downstairs _cleaned_ by the time the lunch-bell goes,
+my son," he said, "you won't see that bugle of yours this side of
+Christmas."
+
+William swallowed.
+
+"Yes, father," he said meekly.
+
+He went slowly upstairs to the bathroom.
+
+Life was a rotten show.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+THE HELPER
+
+
+The excitement began at breakfast. William descended slightly late,
+and, after receiving his parents' reproaches with an air of weary
+boredom, ate his porridge listlessly. He had come to the conclusion
+that morning that there was a certain monotonous sameness about life.
+One got up, and had one's breakfast, and went to school, and had one's
+dinner, and went to school, and had one's tea, and played, and had
+one's supper, and went to bed. Even the fact that to-day was a
+half-term holiday did not dispel his depression. _One_ day's holiday!
+What good was _one_ day? We all have experienced such feelings.
+
+Half abstractedly he began to listen to his elders' conversation.
+
+"They promised to be here by _nine_," his mother was saying. "I do
+hope they won't be late!"
+
+"Well, it's not much good their coming if the other house isn't ready,
+is it?" said William's grown-up sister Ethel. "I don't believe they've
+even finished _painting_!"
+
+"I'm so sorry it's William's half-term holiday," sighed Mrs. Brown.
+"He'll be frightfully in the way."
+
+William's outlook on life brightened considerably.
+
+"They comin' removin' this _morning_?" he inquired cheerfully.
+
+"Yes, DO try not to hinder them, William."
+
+"_Me_?" he said indignantly. "I'm goin' to _help_!"
+
+"If William's going to help," remarked his father, "thank Heaven _I_
+shan't be here. Your assistance, William, always seems to be even more
+devastating in its results than your opposition!"
+
+William smiled politely. Sarcasm was always wasted on William.
+
+"Well," he said, rising from the table, "I'd better go an' be gettin'
+ready to help."
+
+Ten minutes later Mrs. Brown, coming out of the kitchen from her
+interview with the cook, found to her amazement that the steps of the
+front door were covered with small ornaments. As she stood staring
+William appeared from the drawing-room staggering under the weight of
+a priceless little statuette that had been the property of Mr. Brown's
+great grandfather.
+
+"WILLIAM!" she gasped.
+
+"I'm gettin' all the little things ready for 'em jus' to carry
+straight down. If I put everything on the steps they don't need come
+into the house at all. You _said_ you didn't want 'em trampin' in
+dirty boots!"
+
+It took a quarter of an hour to replace them. Over the fragments of a
+blue delf bowl Mrs. Brown sighed deeply.
+
+"I wish you'd broken _anything_ but this, William."
+
+"Well," he excused himself, "you said things _do_ get broken removin'.
+You said so _yourself_! I didn't break it on purpose. It jus' got
+broken removin'."
+
+At this point the removers arrived.
+
+There were three of them. One was very fat and jovial, and one was
+thin and harassed-looking, and a third wore a sheepish smile and
+walked with a slightly unsteady gait. They made profuse apologies for
+their lateness.
+
+"You'd better begin with the dining-room," said Mrs. Brown. "Will you
+pack the china first? William, get out of the _way_!"
+
+She left them packing, assisted by William. William carried the things
+to them from the sideboard cupboards.
+
+"What's your names?" he asked, as he stumbled over a glass bowl that
+he had inadvertently left on the hearth-rug. His progress was further
+delayed while he conscientiously picked up the fragments. "Things _do_
+get broken removin'," he murmured.
+
+"Mine is Mister Blake and 'is is Mister Johnson, and 'is is Mister
+Jones."
+
+"Which is Mr. Jones? The one that walks funny?"
+
+They shook with herculean laughter, so much so that a china cream jug
+slipped from Mr. Blake's fingers and lay in innumerable pieces round
+his boot. He kicked it carelessly aside.
+
+"Yus," he said, bending anew to his task, "'im wot walks funny."
+
+"Why's he walk funny?" persisted William. "Has he hurt his legs?"
+
+"Yus," said Blake with a wink. "'E 'urt 'em at the Blue Cow comin'
+'ere."
+
+Mr. Jones' sheepish smile broadened into a guffaw.
+
+"Well, you rest," said William sympathetically. "You lie down on the
+sofa an' rest. _I'll_ help, so's you needn't do _anything_!"
+
+Mr. Jones grew hilarious.
+
+"Come on!" he said. "My eye! This young gent's all _roight_, 'e is.
+You lie down an' rest, 'e says! Well, 'ere goes!"
+
+To the huge delight of his companions, he stretched himself at length
+upon the chesterfield and closed his eyes. William surveyed him with
+pleasure.
+
+"That's right," he said. "I'll--I'll show you my dog when your legs
+are better. I've gotter _fine_ dog!"
+
+"What sort of a dog?" said Mr. Blake, resting from his labours to ask
+the question.
+
+"He's no _partic'lar_ sort of a dog," said William honestly, "but he's
+a jolly fine dog. You should see him do tricks!"
+
+[Illustration: WILLIAM SURVEYED HIM WITH PLEASURE. "I'LL SHOW YOU MY
+DOG WHEN YOUR LEGS ARE BETTER," HE SAID.]
+
+"Well, let's 'ave a look at 'im. Fetch 'im art."
+
+William, highly delighted, complied, and Jumble showed off his best
+tricks to an appreciative audience of two (Mr. Jones had already
+succumbed to the drowsiness that had long been creeping over him and
+was lying dead to the world on the chesterfield).
+
+Jumble begged for a biscuit, he walked (perforce, for William's hand
+firmly imprisoned his front ones) on his hind legs, he leapt over
+William's arm. He leapt into the very centre of an old Venetian glass
+that was on the floor by the packing-case and cut his foot slightly on
+a piece of it, but fortunately suffered no ill-effects.
+
+William saw consternation on Mr. Johnson's face and hastened to gather
+the pieces and fling them lightly into the waste-paper basket.
+
+"It's all right," he said soothingly. "She _said_ things get broken
+removin'."
+
+When Mrs. Brown entered the room ten minutes later, Mr. Jones was
+still asleep, Jumble was still performing, and Messrs. Blake and
+Johnson were standing in negligent attitudes against the wall
+appraising the eager Jumble with sportsmanlike eyes.
+
+"'E's no breed," Mr. Blake was saying, "but 'e's orl _roight_. I'd
+loik to see 'im arfter a rat. I bet 'e'd----"
+
+Seeing Mrs. Brown, he hastily seized a vase from the mantel-piece and
+carried it over to the packing case, where he appeared suddenly to be
+working against time. Mr. Johnson followed his example.
+
+Mrs. Brown's eyes fell upon Mr. Jones and she gasped.
+
+"Whatever--" she began.
+
+"'E's not very well 'm," explained Mr. Blake obsequiously. "'E'll be
+orl roight when 'e's slep' it orf. 'E's always orl roight when 'e's
+slep' 'it orf."
+
+"He's hurt his legs," explained William. "He hurt his legs at the Blue
+Cow. He's jus' _restin'_!"
+
+Mrs. Brown swallowed and counted twenty to herself. It was a practice
+she had acquired in her youth for use in times when words crowded upon
+her too thick and fast for utterance.
+
+At last she spoke with unusual bitterness.
+
+"Need he rest with his muddy boots on my chesterfield?"
+
+At this point Mr. Jones awoke from sleep, hypnotised out of it by her
+cold eye.
+
+He was profuse in his apologies. He believed he had fainted. He had
+had a bad headache, brought on probably by exposure to the early
+morning sun. He felt much better after his faint. He regretted having
+fainted on to the lady's sofa. He partially brushed off the traces of
+his dirty boots with an equally dirty hand.
+
+"You've done _nothing_ in this room," said Mrs. Brown. "We shall
+_never_ get finished. William, come away! I'm sure you're hindering
+them."
+
+"Me?" said William in righteous indignation. "_Me?_ I'm _helpin'_!"
+
+After what seemed to Mrs. Brown to be several hours they began on the
+heavy furniture. They staggered out with the dining-room sideboard,
+carrying away part of the staircase with it in transit. Mrs. Brown,
+with a paling face, saw her beloved antique cabinet dismembered
+against the doorpost, and watched her favourite collapsible card-table
+perform a thorough and permanent collapse. Even the hat-stand from the
+hall was devoid of some pegs when it finally reached the van.
+
+"This is simply breaking my heart," moaned Mrs. Brown.
+
+"Where's William?" said Ethel, gloomily, looking round.
+
+"'Sh! I don't know. He disappeared a few minutes ago. I don't know
+_where_ he is. I only hope he'll stay there!"
+
+The removers now proceeded to the drawing-room and prepared to take
+out the piano. They tried it every way. The first way took a piece out
+of the doorpost, the second made a dint two inches deep in the piano,
+the third knocked over the grandfather clock, which fell with a
+resounding crash, breaking its glass, and incidentally a tall china
+plant stand that happened to be in its line of descent.
+
+Mrs. Brown sat down and covered her face with her hands.
+
+"It's like some dreadful _nightmare_!" she groaned.
+
+Messrs. Blake, Johnson and Jones paused to wipe the sweat of honest
+toil from their brows.
+
+"I dunno _'ow_ it's to be got out," said Mr. Blake despairingly.
+
+"It got in!" persisted Mrs. Brown. "If it got in it can get out."
+
+"We'll 'ave another try," said Mr. Blake with the air of a hero
+leading a forlorn hope. "Come on, mites."
+
+This time was successful and the piano passed safely into the hall,
+leaving in its wake only a dislocated door handle and a torn chair
+cover. It then passed slowly and devastatingly down the hall and
+drive.
+
+The next difficulty was to get it into the van. Messrs. Blake, Johnson
+and Jones tried alone and failed. For ten minutes they tried alone and
+failed. Between each attempt they paused to mop their brows and throw
+longing glances towards the Blue Cow, whose signboard was visible down
+the road.
+
+The gardener, the cook, the housemaid, and Ethel all gave their
+assistance, and at last, with a superhuman effort, they raised it to
+the van.
+
+They then all rested weakly against the nearest support and gasped for
+breath.
+
+"Well," said Mr. Jones, looking reproachfully at the mistress of the
+house, "I've never 'andled a pianner----"
+
+At this moment a well-known voice was heard in the recesses of the
+van, behind the piano and sideboard and hat-stand.
+
+"Hey! let me out! What you've gone blockin' up the van for? I can't
+get out!"
+
+There was a horror-stricken silence. Then Ethel said sharply:
+
+"What did you go _in_ for?"
+
+The mysterious voice came again with a note of irritability.
+
+"Well, I was _restin'_. I mus' have some rest, mustn't I? I've been
+helpin' all mornin'."
+
+"Well, couldn't you _see_ we were putting things in?"
+
+The unseen presence spoke again.
+
+"No, I can't. I wasn't lookin'!"
+
+"You can't get out, William," said Mrs. Brown desperately. "We can't
+move everything again. You must just stop there till it's unpacked.
+We'll try to push your lunch in to you."
+
+There was determination in the voice that answered, "I want to get
+out! I'm _going_ to get out!"
+
+There came tumultuous sounds--the sound of the ripping of some
+material, of the smashing of glass and of William's voice softly
+ejaculating "Crumbs! that ole lookin' glass gettin' in the way!"
+
+"You'd better take out the piano again," said Mrs. Brown wanly. "It's
+the only thing to do."
+
+With straining, and efforts, and groans, and a certain amount of
+destruction, the piano was eventually lowered again to the ground.
+Then the sideboard and hat-stand were moved to one side, and finally
+there emerged from the struggle--William and Jumble. Jumble's coat was
+covered with little pieces of horsehair, as though from the interior
+of a chair. William's jersey was torn from shoulder to hem. He looked
+stern and indignant.
+
+[Illustration: WILLIAM'S JERSEY WAS TORN FROM SHOULDER TO HEM. HE
+LOOKED STERN AND INDIGNANT.]
+
+"A nice thing to do!" he began bitterly. "Shuttin' me up in that ole
+van. How d'you expect me to breathe, shut in with ole bits of
+furniture. Folks can't live without air, can they? A nice thing if
+you'd found me _dead_!"
+
+Emotion had deprived his audience of speech for the time being.
+
+With a certain amount of dignity he walked past them into the house
+followed by Jumble.
+
+It took another quarter of an hour to replace the piano. As they were
+making the final effort William came out of the house.
+
+"Here, _I'll_ help!" he said, and laid a finger on the side. His
+presence rather hindered their efforts, but they succeeded in spite of
+it. William, however, was under the impression that his strength alone
+had wrought the miracle. He put on an outrageous swagger.
+
+"I'm jolly strong," he confided to Mr. Blake. "I'm stronger than most
+folk."
+
+Here the removers decided that it was time for their midday repast and
+retired to consume it in the shady back garden. All except Mr. Jones,
+who said he would go down the road for a drink of lemonade. William
+said that there was lemonade in the larder and offered to fetch it,
+but Mr. Jones said hastily that he wanted a special sort. He had to be
+very particular what sort of lemonade he drank.
+
+Mrs. Brown and Ethel sat down to a scratch meal in the library.
+William followed his two new friends wistfully into the garden.
+
+"William! Come to lunch!" called Mrs. Brown.
+
+"Oh, leave him alone, Mother," pleaded Ethel. "Let us have a little
+peace."
+
+But William did not absent himself for long.
+
+"I want a red handkerchief," he demanded loudly from the hall.
+
+There was no response.
+
+He appeared in the doorway.
+
+"I say, I want a red handkerchief. Have you gotter red handkerchief,
+Mother?"
+
+"No, dear."
+
+"Have you Ethel?"
+
+"NO!"
+
+"All right," said William aggrievedly. "You needn't get mad, need you?
+I'm only askin' for a red handkerchief. I don't want a red
+handkerchief off you if you haven't _got_ it, do I?"
+
+"William, go _away_ and shut the door."
+
+William obeyed. Peace reigned throughout the house and garden for the
+next half-hour. Then Mrs. Brown's conscience began to prick her.
+
+"William must have something to eat, dear. Do go and find him."
+
+Ethel went out to the back garden. A scene of happy restfulness met
+her gaze. Mr. Blake reclined against one tree consuming bread and
+cheese, while a red handkerchief covered his knees. Mr. Johnson
+reclined against another tree, also consuming bread and cheese, while
+a red handkerchief covered his knees. William leant against a third
+tree consuming a little heap of scraps collected from the larder,
+while on his knees also reposed what was apparently a red
+handkerchief. Jumble sat in the middle catching with nimble, snapping
+jaws dainties flung to him from time to time by his circle of
+admirers.
+
+Ethel advanced nearer and inspected William's red handkerchief with
+dawning horror in her face. Then she gave a scream.
+
+"_William_, that's my silk scarf! It was for a hat. I've only just
+bought it. Oh, mother, do _do_ something to William! He's taken my new
+silk scarf--the one I'd got to trim my Leghorn. He's the most _awful_
+boy. I don't think----"
+
+Mrs. Brown came out hastily to pacify her. William handed the silk
+scarf back to its rightful owner.
+
+"Well, I'm _sorry_. I _thought_ it was a red handkerchief. It _looked_
+like a red handkerchief. Well, how could I _know_ it wasn't a red
+handkerchief? I've given it her back. It's all right, Jumble's only
+bit one end of it. And that's only jam what dropped on it. Well, it'll
+_wash_, won't it? Well, I've said I'm sorry.
+
+"I don't get much _thanks_," William continued bitterly. "Me givin' up
+my half holiday to helpin' you removin', an' I don't get much
+_thanks_!"
+
+"Well, William," said Mrs. Brown, "you can go to the new house with
+the first van. He'll be less in the way there," she confided
+distractedly to the world in general.
+
+William was delighted with this proposal. At the new house there was a
+fresh set of men to unload the van, and there was the thrill of making
+their acquaintance.
+
+Then the front gate was only just painted and bore a notice "Wet
+Paint." It was, of course, incumbent upon William to test personally
+the wetness of the paint. His trousers bore testimony to the testing
+to their last day, in spite of many applications of turpentine. Jumble
+also tested it, and had in fact to be disconnected with the front gate
+by means of a pair of scissors. For many weeks the first thing that
+visitors to the Brown household saw was a little tuft of Jumble's hair
+adorning the front gate.
+
+William then proceeded to "help" to the utmost of his power. He
+stumbled up from the van to the house staggering under the weight of a
+medicine cupboard, and leaving a trail of broken bottles and little
+pools of medicine behind. Jumble sampled many of the latter and became
+somewhat thoughtful.
+
+It was found that the door of a small bedroom at the top of the stairs
+was locked, and this fact (added to Mr. Jones' failure to return from
+his lemonade) rather impeded the progress of the unpackers.
+
+"Brike it open," suggested one.
+
+"Better not."
+
+"Per'aps the key's insoide," suggested another brightly.
+
+William had one of his brilliant ideas.
+
+"Tell you what I'll do," he said eagerly and importantly. "I'll climb
+up to the roof an' get down the chimney an' open it from the inside."
+
+They greeted the proposal with guffaws.
+
+They did not know William.
+
+It was growing dusk when Mrs. Brown and Ethel and the second van load
+appeared.
+
+"What is that on the gate?" said Ethel, stooping to examine the part
+of Jumble's coat that brightened up the dulness of the black paint.
+
+"It's that _dog_!" she said.
+
+Then came a ghost-like cry, apparently from the heavens.
+
+"Mother!"
+
+Mrs. Brown raised a startled countenance to the skies. There seemed to
+be nothing in the skies that could have addressed her.
+
+Then she suddenly saw a small face peering down over the coping of the
+roof. It was a face that was very frightened, under a superficial
+covering of soot. It was William's face.
+
+"I can't get down," it said hoarsely.
+
+Mrs. Brown's heart stood still.
+
+"Stay where you are, William," she said faintly. "Don't _move_."
+
+The entire staff of removers was summoned. A ladder was borrowed from
+a neighbouring garden and found to be too short. Another was fetched
+and fastened to it. William, at his dizzy height, was growing
+irritable.
+
+"I can't stay up here for _ever_," he said severely.
+
+At last he was rescued by his friend Mr. Blake and brought down to
+safety. His account was confused.
+
+"I wanted to _help_. I wanted to open that door for 'em, so I climbed
+up by the scullery roof, an' the ivy, an' the drain-pipe, an' I tried
+to get down the chimney. I didn't know which one it was, but I tried
+'em all an' they were all too little, an' I tried to get down by the
+ivy again but I couldn't, so I waited till you came an' hollered out.
+I wasn't scared," he said, fixing them with a stern eye. "I wasn't
+scared a bit. I jus' wanted to get down. An' this ole black chimney
+stuff tastes beastly. No, I'm all right," he ended, in answer to
+tender inquiries. "I'll go on helpin'."
+
+He was with difficulty persuaded to retire to bed at a slightly
+earlier hour than usual.
+
+"Well," he confessed, "I'm a bit tired with helpin' all day."
+
+Soon after he had gone Mr. Brown and Robert arrived.
+
+"And how have things gone to-day?" said Mr. Brown cheerfully.
+
+"Thank heaven William goes to school to-morrow," said Ethel devoutly.
+
+Upstairs in his room William was studying himself in the glass--torn
+jersey, paint-stained trousers, blackened face.
+
+"Well," he said with a deep sigh of satisfaction, "I guess I've jolly
+well _helped_ to-day!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+WILLIAM AND THE SMUGGLER
+
+
+William's family were going to the seaside for February. It was not an
+ideal month for the seaside, but William's father's doctor had ordered
+him a complete rest and change.
+
+"We shall have to take William with us, you know," his wife had said
+as they discussed plans.
+
+"Good heavens!" groaned Mr. Brown. "I thought it was to be a _rest_
+cure."
+
+"Yes, but you know what he is," his wife urged. "I daren't leave him
+with anyone. Certainly not with Ethel. We shall have to take them
+both. Ethel will help with him."
+
+Ethel was William's grown-up sister.
+
+"All right," agreed her husband finally. "You can take all
+responsibility. I formally disown him from now till we get back. I
+don't care _what_ trouble he lands you in. You know what he is and you
+deliberately take him away with me on a rest cure!"
+
+"It can't be helped dear," said his wife mildly.
+
+William was thrilled by the news. It was several years since he had
+been at the seaside.
+
+"Will I be able to go swimmin'?"
+
+"It _won't_ be too cold! Well, if I wrap up warm, will I be able to go
+swimmin'?"
+
+"Can I catch fishes?"
+
+"Are there lots of smugglers smugglin' there?"
+
+"Well, I'm only _askin'_, you needn't get mad!"
+
+One afternoon Mrs. Brown missed her best silver tray and searched the
+house high and low for it wildly, while dark suspicions of each
+servant in turn arose in her usually unsuspicious breast.
+
+It was finally discovered in the garden. William had dug a large hole
+in one of the garden beds. Into the bottom of this he had fitted the
+tray and had lined the sides with bricks. He had then filled it with
+water, and taking off his shoes and stockings stepped up and down his
+narrow pool. He was distinctly aggrieved by Mrs. Brown's reproaches.
+
+"Well, I was practisin' paddlin', ready for goin' to the seaside. I
+didn't _mean_ to rune your tray. You talk as if I _meant_ to rune your
+tray. I was only practisin' paddlin'."
+
+At last the day of departure arrived. William was instructed to put
+his things ready on his bed, and his mother would then come and pack
+for him. He summoned her proudly over the balusters after about twenty
+minutes.
+
+"I've got everythin' ready, Mother."
+
+Mrs. Brown ascended to his room.
+
+Upon his bed was a large pop-gun, a football, a dormouse in a cage, a
+punchball on a stand, a large box of "curios," and a buckskin which
+was his dearest possession and had been presented to him by an uncle
+from South Africa.
+
+Mrs. Brown sat down weakly on a chair.
+
+"You can't possibly take any of these things," she said faintly but
+firmly.
+
+"Well, you _said_ put my things on the bed for you to pack an' I've
+put them on the bed, an' now you say----"
+
+"I meant clothes."
+
+"Oh, _clothes_!" scornfully. "I never thought of _clothes_."
+
+"Well, you can't take any of these things, anyway."
+
+William hastily began to defend his collection of treasures.
+
+"I _mus'_ have the pop-gun 'cause you never know. There may be pirates
+an' smugglers down there, an' you can _kill_ a man with a pop-gun if
+you get near enough and know the right place, an' I might need it. An'
+I _must_ have the football to play on the sands with, an' the
+punchball to practise boxin' on, an' I _must_ have the dormouse,
+'cause--'cause to feed him, an' I _must_ have this box of things and
+this skin to show to folks I meet down at the seaside, 'cause they're
+int'restin'."
+
+But Mrs. Brown was firm, and William reluctantly yielded.
+
+In a moment of weakness, finding that his trunk was only three-quarter
+filled by his things, she slipped in his beloved buckskin, while
+William himself put the pop-gun inside when no one was looking.
+
+They had been unable to obtain a furnished house, so had to be content
+with a boarding house. Mr. Brown was eloquent on the subject.
+
+"If you're deliberately turning that child loose into a boarding-house
+full, presumably, of quiet, inoffensive people, you deserve all you
+get. It's nothing to do with me. I'm going to have a rest cure. I've
+disowned him. He can do as he likes."
+
+"It can't be helped, dear," said Mrs. Brown mildly.
+
+Mr. Brown had engaged one of the huts on the beach chiefly for
+William's use, and William proudly furnished its floor with the
+buckskin.
+
+"It was killed by my uncle," he announced to the small crowd of
+children at the door who had watched with interest his painstaking
+measuring of the floor in order to place his treasure in the exact
+centre. "He killed it dead--jus' like this."
+
+William had never heard the story of the death of the buck, and
+therefore had invented one in which he had gradually come to confuse
+himself with his uncle in the role of hero.
+
+"It was walkin' about an' I--he--met it. I hadn't got no gun, and it
+sprung at me an' I caught hold of its neck with one hand an' I broke
+off its horns with the other, an' I knocked it over. An' it got up an'
+ran at me--him--again, an' I jus' tripped it up with my foot an' it
+fell over again, an' then I jus' give it one big hit with my fist
+right on its head, an' it killed it an' it died!"
+
+There was an incredulous gasp.
+
+Then there came a clear, high voice from behind the crowd.
+
+"Little boy, you are not telling the truth."
+
+William looked up into a thin, spectacled face.
+
+"I wasn't tellin' it to you," he remarked, wholly unabashed.
+
+A little girl with dark curls took up the cudgels quite needlessly in
+William's defence.
+
+"He's a very _brave_ boy to do all that," she said indignantly. "So
+don't you go _saying_ things to him."
+
+"Well," said William, flattered but modest, "I didn't say I did it,
+did I? I said my uncle--well, partly my uncle."
+
+Mr. Percival Jones looked down at him in righteous wrath.
+
+"You're a very wicked little boy. I'll tell your father--er--I'll tell
+your sister."
+
+For Ethel was approaching in the distance and Mr. Percival Jones was
+in no way loth to converse with her.
+
+[Illustration: "YOU'RE A VERY WICKED LITTLE BOY!" SAID MR. PERCIVAL
+JONES.]
+
+Mr. Percival Jones was a thin, pale, aesthetic would-be poet who lived
+and thrived on the admiration of the elderly ladies of his
+boarding-house, and had done so for the past ten years. Once he had
+published a volume of poems at his own expense. He lived at the same
+boarding-house as the Browns, and had seen Ethel in the distance to
+meals. He had admired the red lights in her dark hair and the blue
+of her eyes, and had even gone so far as to wonder whether she
+possessed the solid and enduring qualities which he would require of
+one whom in his mind he referred to as his "future spouse."
+
+He began to walk down the beach with her.
+
+"I should like to speak to you--er--about your brother, Miss Brown,"
+he began, "if you can spare me the time, of course. I trust I do not
+er--intrude or presume. He is a charming little man but--er--I
+fear--not veracious. May I accompany you a little on your way? I
+am--er--much attracted to your--er--family. I--er--should like to know
+you all better. I am--er--deeply attached to your--er--little brother,
+but grieved to find that he does not--er--adhere to the truth in his
+statements. I--er----"
+
+Miss Brown's blue eyes were dancing with merriment.
+
+"Oh, don't you worry about William," she said. "He's _awful_. It's
+much best just to leave him alone. Isn't the sea gorgeous to-day?"
+
+They walked along the sands.
+
+Meanwhile William had invited his small defender into his hut.
+
+"You can look round," he said graciously. "You've seen my skin what
+I--he--killed, haven't you? This is my gun. You put a cork in there
+and it comes out hard when you shoot it. It would kill anyone,"
+impressively, "if you did it near enough to them and at the right
+place. An' I've got a dormouse, an' a punchball, an' a box of things,
+an' a football, but they wouldn't let me bring them," bitterly.
+
+"It's a _lovely_ skin," said the little girl. "What's your name?"
+
+"William. What's yours?"
+
+"Peggy."
+
+"Well, let's be on a desert island, shall we? An' nothin' to eat nor
+anything, shall we? Come on."
+
+She nodded eagerly.
+
+"How _lovely_!"
+
+They wandered out on to the promenade, and among a large crowd of
+passers-by bemoaned the lonely emptiness of the island and scanned the
+horizon for a sail. In the far distance on the cliffs could be seen
+the figures of Mr. Percival Jones and William's sister, walking slowly
+away from the town.
+
+At last they turned towards the hut.
+
+"We must find somethin' to eat," said William firmly. "We can't let
+ourselves starve to death."
+
+"Shrimps?" suggested Peggy cheerfully.
+
+"We haven't got nets," said William. "We couldn't save them from the
+wreck."
+
+"Periwinkles?"
+
+"There aren't any on this island. I know! Seaweed! An' we'll cook it."
+
+"Oh, how _lovely_!"
+
+He gathered up a handful of seaweed and they entered the hut, leaving
+a white handkerchief tied on to the door to attract the attention of
+any passing ship. The hut was provided with a gas ring and William,
+disregarding his family's express injunction, lit this and put on a
+saucepan filled with water and seaweed.
+
+"We'll pretend it's a wood fire," he said. "We couldn't make a real
+wood fire out on the prom. They'd stop us. So we'll pretend this is.
+An' we'll pretend we saved a saucepan from the wreck."
+
+After a few minutes he took off the pan and drew out a long green
+strand.
+
+"You eat it first," he said politely.
+
+The smell of it was not pleasant. Peggy drew back.
+
+"Oh, no, you first!"
+
+"No, you," said William nobly. "You look hungrier than me."
+
+She bit off a piece, chewed it, shut her eyes and swallowed.
+
+"Now you," she said with a shade of vindictiveness in her voice.
+"You're not going to not have any."
+
+William took a mouthful and shivered.
+
+"I think it's gone bad," he said critically.
+
+Peggy's rosy face had paled.
+
+"I'm going home," she said suddenly.
+
+"You can't go home on a desert island," said William severely.
+
+"Well, I'm going to be rescued then," she said.
+
+"I think I am, too," said William.
+
+It was lunch time when William arrived at the boarding-house. Mr.
+Percival Jones had moved his place so as to be nearer Ethel. He was
+now convinced that she was possessed of every virtue his future
+"spouse" could need. He conversed brightly and incessantly during the
+meal. Mr. Brown grew restive.
+
+"The man will drive me mad," he said afterwards. "Bleating away!
+What's he bleating about anyway? Can't you stop him bleating, Ethel?
+You seem to have influence. Bleat! Bleat! Bleat! Good Lord! And me
+here for a _rest_ cure!"
+
+At this point he was summoned to the telephone and returned
+distraught.
+
+"It's an unknown female," he said. "She says that a boy of the name of
+William from this boarding-house has made her little girl sick by
+forcing her to eat seaweed. She says it's brutal. Does anyone _know_
+I'm here for a rest cure? Where is the boy? Good heavens! Where is the
+boy?"
+
+But William, like Peggy, had retired from the world for a space. He
+returned later on in the afternoon, looking pale and chastened. He
+bore the reproaches of his family in stately silence.
+
+Mr. Percival Jones was in great evidence in the drawing-room.
+
+"And soon--er--soon the--er--Spring will be with us once more," he was
+saying in his high-pitched voice as he leant back in his chair and
+joined the tips of his fingers together. "The Spring--ah--the Spring!
+I have a--er--little effort I--er--composed on--er--the Coming of
+Spring--I--er--will read to you some time if you will--ah--be kind
+enough to--er--criticise--ah--impartially."
+
+"_Criticise_!" they chorused. "It will be above criticism. Oh, do read
+it to us, Mr. Jones."
+
+"I will--er--this evening." His eyes wandered to the door, hoping and
+longing for his beloved's entrance. But Ethel was with her father at a
+matinee at the Winter Gardens and he looked and longed in vain. In
+spite of this, however, the springs of his eloquence did not run dry,
+and he held forth ceaselessly to his little circle of admirers.
+
+"The simple--ah--pleasures of nature. How few of us--alas!--have
+the--er--gift of appreciating them rightly. This--er--little seaside
+hamlet with its--er--sea, its--er--promenade, its--er--Winter Gardens!
+How beautiful it is! How few appreciate it rightly."
+
+Here William entered and Mr. Percival Jones broke off abruptly. He
+disliked William.
+
+"Ah! here comes our little friend. He looks pale. Remorse, my young
+friend? Ah, beware of untruthfulness. Beware of the beginnings of a
+life of lies and deception." He laid a hand on William's head and cold
+shivers ran down William's spine. "'Be good, sweet child, and let who
+will be clever,' as the poet says." There was murder in William's
+heart.
+
+At that minute Ethel entered.
+
+"No," she snapped. "I sat next a man who smelt of bad tobacco. I
+_hate_ men who smoke bad tobacco."
+
+Mr. Jones assumed an expression of intense piety.
+
+"I may boast," he said sanctimoniously, "that I have never thus soiled
+my lips with drink or smoke ..."
+
+There was an approving murmur from the occupants of the drawing-room.
+
+William had met his father in the passage outside the drawing-room.
+Mr. Brown was wearing a hunted expression.
+
+"Can I go into the drawing-room?" he said bitterly, "or is he bleating
+away in there?"
+
+They listened. From the drawing-room came the sound of a high-pitched
+voice.
+
+Mr. Brown groaned.
+
+"Good Lord!" he moaned. "And I'm here for a _rest_ cure and he comes
+bleating into every room in the house. Is the smoking-room safe? Does
+he smoke?"
+
+Mr. Percival Jones was feeling slightly troubled in his usually
+peaceful conscience. He could honestly say that he had never smoked.
+He could honestly say that he had never drank. But in his bedroom
+reposed two bottles of brandy, purchased at the advice of an aunt "in
+case of emergencies." In his bedroom also was a box of cigars that he
+had bought for a cousin's birthday gift, but which his conscience had
+finally forbidden to present. He decided to consign these two emblems
+of vice to the waves that very evening.
+
+Meanwhile William had returned to the hut and was composing a tale of
+smugglers by the light of a candle. He was much intrigued by his
+subject. He wrote fast in an illegible hand in great sloping lines,
+his brows frowning, his tongue protruding from his mouth as it always
+did in moments of mental strain.
+
+His sympathies wavered between the smugglers and the representatives
+of law and order. His orthography was the despair of his teachers.
+
+_"'Ho,' sez Dick Savage,"_ he wrote. _"Ho! Gadzooks! Rol in the
+bottles of beer up the beech. Fill your pockets with the baccy from
+the bote. Quick, now! Gadzooks! Methinks we are observed!" He glared
+round in the darkness. In less time than wot it takes to rite this he
+was srounded by pleese-men and stood, proud and defiant, in the light
+of there electrick torches wot they had wiped quick as litening from
+their busums._
+
+_"'Surrender!' cried one, holding a gun at his brain and a drorn sord
+at his hart, 'Surrender or die!'_
+
+_"'Never,' said Dick Savage, throwing back his head, proud and
+defiant, 'Never. Do to me wot you will, you dirty dogs, I will never
+surrender. Soner will I die.'_
+
+_"One crule brute hit him a blo on the lips and he sprang back,
+snarling with rage. In less time than wot it takes to rite this he had
+sprang at his torturer's throte and his teeth met in one mighty bite.
+His torturer dropped ded and lifless at his feet._
+
+_"'Ho!' cried Dick Savage, throwing back his head, proud and defiant
+again, 'So dies any of you wot insults my proud manhood. I will meet
+my teeth in your throtes.'_
+
+_"For a minit they stood trembling, then one, bolder than the rest,
+lept forward and tide Dick Savage's hands with rope behind his back.
+Another took from his pockets bottles of beer and tobacco in large
+quantities._
+
+_"'Ho!' they cried exulting. 'Ho! Dick Savage the smugler caught at
+last!'_
+
+_"Dick Savage gave one proud and defiant laugh, and, bringing his tide
+hands over his hed he bit the rope with one mighty bite._
+
+_"'Ho! ho!' he cried, throwing back his proud hed, 'Ho, ho! You dirty
+dogs!'_
+
+_"Then, draining to the dregs a large bottle of poison he had
+concealed in his busum he fell ded and lifless at there feet.'"_
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+There was a timid knock at the door and William, scowling impatiently,
+rose to open it.
+
+"What d'you want?" he said curtly.
+
+A little voice answered from the dusk.
+
+"It's me--Peggy. I've come to see how you are, William. They don't
+know I've come. I was awful sick after that seaweed this morning,
+William."
+
+William looked at her with a superior frown.
+
+"Go away," he said, "I'm busy."
+
+"What you doing?" she said, poking her little curly head into the
+doorway.
+
+"I'm writin' a tale."
+
+She clasped her hands.
+
+"Oh, how lovely! Oh, William, do read it to me. I'd _love_ it!"
+
+Mollified, he opened the door and she took her seat on his buckskin on
+the floor, and William sat by the candle, clearing his throat for a
+minute before he began. During the reading she never took her eyes off
+him. At the end she drew a deep breath.
+
+"Oh, William, it's beautiful. William, are there smugglers now?"
+
+"Oh, yes. Millions," he said carelessly.
+
+"_Here_?"
+
+"Of course there are!"
+
+She went to the door and looked out at the dusk.
+
+"I'd love to see one. What do they smuggle, William?"
+
+He came and joined her at the door, walking with a slight swagger as
+became a man of literary fame.
+
+"Oh, beer an' cigars an' things. _Millions_ of them."
+
+A furtive figure was passing the door, casting suspicious glances to
+left and right. He held his coat tightly round him, clasping something
+inside it.
+
+"I expect that's one," said William casually.
+
+They watched the figure out of sight.
+
+Suddenly William's eyes shone.
+
+"Let's stalk him an' catch him," he said excitedly. "Come on. Let's
+take some weapons." He seized his pop-gun from a corner. "You take--"
+he looked round the room--"You take the wastepaper basket to put over
+his head an'--an' pin down his arms an' somethin' to tie him up!--I
+know--the skin I--he--shot in Africa. You can tie its paws in front of
+him. Come on! Let's catch him smugglin'."
+
+He stepped out boldly into the dusk with his pop-gun, followed by the
+blindly obedient Peggy carrying the wastepaper basket in one hand and
+the skin in the other.
+
+Mr. Percival Jones was making quite a little ceremony of consigning
+his brandy and cigars to the waves. He had composed "a little effort"
+upon it which began,
+
+    "O deeps, receive these objects vile,
+     Which nevermore mine eyes shall soil."
+
+He went down to the edge of the sea and, taking a bottle in each hand,
+held them out at arms' length, while he began in his high-pitched
+voice,
+
+     "O deeps, receive these----"
+
+He stopped. A small boy stood beside him, holding out at him the point
+of what in the semi-darkness Mr. Jones took to be a loaded rifle.
+William mistook his action in holding out the bottles.
+
+"It's no good tryin' to drink it up," he said severely. "We've caught
+you smugglin'."
+
+Mr. Percival Jones laughed nervously.
+
+"My little man!" he said, "that's a very dangerous--er--thing for you
+to have! Suppose you hand it over to me, now, like a good little
+chap."
+
+William recognised his voice.
+
+[Illustration: "WE'VE CAUGHT YOU SMUGGLING!" WILLIAM SAID SEVERELY.]
+
+"Fancy you bein' a smuggler all the time!" he said with righteous
+indignation in his voice.
+
+"Take away that--er--nasty gun, little boy," pleaded his captive
+plaintively.
+
+"You--ah--don't understand it. It--er--might go off."
+
+William was not a boy to indulge in half measures. He meant to carry
+the matter off with a high hand.
+
+"I'll shoot you dead," he said dramatically, "if you don't do jus'
+what I tell you."
+
+Mr. Percival Jones wiped the perspiration from his brow.
+
+"Where did you get that rifle, little boy?" he asked in a voice he
+strove to make playful. "Is it--ah--is it loaded? It's--ah--unwise,
+little boy. Most unwise. Er--give it to me to--er--take care of.
+It--er--might go off, you know."
+
+William moved the muzzle of his weapon, and Mr. Percival Jones
+shuddered from head to foot. William was a brave boy, but he had
+experienced a moment of cold terror when first he had approached his
+captive. The first note of the quavering high-pitched voice had,
+however, reassured him. He instantly knew himself to be the better
+man. His captive's obvious terror of his pop-gun almost persuaded him
+that he held in his hand some formidable death-dealing instrument. As
+a matter of fact Mr. Percival Jones was temperamentally an abject
+coward.
+
+"You walk up to the seats," commanded William. "I've took you prisoner
+for smugglin' an'--an'--jus' walk up to the seats."
+
+Mr. Percival Jones obeyed with alacrity.
+
+"Don't--er--_press_ anything, little boy," he pleaded as he went.
+"It--ah--might go off by accident. You might do--ah--untold damage."
+
+Peggy, armed with the wastepaper basket and the skin, followed
+open-mouthed.
+
+At the seat William paused.
+
+"Peggy, you put the basket over his head an' pin his arms down--case
+he struggles, an' tie the skin wot I shot round him, case he
+struggles."
+
+Peggy stood upon the seat and obeyed. Their victim made no protest. He
+seemed to himself to be in some horrible dream. The only thing of
+which he was conscious was the dimly descried weapon that William held
+out at him in the darkness. He was hardly aware of the wastepaper
+basket thrust over his head. He watched William anxiously through the
+basket-work.
+
+"Be careful," he murmured. "Be careful, boy!"
+
+He hardly felt the skin which was fastened tightly round his
+unresisting form by Peggy, the tail tied to one front paw.
+Unconsciously he still clasped a bottle of brandy in each arm.
+
+Then came the irate summons of Peggy's nurse through the dusk.
+
+"Oh, William," she said panting with excitement, "I don't want to
+leave you. Oh, William, he might _kill_ you!"
+
+"You go on. I'm all right," he said with conscious valour. "He can't
+do nothin' 'cause I've got a gun an' I can shoot him dead,"--Mr.
+Percival Jones shuddered afresh,--"an' he's all tied up an' I've took
+him prisoner an' I'm goin' to take him home."
+
+"Oh, William, you are brave!" she whispered in the darkness as she
+flitted away to her nurse.
+
+William blushed with pride and embarrassment.
+
+Mr. Percival Jones was convinced that he had to deal with a youthful
+lunatic, armed with a dangerous weapon, and was anxious only to humour
+him till the time of danger was over and he could be placed under
+proper restraint.
+
+Unconscious of his peculiar appearance, he walked before his captor,
+casting propitiatory glances behind him.
+
+"It's all right, little boy," he said soothingly, "quite all right.
+I'm--er--your friend. Don't--ah--get annoyed, little boy.
+Don't--ah--get annoyed. Won't you put your gun down, little man? Won't
+you let me carry it for you?"
+
+William walked behind, still pointing his pop-gun.
+
+"I've took you prisoner for smugglin'," he repeated doggedly. "I'm
+takin' you home. You're my prisoner. I've took you."
+
+They met no one on the road, though Mr. Percival Jones threw longing
+glances around, ready to appeal to any passer-by for rescue. He was
+afraid to raise his voice in case it should rouse his youthful captor
+to murder. He saw with joy the gate of his boarding-house and hastened
+up the walk and up the stairs. The drawing-room door was open. There
+was help and assistance, there was protection against this strange
+persecution. He entered, followed closely by William. It was about the
+time he had promised to read his "little effort" on the Coming of
+Spring to his circle of admirers. A group of elderly ladies sat round
+the fire awaiting him. Ethel was writing. They turned as he entered
+and a gasp of horror and incredulous dismay went up. It was that gasp
+that called him to a realisation of the fact that he was wearing a
+wastepaper basket over his head and shoulders, and that a mangy fur
+rug was tied round his arms.
+
+"Mr. _Jones_!" they gasped.
+
+He gave a wrench to his shoulders and the rug fell to the floor,
+revealing a bottle of brandy clasped in either arm.
+
+"Mr. _Jones_!" they repeated.
+
+"I caught him smugglin'" said William proudly. "I caught him smugglin'
+beer by the sea an' he was drinking those two bottles he'd smuggled
+an' he had thousands an' _thousands_ of cigars all over him, an' I
+caught him, an' he's a smuggler an' I brought him up here with my gun.
+He's a smuggler an' I took him prisoner."
+
+Mr. Jones, red, and angry, his hair awry, glared through the
+wickerwork of his basket. He moistened his lips. "This is an outrage,"
+he spluttered.
+
+Horrified elderly eyes stared at the incriminating bottles.
+
+"He was drinkin' 'em by the sea," said William.
+
+"Mr. _Jones_!" they chorused again.
+
+He flung off his wastepaper basket and turned upon the proprietress of
+the establishment who stood by the door.
+
+"I will not brook such treatment," he stammered in fury. "I leave your
+roof to-night. I am outraged--humiliated. I--I disdain to explain.
+I--leave your roof to-night."
+
+"Mr. _Jones_!" they said once more.
+
+[Illustration: "I CAUGHT HIM SMUGGLING," WILLIAM EXPLAINED PROUDLY.
+"HE HAD THOUSANDS AN' THOUSANDS OF CIGARS AND THAT BEER!"]
+
+Mr. Jones, still clasping his bottles, withdrew, pausing to glare at
+William on his way.
+
+"You _wicked_ boy! You wicked little, _untruthful_ boy," he said.
+
+William looked after him. "He's my prisoner an' they've let him go,"
+he said aggrievedly.
+
+Ten minutes later he wandered into the smoking room. Mr. Brown sat
+miserably in a chair by a dying fire beneath a poor light.
+
+"Is he still bleating there?" he said. "Is this still the only corner
+where I can be sure of keeping my sanity? Is he reading his beastly
+poetry upstairs? Is he----"
+
+"He's goin'," said William moodily. "He's goin' before dinner. They've
+sent for his cab. He's mad 'cause I said he was a smuggler. He was a
+smuggler 'cause I saw him doin' it, an' I took him prisoner an' he got
+mad an' he's goin'. An' they're mad at me 'cause I took him prisoner.
+You'd think they'd be glad at me catchin' smugglers, but they're not,"
+bitterly. "An' Mother says she'll tell you an' you'll be mad too
+an'----"
+
+Mr. Brown raised his hand.
+
+"One minute, my son," he said. "Your story is confused. Do I
+understand that Mr. Jones is going and that you are the cause of his
+departure?"
+
+"Yes, 'cause he got mad 'cause I said he was a smuggler an' he was a
+smuggler an' they're mad at me now, an'----"
+
+Mr. Brown laid a hand on his son's shoulder.
+
+"There are moments, William," he said, "when I feel almost
+affectionate towards you."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+THE REFORM OF WILLIAM
+
+
+To William the idea of reform was new and startling and not wholly
+unattractive. It originated with the housemaid whose brother was a
+reformed burglar now employed in a grocer's shop.
+
+"'E's got conversion," she said to William. "'E got it quite
+sudden-like, an' 'e give up all 'is bad ways straight off. 'E's bin
+like a heavenly saint ever since."
+
+William was deeply interested. The point was all innocently driven in
+later by the Sunday-school mistress. William's family had no real
+faith in the Sunday-school as a corrective to William's inherent
+wickedness, but they knew that no Sabbath peace or calm was humanly
+possible while William was in the house. So they brushed and cleaned
+and tidied him at 2.45 and sent him, pained and protesting, down the
+road every Sunday afternoon. Their only regret was that Sunday-school
+did not begin earlier and end later.
+
+Fortunately for William, most of his friends' parents were inspired by
+the same zeal, so that he met his old cronies of the week-days--Henry,
+Ginger, Douglas and all the rest--and together they beguiled the monotony
+of the Sabbath.
+
+But this Sunday the tall, pale lady who, for her sins, essayed to lead
+William and his friends along the straight and narrow path of virtue,
+was almost inspired. She was like some prophetess of old. She was so
+emphatic that the red cherries that hung coquettishly over the edge of
+her hat rattled against it as though in applause.
+
+"We must all _start afresh_," she said. "We must all be
+_turned_--that's what _conversion_ means."
+
+William's fascinated eye wandered from the cherries to the distant
+view out of the window. He thought suddenly of the noble burglar who
+had turned his back upon the mysterious, nefarious tools of his trade
+and now dispensed margarine to his former victims.
+
+Opposite him sat a small girl in a pink and white checked frock. He
+often whiled away the dullest hours of Sunday-school by putting out
+his tongue at her or throwing paper pellets at her (manufactured
+previously for the purpose). But to-day, meeting her serious eye, he
+looked away hastily.
+
+"And we must all _help someone_," went on the urgent voice. "If we
+have _turned_ ourselves, we must help someone else to _turn_...."
+
+Determined and eager was the eye that the small girl turned upon
+William, and William realised that his time had come. He was to be
+converted. He felt almost thrilled by the prospect. He was so
+enthralled that he received absent-mindedly, and without gratitude,
+the mountainous bull's-eye passed to him from Ginger, and only gave a
+half-hearted smile when a well-aimed pellet from Henry's hand sent one
+of the prophetess's cherries swinging high in the air.
+
+After the class the pink-checked girl (whose name most appropriately
+was Deborah) stalked William for several yards and finally cornered
+him.
+
+"William," she said, "are you going to _turn_?"
+
+"I'm goin' to think about it," said William guardedly.
+
+"William, I think you ought to turn. I'll help you," she added
+sweetly.
+
+William drew a deep breath. "All right, I will," he said.
+
+She heaved a sigh of relief.
+
+"You'll begin _now_, won't you?" she said earnestly.
+
+William considered. There were several things that he had wanted to do
+for some time, but hadn't managed to do yet. He had not tried turning
+off the water at the main, and hiding the key and seeing what would
+happen; he hadn't tried shutting up the cat in the hen-house; he
+hadn't tried painting his long-suffering mongrel Jumble with the pot
+of green paint that was in the tool shed; he hadn't tried pouring
+water into the receiver of the telephone; he hadn't tried locking the
+cook into the larder. There were, in short, whole fields of crime
+entirely unexplored. All these things--and others--must be done
+before the reformation.
+
+"I can't begin _jus'_ yet," said William. "Say day after to-morrow."
+
+She considered this for a minute.
+
+"Very well," she said at last reluctantly, "day after to-morrow."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The next day dawned bright and fair. William arose with a distinct
+sense that something important had happened. Then he thought of the
+reformation. He saw himself leading a quiet and blameless life,
+walking sedately to school, working at high pressure in school, doing
+his homework conscientiously in the evening, being exquisitely polite
+to his family, his instructors, and the various foolish people who
+visited his home for the sole purpose (apparently) of making inane
+remarks to him. He saw all this, and the picture was far from
+unattractive--in the distance. In the immediate future, however, there
+were various quite important things to be done. There was a whole
+normal lifetime of crime to be crowded into one day. Looking out of
+his window he espied the gardener bending over one of the beds. The
+gardener had a perfectly bald head. William had sometimes idly
+imagined the impact of a pea sent violently from a pea-shooter with
+the gardener's bald head. Before there had been a lifetime of
+experiment before him, and he had put off this one idly in favour of
+something more pressing. Now there was only one day. He took up his
+pea-shooter and aimed carefully. The pea did not embed itself deeply
+into the gardener's skull as William had sometimes thought it would.
+It bounced back. It bounced back quite hard. The gardener also bounced
+back with a yell of anger, shaking his fist at William's window. But
+William had discreetly retired. He hid the pea-shooter, assumed his
+famous expression of innocence, and felt distinctly cheered. The
+question as to what exactly would happen when the pea met the baldness
+was now for ever solved. The gardener retired grumbling to the potting
+shed, so, for the present, all was well. Later in the day the gardener
+might lay his formal complaint before authority, but later in the day
+was later in the day. It did not trouble William. He dressed briskly
+and went down to breakfast with a frown of concentration upon his
+face. It was the last day of his old life.
+
+[Illustration: THE PEA DID NOT EMBED ITSELF INTO THE GARDENER'S SKULL
+AS WILLIAM HAD SOMETIMES THOUGHT IT WOULD. IT BOUNCED BACK. THE
+GARDENER ALSO BOUNCED BACK.]
+
+No one else was in the dining-room. It was the work of a few minutes
+to remove the bacon from beneath the big pewter cover and substitute
+the kitten, to put a tablespoonful of salt into the coffee, and to put
+a two-days'-old paper in place of that morning's. They were all things
+that he had at one time or another vaguely thought of doing, but for
+which he had never yet seemed to have time or opportunity. Warming to
+his subject he removed the egg from under the egg cosy on his sister's
+plate and placed in its stead a worm which had just appeared in the
+window-box in readiness for the early bird.
+
+He surveyed the scene with a deep sigh of satisfaction. The only
+drawback was that he felt that he could not safely stay to watch
+results. William possessed a true strategic instinct for the right
+moment for a retreat. Hearing, therefore, a heavy step on the stairs,
+he seized several pieces of toast and fled. As he fled he heard
+through the open window violent sounds proceeding from the enraged
+kitten beneath the cover, and then the still more violent sounds
+proceeding from the unknown person who removed the cover. The kitten,
+a mass of fury and lust for revenge, came flying through the window.
+William hid behind a laurel bush till it had passed, then set off down
+the road.
+
+School, of course, was impossible. The precious hours of such a day as
+this could not be wasted in school. He went down the road full of his
+noble purpose. The wickedness of a lifetime was somehow or other to be
+crowded into this day. To-morrow it would all be impossible. To-morrow
+began the blameless life. It must all be worked off to-day. He skirted
+the school by a field path in case any of those narrow souls paid to
+employ so aimlessly the precious hours of his youth might be there.
+They would certainly be tactless enough to question him as he passed
+the door. Then he joined the main road.
+
+The main road was empty except for a caravan--a caravan gaily painted
+in red and yellow. It had little lace curtains at the window. It was
+altogether a most fascinating caravan. No one seemed to be near it.
+William looked through the windows. There was a kind of dresser with
+crockery hanging from it, a small table and a little oil stove. The
+further part was curtained off but no sound came from it, so that it
+was presumably empty too. William wandered round to inspect the
+quadruped in front. It appeared to be a mule--a mule with a jaundiced
+view of life. It rolled a sad eye towards William, then with a deep
+sigh returned to its contemplation of the landscape. William gazed
+upon caravan and steed fascinated. Never, in his future life of noble
+merit, would he be able to annex a caravan. It was his last chance. No
+one was about. He could pretend that he had mistaken it for his own
+caravan or had got on to it by mistake or--or anything. Conscience
+stirred faintly in his breast, but he silenced it sternly. Conscience
+was to rule him for the rest of his life and it could jolly well let
+him alone _this_ day. With some difficulty he climbed on to the
+driver's seat, took the reins, said "Gee-up" to the melancholy mule,
+and the whole equipage with a jolt and faint rattle set out along the
+road.
+
+William did not know how to drive, but it did not seem to matter. The
+mule ambled along and William, high up on the driver's seat, the reins
+held with ostentatious carelessness in one hand, the whip poised
+lightly in the other was in the seventh heaven of bliss. He was
+driving a caravan. He was driving a caravan. He was driving a caravan.
+The very telegraph posts seemed to gape with envy and admiration as
+he passed. What ultimately he was going to do with his caravan he
+neither knew nor cared. All that mattered was, it was a bright sunny
+morning, and all the others were in school, and he was driving a red
+and yellow caravan along the high road. The birds seemed to be singing
+a paeon of praise to him. He was intoxicated with pride. It was _his_
+caravan, _his_ road, _his_ world. Carelessly he flicked the mule with
+the whip. There are several explanations of what happened then. The
+mule may not have been used to the whip; a wasp may have just stung
+him at that particular minute; a wandering demon may have entered into
+him. Mules are notoriously accessible to wandering demons. Whatever
+the explanation, the mule suddenly started forward and galloped at
+full speed down the hill. The reins dropped from William's hands; he
+clung for dear life on to his seat, as the caravan, swaying and
+jolting along the uneven road, seemed to be doing its utmost to fling
+him off. There came a rattle of crockery from within. Then suddenly
+there came another sound from within--a loud, agonised scream. It was
+a female scream. Someone who had been asleep behind the curtain had
+just awakened.
+
+William's hair stood on end. He almost forgot to cling to the seat.
+For not one scream came but many. They rent the still summer air,
+mingled with the sound of breaking glass and crockery. The mule
+continued his mad career down the hill, his reins trailing in the
+dust. In the distance was a little gipsy's donkey cart full of pots
+and pans. William found his voice suddenly and began to warn the mule.
+
+[Illustration: WILLIAM'S HAIR STOOD ON END. HE ALMOST FORGOT TO CLING
+TO THE SEAT. FOR NOT ONE SCREAM CAME BUT MANY, MINGLED WITH THE SOUND
+OF BREAKING GLASS AND CROCKERY.]
+
+"Look out, you ole softie!" he yelled. "Look out for the donk, you ole
+ass."
+
+But the mule refused to be warned. He neatly escaped the donkey cart
+himself, but he crashed the caravan into it with such force that the
+caravan broke a shaft and overturned completely on to the donkey
+cart, scattering pots and pans far and wide. From within the caravan
+came inhuman female yells of fear and anger. William had fallen on to
+a soft bank of grass. He was discovering, to his amazement, that he
+was still alive and practically unhurt. The mule was standing meekly
+by and smiling to himself. Then out of the window of the caravan
+climbed a woman--a fat, angry woman, shaking her fist at the world in
+general. Her hair and face were covered with sugar and a fork was
+embedded in the front of her dress. Otherwise she, too, had escaped
+undamaged.
+
+The owner of the donkey cart arose from the _melee_ of pots and pans
+and turned upon her fiercely. She screamed at him furiously in reply.
+Then along the road could be seen the figure of a fat man carrying a
+fishing rod. He began to run wildly towards the caravan.
+
+"_Ach! Gott in Himmel_!" he cried as he ran, "my beautiful caravan!
+Who has this to it done?"
+
+He joined the frenzied altercation that was going on between the
+donkey man and the fat woman. The air was rent by their angry shouts.
+A group of highly appreciative villagers collected round them. Then
+one of them pointed to William, who sat, feeling still slightly
+shaken, upon the bank.
+
+"It was 'im wot done it," he said, "it was 'im that was a-drivin' of
+it down the 'ill."
+
+With one wild glance at the scene of devastation and anger, William
+turned and fled through the wood.
+
+"_Ach! Gott in Himmel!_" screamed the fat man, beginning to pursue
+him. The fat woman and the donkey man joined the pursuit. To William
+it was like some ghastly nightmare after an evening's entertainment at
+the cinematograph.
+
+Meanwhile the donkey and the mule fraternised over the _debris_ and
+the villagers helped themselves to all they could find. But the fat
+man was very fat, and the fat woman was very fat, and the donkey man
+was very old, and William was young and very fleet, so in less than
+ten minutes they gave up the pursuit and returned panting and
+quarrelling to the road. William sat on the further outskirts of the
+wood and panted. He felt on the whole exhilarated by the adventure. It
+was quite a suitable adventure for his last day of unregeneration. But
+he felt also in need of bodily sustenance, so he purchased a bun and a
+bottle of lemonade at a neighbouring shop and sat by the roadside to
+recover. There were no signs of his pursuers.
+
+He felt reluctant to return home. It is always well to follow a
+morning's absence from school by an afternoon's absence from school. A
+return in the afternoon is ignominious and humiliating. William
+wandered round the neighbourhood experiencing all the thrill of the
+outlaw. Certainly by this time the gardener would have complained to
+his father, probably the schoolmistress would have sent a note.
+Also--someone had been scratched by the cat.
+
+William decided that all things considered it was best to make a day
+of it.
+
+[Illustration: WILLIAM'S SPIRITS SANK A LITTLE AS HE APPROACHED THE
+GATE. HE COULD SEE THROUGH THE TREES THE FAT CARAVAN-OWNER
+GESTICULATING AT THE DOOR.]
+
+He spent part of the afternoon in throwing stones at a scarecrow. His
+aim was fairly good, and he succeeded in knocking off the hat and
+finally prostrating the wooden framework. Followed--an exciting chase
+by an angry farmer.
+
+It was after tea-time when he returned home, walking with careless
+bravado as of a criminal who has drunk of crime to its very depth and
+flaunts it before the world. His spirits sank a little as he
+approached the gate. He could see through the trees the fat
+caravan-owner gesticulating at the door. Helped by the villagers, he
+had tracked William. Phrases floated to him through the summer air.
+
+"Mine beautiful caravan.... _Ach.... Gott in Himmel_!"
+
+He could see the gardener smiling in the distance. There was a small
+blue bruise on his shining head. William judged from the smile that he
+had laid his formal complaint before authority. William noticed that
+his father looked pale and harassed. He noticed, also, with a thrill
+of horror, that his hand was bound up, and that there was a long
+scratch down his cheek. He knew the cat had scratched _somebody_,
+but ... Crumbs!
+
+A small boy came down the road and saw William hesitating at the open
+gateway.
+
+"_You'll_ catch it!" he said cheerfully. "They've wrote to say you
+wasn't in school."
+
+William crept round to the back of the house beneath the bushes. He
+felt that the time had come to give himself up to justice, but he
+wanted, as the popular saying is, to be sure of "getting his money's
+worth." There was the tin half full of green paint in the tool shed.
+He'd had his eye on it for some time. He went quietly round to the
+tool shed. Soon he was contemplating with a satisfied smile a green
+and enraged cat and a green and enraged hen. Then, bracing himself for
+the effort, he delivered himself up to justice. When all was said and
+done no punishment could be really adequate to a day like that.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Dusk was falling. William gazed pensively from his bedroom window. He
+was reviewing his day. He had almost forgotten the stormy and
+decidedly unpleasant scene with his father. Mr. Brown's rhetoric had
+been rather lost on William, because its pearls of sarcasm had been so
+far above his head. And William had not been really loth to retire at
+once to bed. After all, it had been a very tiring day.
+
+Now his thoughts were going over some of its most exquisite
+moments--the moments when the pea and the gardener's head met and
+rebounded with such satisfactory force; the moment when he swung along
+the high road, monarch of a caravan and a mule and the whole wide
+world; the moment when the scarecrow hunched up and collapsed so
+realistically; the cat covered with green paint.... After all it was
+his last day. He saw himself from to-morrow onward leading a quiet and
+blameless life, walking sedately to school, working at high pressure
+in school, doing his homework conscientiously in the evening, being
+exquisitely polite to his family and instructors--and the vision
+failed utterly to attract. Moreover, he hadn't yet tried turning off
+the water at the main, or locking the cook into the larder, or--or
+hundreds of things.
+
+There came a gentle voice from the garden.
+
+"William, where are you?"
+
+William looked down and met the earnest gaze of Deborah.
+
+"Hello," he said.
+
+"William," she said. "You won't forget that you're going to start
+to-morrow, will you?"
+
+William looked at her firmly.
+
+"I can't jus' to-morrow," he said. "I'm puttin' it off. I'm puttin' it
+off for a year or two."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+WILLIAM AND THE ANCIENT SOULS
+
+
+The house next William's had been unoccupied for several months, and
+William made full use of its garden. Its garden was in turns a jungle,
+a desert, an ocean, and an enchanted island. William invited select
+parties of his friends to it. He had come to look upon it as his own
+property. He hunted wild animals in it with Jumble, his trusty hound;
+he tracked Red Indians in it, again with Jumble, his trusty hound; and
+he attacked and sank ships in it, making his victims walk the plank,
+again with the help and assistance of Jumble, his trusty hound.
+Sometimes, to vary the monotony, he made Jumble, his trusty hound,
+walk the plank into the rain tub. This was one of the many unpleasant
+things that William brought into Jumble's life. It was only his
+intense love for William that reconciled him to his existence. Jumble
+was one of the very few beings who appreciated William.
+
+The house on the other side was a much smaller one, and was occupied
+by Mr. Gregorius Lambkin. Mr. Gregorius Lambkin was a very shy and
+rather elderly bachelor. He issued from his front door every morning
+at half-past eight holding a neat little attache case in a
+neatly-gloved hand. He spent the day in an insurance office and
+returned, still unruffled and immaculate, at about half past six. Most
+people considered him quite dull and negligible, but he possessed the
+supreme virtue in William's eyes of not objecting to William. William
+had suffered much from unsympathetic neighbours who had taken upon
+themselves to object to such innocent and artistic objects as
+catapults and pea-shooters, and cricket balls. William had a very soft
+spot in his heart for Mr. Gregorius Lambkin. William spent a good deal
+of his time in Mr. Lambkin's garden during his absence, and Mr.
+Lambkin seemed to have no objection. Other people's gardens always
+seemed to William to be more attractive than his own--especially when
+he had no right of entry into them.
+
+There was quite an excitement in the neighbourhood when the empty
+house was let. It was rumoured that the newcomer was a Personage. She
+was the President of the Society of Ancient Souls. The Society of
+Ancient Souls was a society of people who remembered their previous
+existence. The memory usually came in a flash. For instance, you might
+remember in a flash when you were looking at a box of matches that you
+had been Guy Fawkes. Or you might look at a cow and remember in a
+flash that you had been Nebuchadnezzar. Then you joined the Society of
+Ancient Souls, and paid a large subscription, and attended meetings
+at the house of its President in costume. And the President was coming
+to live next door to William. By a curious coincidence her name was
+Gregoria--Miss Gregoria Mush. William awaited her coming with anxiety.
+He had discovered that one's next-door neighbours make a great
+difference to one's life. They may be agreeable and not object to
+mouth organs and whistling and occasional stone-throwing, or they may
+not. They sometimes--the worst kind--go to the length of writing notes
+to one's father about one, and then, of course, the only course left
+to one is one of Revenge. But William hoped great things from Miss
+Gregoria Mush. There was a friendly sound about the name. On the
+evening of her arrival he climbed up on the roller and gazed wistfully
+over the fence at the territory that had once been his, but from which
+he was now debarred. He felt like Moses surveying the Promised Land.
+
+Miss Gregoria Mush was walking in the garden. William watched her with
+bated breath. She was very long, and very thin, and very angular, and
+she was reading poetry out loud to herself as she trailed about in her
+long draperies.
+
+"'Oh, moon of my delight....'" she declaimed, then her eye met
+William's. The eyes beneath her pince-nez were like little gimlets.
+
+"How dare you stare at me, you rude boy?" she said.
+
+William gasped.
+
+[Illustration: "HOW DARE YOU STARE AT ME, YOU RUDE BOY?" SHE SAID.]
+
+"I shall write to your father," she said fiercely, and then proceeded
+still ferociously, "'... that knows no wane.'"
+
+"Crumbs!" murmured William, descending slowly from his perch.
+
+She did write to his father, and that note was the first of many. She
+objected to his singing, she objected to his shouting, she objected to
+his watching her over the wall, and she objected to his throwing
+sticks at her cat. She objected both verbally and in writing. This
+persecution was only partly compensated for by occasional glimpses of
+meetings of the Ancient Souls. For the Ancient Souls met in costume,
+and sometimes William could squeeze through the hole in the fence and
+watch the Ancient Souls meeting in the dining-room. Miss Gregoria Mush
+arrayed as Mary, Queen of Scots (one of her many previous existences)
+was worth watching. And always there was the garden on the other side.
+Mr. Gregorius Lambkin made no objections and wrote no notes. But
+clouds of Fate were gathering round Mr. Gregorius Lambkin. William
+first heard of it one day at lunch.
+
+"I saw the old luny talking to poor little Lambkin to-day," said
+Robert, William's elder brother.
+
+In these terms did Robert refer to the august President of the Society
+of Ancient Souls.
+
+And the next news Robert brought home was that "poor little Lambkin"
+had joined the Society of Ancient Souls, but didn't seem to want to
+talk about it. He seemed very vague as to his previous existence, but
+he said that Miss Gregoria Mush was sure that he had been Julius
+Caesar. The knowledge had come to her in a flash when he raised his hat
+and she saw his bald head.
+
+There was a meeting of the Ancient Souls that evening, and William
+crept through the hole and up to the dining-room window to watch. A
+gorgeous scene met his eye. Noah conversed agreeably with Cleopatra in
+the window seat, and by the piano Napoleon discussed the Irish
+question with Lobengula. As William watched, his small nose flattened
+against a corner of the window, Nero and Dante arrived, having shared
+a taxi from the station. Miss Gregoria Mush, tall and gaunt and
+angular, presided in the robes of Mary, Queen of Scots, which was her
+favourite previous existence. Then Mr. Gregorius Lambkin arrived. He
+looked as unhappy as it is possible for man to look. He was dressed in
+a toga and a laurel wreath. Heat and nervousness had caused his small
+waxed moustache to droop. His toga was too long and his laurel wreath
+was crooked. Miss Gregoria Mush received him effusively. She carried
+him off to a corner seat near the window, and there they conversed,
+or, to be more accurate, she talked and he listened. The window was
+open and William could hear some of the things she said.
+
+"Now you are a member you must come here often ... you and I, the only
+Ancient Souls in this vicinity ... we will work together and live only
+in the Past.... Have you remembered any other previous existence?...
+No? Ah, try, it will come in a flash any time.... I must come and see
+your garden.... I feel that we have much in common, you and I.... We
+have much to talk about.... I have all my past life to tell you of ...
+what train do you come home by?... We must be friends--real
+friends.... I'm sure I can help you much in your life as an Ancient
+Soul.... Our names are almost the same.... Fate in some way unites
+us...."
+
+And Mr. Lambkin sat, miserable and dejected and yet with a certain
+pathetic resignation. For what can one do against Fate? Then the
+President caught sight of William and approached the window.
+
+[Illustration: MR. LAMBKIN SAT, MISERABLE AND DEJECTED, AND YET WITH A
+CERTAIN PATHETIC RESIGNATION.]
+
+"Go away, boy!" she called. "You wicked, rude, prying boy, go away!"
+
+Mr. Lambkin shot a wretched and apologetic glance at William, but
+William pressed his mouth to the open slit of the window.
+
+"All right, Mrs. Jarley's!" he called, then turned and fled.
+
+William met Mr. Lambkin on his way to the station the next morning.
+Mr. Lambkin looked thinner and there were lines of worry on his face.
+
+"I'm sorry she sent you away, William," he said. "It must have been
+interesting to watch--most interesting to watch. I'd much rather have
+watched than--but there, it's very kind of her to take such an
+interest in me. _Most_ kind. But I--however, she's very kind, _very_
+kind. She very kindly presented me with the costume. Hardly
+suitable, perhaps, but _very_ kind of her. And, of course, there _may_
+be something in it. One never knows. I _may_ have been Julius Caesar,
+but I hardly think--however, one must keep an open mind. Do you know
+any Latin, William?"
+
+"Jus' a bit," said William, guardedly. "I've _learnt_ a lot, but I
+don't _know_ much."
+
+"Say some to me. It might convey something to me. One never knows. She
+seems so sure. Talk Latin to me, William."
+
+"Hic, haec, hoc," said William obligingly.
+
+Julius Caesar's reincarnation shook his head.
+
+"No," he said, "I'm afraid it doesn't seem to mean anything to me."
+
+"Hunc, hanc, hoc," went on William monotonously.
+
+"I'm afraid it's no good," said Mr. Lambkin. "I'm afraid it proves
+that I'm not--still one may not retain a knowledge of one's former
+tongue. One must keep an open mind. Of course, I'd prefer not to--but
+one must be fair. And she's kind, very kind."
+
+Shaking his head sadly, the little man entered the station.
+
+That evening William heard his father say to his mother:
+
+"She came down to meet him at the station to-night. I'm afraid his
+doom is sealed. He's no power of resistance, and she's got her eye on
+him."
+
+"Who's got her eye on him?" said William with interest.
+
+"Be quiet!" said his father with the brusqueness of the male parent.
+
+But William began to see how things stood. And William liked Mr.
+Lambkin.
+
+One evening he saw from his window Mr. Gregorius Lambkin walking with
+Miss Gregoria Mush in Miss Gregoria Mush's garden. Mr. Gregorius
+Lambkin did not look happy.
+
+William crept down to the hole in the fence and applied his ear to it.
+
+They were sitting on a seat quite close to his hole.
+
+"Gregorius," the President of the Society of Ancient Souls was saying,
+"when I found that our names were the same I knew that our destinies
+were interwoven."
+
+"Yes," murmured Mr. Lambkin. "It's so kind of you, so kind. But--I'm
+afraid I'm overstaying my welcome. I must----"
+
+"No. I must say what is in my heart, Gregorius. You live on the Past,
+I live in the Past. We have a common mission--the mission of bringing
+to the thoughtless and uninitiated the memory of their former lives.
+Gregorius, our work would be more valuable if we could do it together,
+if the common destiny that has united our nomenclatures could unite
+also our lives."
+
+"It's so _kind_ of you," murmured the writhing victim, "so kind. I am
+so unfit, I----"
+
+"No, friend," she said kindly. "I have power enough for both. The
+human speech is so poor an agent, is it not?"
+
+A door bell clanged in the house.
+
+"Ah, the Committee of the Ancient Souls. They were coming from town
+to-night. Come here to-morrow night at the same time, Gregorius, and I
+will tell you what is in my heart. Meet me here--at this
+time--to-morrow evening."
+
+William here caught sight of a stray cat at the other end of the
+garden. In the character of a cannibal chief he hunted the white man
+(otherwise the cat) with blood-curdling war-whoops, but felt no real
+interest in the chase. He bound up his scratches mechanically with an
+ink-stained handkerchief. Then he went indoors. Robert was conversing
+with his friend in the library.
+
+"Well," said the friend, "it's nearly next month. Has she landed him
+yet?"
+
+"By Jove!" said Robert. "First of April to-morrow!" He looked at
+William suspiciously. "And if you try any fool's tricks on me you'll
+jolly well hear about it."
+
+"I'm not thinkin' of you," said William crushingly. "I'm not goin' to
+trouble with _you_!"
+
+"Has she landed him?" said the friend.
+
+"Not yet, and I heard him saying in the train that he was leaving town
+on the 2nd and going abroad for a holiday."
+
+"Well, she'll probably do it yet. She's got all the 1st."
+
+"It's bedtime, William," called his Mother.
+
+"Thank heaven!" said Robert.
+
+William sat gazing into the distance, not seeing or hearing.
+
+"_William_!" called his mother.
+
+"All right," said William irritably. "I'm jus' thinkin' something
+out."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+William's family went about their ways cautiously the next morning.
+They watched William carefully. Robert even refused an egg at
+breakfast because you never knew with that little wretch. But nothing
+happened.
+
+"Fancy your going on April Fool's day without making a fool of
+anyone," said Robert at lunch.
+
+"It's not over, is it?--not yet," said William with the air of a
+sphinx.
+
+"But it doesn't count after twelve," said Robert.
+
+William considered deeply before he spoke, then he said slowly:
+
+"The thing what I'm going to do counts whatever time it is."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Reluctantly, but as if drawn by a magnet, Mr. Lambkin set off to the
+President's house. William was in the road.
+
+"She told me to tell you," said William unblushingly, "that she was
+busy to-night, an' would you mind not coming."
+
+The tense lines of Mr. Lambkin's face relaxed.
+
+"Oh, William," he said, "it's a great relief. I'm going away early
+to-morrow, but I was afraid that to-night----" he was almost
+hysterical with relief. "She's so kind, but I was afraid that--well,
+well, I can't say I'm sorry--I'd promised to come, and I couldn't
+break it. But I was afraid--and I hear she's sold her house and is
+leaving in a month, so--but she's kind--_very_ kind."
+
+He turned back with alacrity.
+
+"Thanks for letting me have the clothes," said William.
+
+"Oh, quite welcome, William. They're nice things for a boy to dress up
+in, no doubt. I can't say I--but she's _very_ kind. Don't let her see
+you playing with them, William."
+
+William grunted and returned to his back garden.
+
+[Illustration: "GREGORIUS," SAID THE PRESIDENT. "HOW DEAR OF YOU TO
+COME IN COSTUME!" THE FIGURE MADE NO MOVEMENT.]
+
+For some time silence reigned over the three back gardens. Then Miss
+Gregoria Mush emerged and came towards the seat by the fence. A figure
+was already seated there in the half dusk, a figure swathed in a toga
+with the toga drawn also over its drooping head.
+
+"Gregorius!" said the President. "How dear of you to come in costume!"
+
+The figure made no movement.
+
+"You know what I have in my heart, Gregorius?"
+
+Still no answer.
+
+"Your heart is too full for words," she said kindly. "The thought of
+having your destiny linked with mine takes speech from you. But have
+courage, dear Gregorius. You shall work for me. We will do great
+things together. We will be married at the little church."
+
+Still no answer.
+
+"Gregorius!" she murmured tenderly:
+
+She leant against him suddenly, and he yielded beneath the pressure
+with a sudden sound of dissolution. Two cushions slid to the ground,
+the toga fell back, revealing a broomstick with a turnip fixed firmly
+to the top. It bore the legend:
+
+[Illustration: APRIL FOOL]
+
+And from the other side of the fence came a deep sigh of satisfaction
+from the artist behind the scenes.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+WILLIAM'S CHRISTMAS EVE
+
+
+It was Christmas. The air was full of excitement and secrecy. William,
+whose old-time faith in notes to Father Christmas sent up the chimney
+had died a natural death as the result of bitter experience, had
+thoughtfully presented each of his friends and relations with a list
+of his immediate requirements.
+
+     Things I want for Crismus
+     1.  A Bicycle.
+     2.  A grammerfone.
+     3.  A pony.
+     4.  A snake.
+     5.  A monkey.
+     6.  A Bugal
+     7.  A trumpit
+     8.  A red Injun uniform
+     9.  A lot of sweets.
+     10. A lot of books.
+
+He had a vague and not unfounded misgiving that his family would begin
+at the bottom of the list instead of the top. He was not surprised,
+therefore, when he saw his father come home rather later than usual
+carrying a parcel of books under his arm. A few days afterwards he
+announced casually at breakfast:
+
+"Well, I only hope no one gives me 'The Great Chief,' or 'The Pirate
+Ship,' or 'The Land of Danger' for Christmas."
+
+His father started.
+
+"Why?" he said sharply.
+
+"Jus' 'cause I've read them, that's all," explained William with a
+bland look of innocence.
+
+The glance that Mr. Brown threw at his offspring was not altogether
+devoid of suspicion, but he said nothing. He set off after breakfast
+with the same parcel of books under his arm and returned with another.
+This time, however, he did not put them in the library cupboard, and
+William searched in vain.
+
+The question of Christmas festivities loomed large upon the social
+horizon.
+
+"Robert and Ethel can have their party on the day before Christmas
+Eve," decided Mrs. Brown, "and then William can have his on Christmas
+Eve."
+
+William surveyed his elder brother and sister gloomily.
+
+"Yes, an' us eat up jus' what they've left," he said with bitterness.
+"_I_ know!"
+
+Mrs. Brown changed the subject hastily.
+
+"Now let's see whom we'll have for your party, William," she said,
+taking out pencil and paper. "You say whom you'd like and I'll make a
+list."
+
+"Ginger an' Douglas an' Henry and Joan," said William promptly.
+
+"Yes? Who else?"
+
+"I'd like the milkman."
+
+"You can't have the milkman, William. Don't be so foolish."
+
+"Well, I'd like to have Fisty Green. He can whistle with his fingers
+in his mouth."
+
+"He's a butcher's boy, William! You _can't_ have him?"
+
+"Well, who _can_ I have?"
+
+"Johnnie Brent?"
+
+"I don't like him."
+
+"But you must invite him. He asked you to his."
+
+"Well, I didn't want to go," irritably, "you made me."
+
+"But if he asks you to his you must ask him back."
+
+"You don't want me to invite folks I don't _want_?" William said in
+the voice of one goaded against his will into exasperation.
+
+"You must invite people who invite you," said Mrs. Brown firmly,
+"that's what we always do in parties."
+
+"Then they've got to invite you again and it goes on and on and _on_,"
+argued William. "Where's the _sense_ of it? I don't like Johnnie Brent
+an' he don't like me, an' if we go on inviting each other an' our
+mothers go on making us go, it'll go on and on and _on_. Where's the
+_sense_ of it? I only jus' want to know where's the _sense_ of it?"
+
+His logic was unanswerable.
+
+"Well, anyway, William, I'll draw up the list. You can go and play."
+
+William walked away, frowning, with his hands in his pockets.
+
+"Where's the _sense_ of it?" he muttered as he went.
+
+He began to wend his way towards the spot where he, and Douglas, and
+Ginger, and Henry met daily in order to wile away the hours of the
+Christmas holidays. At present they lived and moved and had their
+being in the characters of Indian Chiefs.
+
+As William walked down the back street, which led by a short cut to
+their meeting-place, he unconsciously assumed an arrogant strut,
+suggestive of some warrior prince surrounded by his gallant braves.
+
+"Garn! _Swank_!"
+
+He turned with a dark scowl.
+
+On a doorstep sat a little girl, gazing up at him with blue eyes
+beneath a tousled mop of auburn hair.
+
+William's eye travelled sternly from her Titian curls to her bare
+feet. He assumed a threatening attitude and scowled fiercely.
+
+"You better not say _that_ again," he said darkly.
+
+"Why not?" she said with a jeering laugh.
+
+"Well, you'd just better _not_," he said with a still more ferocious
+scowl.
+
+"What'd you do?" she persisted.
+
+He considered for a moment in silence. Then: "You'd see what I'd do!"
+he said ominously.
+
+"Garn! _Swank_!" she repeated. "Now do it! Go on, do it!"
+
+"I'll--let you off _this_ time," he said judicially.
+
+"Garn! _Softie_. You can't do anything, you can't! You're a softie!"
+
+"I could cut your head off an' scalp you an' leave you hanging on a
+tree, I could," he said fiercely, "an' I will, too, if you go on
+calling me names."
+
+"_Softie! Swank!_ Now cut it off! Go on!"
+
+He looked down at her mocking blue eyes.
+
+"You're jolly lucky I don't start on you," he said threateningly.
+"Folks I do start on soon get sorry, I can tell you."
+
+[Illustration: "GARN! SWANK!" WILLIAM TURNED WITH A DARK SCOWL.]
+
+"What you do to them?"
+
+He changed the subject abruptly.
+
+"What's your name?" he said.
+
+"Sheila. What's yours?"
+
+"Red Hand--I mean, William."
+
+"I'll tell you sumpthin' if you'll come an' sit down by me."
+
+"What'll you tell me?"
+
+"Sumpthin' I bet you don't know."
+
+"I bet I _do_."
+
+"Well, come here an' I'll tell you."
+
+He advanced towards her suspiciously. Through the open door he could
+see a bed in a corner of the dark, dirty room and a woman's white face
+upon the pillow.
+
+"Oh, come _on_!" said the little girl impatiently.
+
+He came on and sat down beside her.
+
+"Well?" he said condescendingly, "I bet I knew all the time."
+
+"No, you didn't! D'you know," she sank her voice to a confidential
+whisper, "there's a chap called Father Christmas wot comes down
+chimneys Christmas Eve and leaves presents in people's houses?"
+
+He gave a scornful laugh.
+
+"Oh, that _rot_! You don't believe _that_ rot, do you?"
+
+"Rot?" she repeated indignantly. "Why, it's _true_--_true_ as _true_!
+A boy told me wot had hanged his stocking up by the chimney an' in the
+morning it was full of things an' they was jus' the things wot he'd
+wrote on a bit of paper an' thrown up the chimney to this 'ere
+Christmas chap."
+
+"Only _kids_ believe that rot," persisted William. "I left off
+believin' it years and _years_ ago!"
+
+Her face grew pink with the effort of convincing him.
+
+"But the boy _told_ me, the boy wot got things from this 'ere chap wot
+comes down chimneys. An' I've wrote wot I want an' sent it up the
+chimney. Don't you think I'll get it?"
+
+William looked down at her. Her blue eyes, big with apprehension, were
+fixed on him, her little rosy lips were parted. William's heart
+softened.
+
+"I dunno," he said doubtfully. "You might, I s'pose. What d'you want
+for Christmas?"
+
+"You won't tell if I tell you?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Not to no one?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Say, 'Cross me throat.'"
+
+William complied with much interest and stored up the phrase for
+future use.
+
+"Well," she sank her voice very low and spoke into his ear.
+
+"Dad's comin' out Christmas Eve!"
+
+She leant back and watched him, anxious to see the effect of this
+stupendous piece of news. Her face expressed pride and delight,
+William's merely bewilderment.
+
+"Comin' out?" he repeated. "Comin' out of where?"
+
+Her expression changed to one of scorn.
+
+"_Prison_, of course! _Silly_!"
+
+William was half offended, half thrilled.
+
+"Well, I couldn't _know_ it was prison, could I? How could I _know_ it
+was prison without bein' told? It might of been out of anything.
+What--" in hushed curiosity and awe--"what was he in prison for?"
+
+"Stealin'."
+
+Her pride was unmistakable. William looked at her in disapproval.
+
+"Stealin's wicked," he said virtuously.
+
+"Huh!" she jeered, "you _can't_ steal! You're too soft! _Softie_! You
+_can't_ steal without bein' copped fust go, you can't."
+
+"I _could_!" he said indignantly. "And, any way, he got copped di'n't
+he? or he'd not of been in prison, _so there_!"
+
+"He di'n't get copped fust go. It was jus' a sorter mistake, he said.
+He said it wun't happen again. He's a jolly good stealer. The cops
+said he was and _they_ oughter know."
+
+"Well," said William changing the conversation, "what d'you want for
+Christmas?"
+
+"I wrote it on a bit of paper an' sent it up the chimney," she said
+confidingly. "I said I di'n't want no toys nor sweeties nor nuffin'. I
+said I only wanted a nice supper for Dad when he comes out Christmas
+Eve. We ain't got much money, me an' Mother, an' we carn't get 'im
+much of a spread, but if this 'ere Christmas chap sends one fer 'im,
+it'll be--_fine_!"
+
+Her eyes were dreamy with ecstasy. William stirred uneasily on his
+seat.
+
+"I tol' you it was _rot_," he said. "There isn't any Father Christmas.
+It's jus' an' ole tale folks tell you when you're a kid, an' you find
+out it's not true. He won't send no supper jus' cause he isn't
+anythin'. He's jus' nothin'--jus' an ole tale----"
+
+"Oh, shut _up!_" William turned sharply at the sound of the shrill
+voice from the bed within the room. "Let the kid 'ave a bit of
+pleasure lookin' forward to it, can't yer? It's little enough she 'as,
+anyway."
+
+William arose with dignity.
+
+"All right," he said. "Go'-bye."
+
+He strolled away down the street.
+
+"_Softie!_"
+
+It was a malicious sweet little voice.
+
+"_Swank_!"
+
+William flushed but forbore to turn round.
+
+That evening he met the little girl from next door in the road outside
+her house.
+
+"Hello, Joan!"
+
+"Hello, William!"
+
+In these blue eyes there was no malice or mockery. To Joan William was
+a god-like hero. His very wickedness partook of the divine.
+
+"Would you--would you like to come an' make a snow man in our garden,
+William?" she said tentatively.
+
+William knit his brows.
+
+"I dunno," he said ungraciously. "I was jus' kinder thinkin'."
+
+She looked at him silently, hoping that he would deign to tell her his
+thoughts, but not daring to ask. Joan held no modern views on the
+subject of the equality of the sexes.
+
+"Do you remember that ole tale 'bout Father Christmas, Joan?" he said
+at last.
+
+She nodded.
+
+"Well, s'pose you wanted somethin' very bad, an' you believed that ole
+tale and sent a bit of paper up the chimney 'bout what you wanted very
+bad and then you never got it, you'd feel kind of rotten, wouldn't
+you?"
+
+She nodded again.
+
+"I did one time," she said. "I sent a lovely list up the chimney and I
+never told anyone about it and I got lots of things for Christmas and
+not _one_ of the things I'd written for!"
+
+"Did you feel awful rotten?"
+
+"Yes, I did. Awful."
+
+"I say, Joan," importantly, "I've gotter secret."
+
+"_Do_ tell me, William!" she pleaded.
+
+"Can't. It's a crorse-me-throat secret!"
+
+She was mystified and impressed.
+
+"How _lovely_, William! Is it something you're going to do?"
+
+He considered.
+
+"It might be," he said.
+
+"I'd love to help." She fixed adoring blue eyes upon him.
+
+"Well, I'll see," said the lord of creation. "I say, Joan, you comin'
+to my party?"
+
+"Oh, _yes_!"
+
+"Well, there's an awful lot comin'. Johnny Brent an' all that lot. I'm
+jolly well not lookin' forward to it, I can _tell_ you."
+
+"Oh, I'm so sorry! Why did you ask them, William?"
+
+William laughed bitterly.
+
+"Why did I invite them?" he said. "_I_ don't invite people to my
+parties. _They_ do that."
+
+In William's vocabulary "they" always signified his immediate family
+circle.
+
+William had a strong imagination. When an idea took hold upon his
+mind, it was almost impossible for him to let it go. He was quite
+accustomed to Joan's adoring homage. The scornful mockery of his
+auburn-haired friend was something quite new, and in some strange
+fashion it intrigued and fascinated him. Mentally he recalled her
+excited little face, flushed with eagerness as she described the
+expected spread. Mentally also he conceived a vivid picture of the
+long waiting on Christmas Eve, the slowly fading hope, the final
+bitter disappointment. While engaging in furious snowball fights with
+Ginger, Douglas, and Henry, while annoying peaceful passers-by with
+well-aimed snow missiles, while bruising himself and most of his
+family black and blue on long and glassy slides along the garden
+paths, while purloining his family's clothes to adorn various
+unshapely snowmen, while walking across all the ice (preferably
+cracked) in the neighbourhood and being several times narrowly rescued
+from a watery grave--while following all these light holiday pursuits,
+the picture of the little auburn-haired girl's disappointment was ever
+vividly present in his mind.
+
+The day of his party drew near.
+
+"_My_ party," he would echo bitterly when anyone of his family
+mentioned it. "I don't _want_ it. I don't _want_ ole Johnnie Brent an'
+all that lot. I'd just like to un-invite 'em all."
+
+"But you want Ginger and Douglas and Henry," coaxed his Mother.
+
+"I can have them any time an' I don't like 'em at parties. They're not
+the same. I don't like _anyone_ at parties. I don't _want_ a party!"
+
+"But you _must_ have a party, William, to ask back people who ask
+you."
+
+William took up his previous attitude.
+
+"Well, where's the _sense_ of it?" he groaned.
+
+As usual he had the last word, but left his audience unconvinced. They
+began on him a full hour before his guests were due. He was brushed
+and scrubbed and scoured and cleaned. He was compressed into an Eton
+suit and patent leather pumps and finally deposited in the
+drawing-room, cowed and despondent, his noble spirit all but broken.
+
+The guests began to arrive. William shook hands politely with three
+strangers shining with soap, brushed to excess, and clothed in
+ceremonial Eton suits--who in ordinary life were Ginger, Douglas, and
+Henry. They then sat down and gazed at each other in strained and
+unnatural silence. They could find nothing to say to each other.
+Ordinary topics seemed to be precluded by their festive appearance and
+the formal nature of the occasion. Their informal meetings were
+usually celebrated by impromptu wrestling matches. This being
+debarred, a stiff, unnatural atmosphere descended upon them. William
+was a "host," they were "guests"; they had all listened to final
+maternal admonitions in which the word "manners" and "politeness"
+recurred at frequent intervals. They were, in fact, for the time
+being, complete strangers.
+
+Then Joan arrived and broke the constrained silence.
+
+"Hullo, William! Oh, William, you do look _nice_!"
+
+William smiled with distant politeness, but his heart warmed to her.
+It is always some comfort to learn that one has not suffered in vain.
+
+"How d'you do?" he said with a stiff bow.
+
+Then Johnnie Brent came and after him a host of small boys and girls.
+
+William greeted friends and foes alike with the same icy courtesy.
+
+Then the conjurer arrived.
+
+Mrs. Brown had planned the arrangement most carefully. The supper was
+laid on the big dining room table. There was to be conjuring for an
+hour before supper to "break the ice." In the meantime, while the
+conjuring was going on, the grown-ups who were officiating at the
+party were to have their meal in peace in the library.
+
+William had met the conjurer at various parties and despised him
+utterly. He despised his futile jokes and high-pitched laugh and he
+knew his tricks by heart. They sat in rows in front of him--shining-faced,
+well-brushed little boys in dark Eton suits and gleaming collars, and
+dainty white-dressed little girls with gay hair ribbons. William sat in
+the back row near the window, and next him sat Joan. She gazed at his
+set, expressionless face in mute sympathy. He listened to the monotonous
+voice of the conjurer.
+
+"Now, ladies and gentlemen, I will proceed to swallow these three
+needles and these three strands of cotton and shortly to bring out
+each needle threaded with a strand of cotton. Will any lady step
+forward and examine the needles? Ladies ought to know all about
+needles, oughtn't they? You young gentlemen don't learn to sew at
+school, do you? Ha! Ha! Perhaps some of you young gentlemen don't know
+what a needle is? Ha! Ha!"
+
+William scowled, and his thoughts flew off to the little house in the
+dirty back street. It was Christmas Eve. Her father was "comin' out."
+She would be waiting, watching with bright, expectant eyes for the
+"spread" she had demanded from Father Christmas to welcome her
+returning parent. It was a beastly shame. She was a silly little ass,
+anyway, not to believe him. He'd told her there wasn't any Father
+Christmas.
+
+"Now, ladies and gentlemen, I will bring out the three needles
+threaded with the three strands of cotton. Watch carefully, ladies and
+gentlemen. There! One! Two! Three! Now, I don't advise you young
+ladies and gentlemen to try this trick. Needles are very indigestible
+to some people. Ha! Ha! Not to me, of course! I can digest
+anything--needles, or marbles, or matches, or glass bowls--as you will
+soon see. Ha! Ha! Now to proceed, ladies and gentlemen."
+
+William looked at the clock and sighed. Anyway, there'd be supper
+soon, and that was a jolly good one, 'cause he'd had a look at it.
+
+Suddenly the inscrutable look left his countenance. He gave a sudden
+gasp and his whole face lit up. Joan turned to him.
+
+"Come on!" he whispered, rising stealthily from his seat.
+
+The room was in half darkness and the conjurer was just producing a
+white rabbit from his left toe, so that few noticed William's quiet
+exit by the window followed by that of the blindly obedient Joan.
+
+"You wait!" he whispered in the darkness of the garden. She waited,
+shivering in her little white muslin dress, till he returned from the
+stable wheeling a hand-cart, consisting of a large packing case on
+wheels and finished with a handle. He wheeled it round to the open
+French window that led into the dining-room. "Come on!" he whispered
+again.
+
+[Illustration: FEW NOTICED WILLIAM'S EXIT BY THE WINDOW, FOLLOWED BY
+THE BLINDLY OBEDIENT JOAN.]
+
+Following his example, she began to carry the plates of sandwiches,
+sausage rolls, meat pies, bread and butter, cakes and biscuits of
+every variety from the table to the hand-cart. On the top they
+balanced carefully the plates of jelly and blanc-mange and dishes of
+trifle, and round the sides they packed armfuls of crackers.
+
+At the end she whispered softly, "What's it for, William?"
+
+"It's the secret," he said. "The crorse-me-throat secret I told you."
+
+"Am I going to help?" she said in delight.
+
+He nodded.
+
+"Jus' wait a minute," he added, and crept from the dining-room to the
+hall and upstairs.
+
+He returned with a bundle of clothing which he proceeded to arrange in
+the garden. He first donned his own red dressing gown and then wound a
+white scarf round his head, tying it under his chin so that the ends
+hung down.
+
+"I'm makin' believe I'm Father Christmas," he deigned to explain. "An'
+I'm makin' believe this white stuff is hair an' beard. An' this is for
+you to wear so's you won't get cold."
+
+He held out a little white satin cloak edged with swansdown.
+
+"Oh, how _lovely_, William! But it's not my cloak! It's Sadie
+Murford's!"
+
+"Never mind! you can wear it," said William generously.
+
+Then, taking the handles of the cart, he set off down the drive. From
+the drawing-room came the sound of a chorus of delight as the conjurer
+produced a goldfish in a glass bowl from his head. From the kitchen
+came the sound of the hilarious laughter of the maids. Only in the
+dining-room, with its horrible expanse of empty table, was silence.
+
+They walked down the road without speaking till Joan gave a little
+excited laugh.
+
+"This is _fun_, William! I do wonder what we're going to do."
+
+"You'll see," said William. "I'd better not tell you yet. I promised a
+crorse-me-throat promise I wouldn't tell anyone."
+
+"All right, William," she said sweetly. "I don't mind a bit."
+
+The evening was dark and rather foggy, so that the strange couple
+attracted little attention, except when passing beneath the street
+lamps. Then certainly people stood still and looked at William and his
+cart in open-mouthed amazement.
+
+At last they turned down a back street towards a door that stood open
+to the dark, foggy night. Inside the room was a bare table at which
+sat a little girl, her blue, anxious eyes fixed on the open door.
+
+"I hope he gets here before Dad," she said. "I wouldn't like Dad to
+come and find it not ready!"
+
+The woman on the bed closed her eyes wearily.
+
+"I don't think he'll come now, dearie. We must just get on without
+it."
+
+The little girl sprang up, her pale cheek suddenly flushed.
+
+"Oh, _listen_!" she cried; "_something's_ coming!"
+
+They listened in breathless silence, while the sound of wheels came
+down the street towards the empty door. Then--an old hand-cart
+appeared in the doorway and behind it William in his strange attire,
+and Joan in her fairy-like white--white cloak, white dress, white
+socks and shoes--her bright curls clustered with gleaming fog jewels.
+
+The little girl clasped her hands. Her face broke into a rapt smile.
+Her blue eyes were like stars.
+
+[Illustration: FIRST THE JELLIES AND BLANC MANGES--THEN THE MEAT PIES
+AND TRIFLES.]
+
+"Oh, oh!" she cried. "It's Father Christmas and a fairy!"
+
+Without a word William pushed the cart through the doorway into the
+room and began to remove its contents and place them on the table.
+First the jellies and trifles and blanc-manges, then the meat pies,
+pastries, sausage rolls, sandwiches, biscuits, and cakes--sugar-coated,
+cream-interlayered, full of plums and nuts and fruit. William's mother
+had had wide experience and knew well what food most appealed to small
+boys and girls. Moreover she had provided plentifully for her twenty
+guests.
+
+The little girl was past speech. The woman looked at them in dumb
+wonder. Then:
+
+"Why, you're the boy she was talkin' to," she said at last. "It's real
+kind of you. She was gettin' that upset. It 'ud have broke her heart
+if nothin' had come an' I couldn't do nothin'. It's real kind of yer,
+sir!" Her eyes were misty.
+
+Joan placed the last cake on the table, and William, who was rather
+warm after his exertions, removed his scarf.
+
+The child gave a little sobbing laugh.
+
+"Oh, isn't it _lovely_? I'm so happy! You're the funny boy, aren't
+you, dressed up as Father Christmas? Or did Father Christmas send you?
+Or were you Father Christmas all the time? May I kiss the fairy? Would
+she mind? She's so beautiful!"
+
+Joan came forward and kissed her shyly, and the woman on the bed
+smiled unsteadily.
+
+"It's real kind of you both," she murmured again.
+
+Then the door opened, and the lord and master of the house entered
+after his six months' absence. He came in no sheepish hang-dog
+fashion. He entered cheerily and boisterously as any parent might on
+returning from a hard-earned holiday.
+
+"'Ello, Missus! 'Ello, Kid! 'Ello! Wot's all this 'ere?" His eyes fell
+upon William. "'Ello young gent!"
+
+"Happy Christmas," William murmured politely.
+
+"Sime to you an' many of them. 'Ow are you, Missus? Kid looked arter
+you all right? That's _right_. Oh, I _sye_! Where's the grub come
+from? Fair mikes me mouth water. I 'aven't seen nuffin' like
+_this_--not fer _some_ time!"
+
+There was a torrent of explanations, everyone talking at once. He gave
+a loud guffaw at the end.
+
+"Well, we're much obliged to this young gent and this little lady, and
+now we'll 'ave a good ole supper. This is all _right_, this is! Now,
+Missus, you 'ave a good feed. Now, 'fore we begin, I sye three cheers
+fer the young gent and little lady. Come on, now, 'Ip, 'ip, 'ip,
+'_ooray_! Now, little lady, you come 'ere. That's fine, that is! Now
+'oo'll 'ave a meat pie? 'Oo's fer a meat pie? Come on, Missus! That's
+right. We'll _all_ 'ave meat pies! This 'ere's sumfin _like_
+Christmas, eh? We've not 'ad a Christmas like this--not for many a
+long year. Now, 'urry up, Kid. Don't spend all yer time larfin'. Now,
+ladies an' gents, 'oo's fer a sausage roll? All of us? Come on, then!
+I mustn't eat too 'eavy or I won't be able to sing to yer aterwards,
+will I? I've got some fine songs, young gent. And Kid 'ere 'll dance
+fer yer. She's a fine little dancer, she is! Now, come on, ladies an'
+gents, sandwiches? More pies? Come on!"
+
+They laughed and chattered merrily. The woman sat up in bed, her eyes
+bright and her cheeks flushed. To William and Joan it was like some
+strange and wonderful dream.
+
+And at that precise moment Mrs. Brown had sunk down upon the nearest
+dining-room chair on the verge of tears, and twenty pairs of hungry
+horrified eyes in twenty clean, staring, open-mouthed little faces
+surveyed the bare expanse of the dining-room table. And the cry that
+went up all round was:--
+
+"_Where's William?_"
+
+And then:--
+
+"_Where's Joan?_"
+
+They searched the house and garden and stable for them in vain. They
+sent the twenty enraged guests home supperless and aggrieved.
+
+"Has William eaten _all_ our suppers?" they said.
+
+"Where _is_ he? Is he dead?"
+
+"People will never forget," wailed Mrs. Brown. "It's simply dreadful.
+And where _is_ William?"
+
+They rang up police-stations for miles around.
+
+"If they've eaten all that food--the two of them," said Mrs. Brown
+almost distraught, "they'll _die_! They may be dying in some hospital
+now! And I do wish Mrs. Murford would stop ringing up about Sadie's
+cloak. I've told her it's not here!"
+
+Meantime there was dancing, and singing, and games, and
+cracker-pulling in a small house in a back street not very far away.
+
+"I've never had such a _lovely_ time in my life," gasped the Kid
+breathlessly at the end of one of the many games into which William
+had initiated them. "I've never, never, _never_----"
+
+"We won't ferget you in a 'urry, young man," her father added, "nor
+the little lady neither. We'll 'ave many talks about this 'ere!"
+
+Joan was sitting on the bed, laughing and panting, her curls all
+disordered.
+
+"I wish," said William wistfully, "I wish you'd let me come with you
+when you go stealin' some day!"
+
+"I'm not goin' stealin' _no_ more, young gent," said his friend
+solemnly. "I got a job--a real steady job--brick-layin', an' I'm goin'
+to stick to it."
+
+All good things must come to an end, and soon William donned his red
+dressing-gown again and Joan her borrowed cloak, and they helped to
+store the remnants of the feast in the larder--the remnants of the
+feast would provide the ex-burglar and his family with food for many
+days to come. Then they took the empty hand-cart and, after many fond
+farewells, set off homeward through the dark.
+
+Mr. Brown had come home and assumed charge of operations.
+
+Ethel was weeping on the sofa in the library.
+
+"Oh, dear little William!" she sobbed. "I do _wish_ I'd always been
+kind to him!"
+
+Mrs. Brown was reclining, pale and haggard, in the arm-chair.
+
+"There's the Roughborough Canal, John!" she was saying weakly. "And
+Joan's mother will always say it was our fault. Oh, _poor_ little
+William!"
+
+"It's a good ten miles away," said her husband drily. "I don't think
+even William----" He rang up fiercely. "Confound these brainless police!
+Hallo! Any news? A boy and girl and supper for twenty can't disappear
+off the face of the earth. No, there had been _no_ trouble at home.
+There probably _will_ be when he turns up, but there was none before!
+If he wanted to run away, why would he burden himself with a supper
+for twenty? Why--one minute!"
+
+The front door opened and Mrs. Brown ran into the hall.
+
+A well-known voice was heard speaking quickly and irritably.
+
+"I jus' went away, that's all! I jus' thought of something I wanted to
+do, that's all! Yes, I _did_ take the supper. I jus' wanted it for
+something. It's a secret what I wanted it for, I----"
+
+[Illustration: "WASN'T SHE A JOLLY LITTLE KID?" WILLIAM SAID
+EAGERLY.]
+
+"_William_!" said Mr. Brown.
+
+Through the scenes that followed William preserved a dignified
+silence, even to the point of refusing any explanation. Such
+explanation as there was filtered through from Joan's mother by means
+of the telephone.
+
+"It was all William's idea," Joan's mother said plaintively. "Joan
+would never have done _anything_ if William hadn't practically _made_
+her. I expect she's caught her death of cold. She's in bed now----"
+
+"Yes, so is William. I can't _think_ what they wanted to take _all_
+the food for. And he was just a common man straight from prison. It's
+dreadful. I do hope they haven't picked up any awful language. Have
+you given Joan some quinine? Oh, Mrs. Murford's just rung up to see if
+Sadie's cloak has turned up. Will you send it round? I feel so _upset_
+by it all. If it wasn't Christmas Eve----"
+
+The houses occupied by William's and Joan's families respectively were
+semi-detached, but William's and Joan's bedroom windows faced each
+other, and there was only about five yards between them.
+
+[Illustration: "YES," A PAUSE, THEN--"WILLIAM, YOU DON'T LIKE HER
+BETTER THAN ME, DO YOU?"]
+
+There came to William's ears as he lay drowsily in bed the sound of a
+gentle rattle at the window. He got up and opened it. At the opposite
+window a little white-robed figure leant out, whose golden curls shone
+in the starlight.
+
+"William," she whispered, "I threw some beads to see if you were
+awake. Were your folks mad?"
+
+"Awful," said William laconically.
+
+"Mine were too. I di'n't care, did you?"
+
+"No, I di'n't. Not a bit!"
+
+"William, wasn't it _fun_? I wish it was just beginning again, don't
+you?"
+
+"Yes, I jus' do. I say, Joan, wasn't she a jolly little kid and di'n't
+she dance fine?"
+
+"Yes,"--a pause--then, "William, you don't like her better'n me, do
+you?"
+
+William considered.
+
+"No, I don't," he said at last.
+
+A soft sigh of relief came through the darkness.
+
+"I'm so _glad_! Go'-night, William."
+
+"Go'-night," said William sleepily, drawing down his window as he
+spoke.
+
+
+
+***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MORE WILLIAM***
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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #17125 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/17125)
author	Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org>	2025-10-15 04:50:22 -0700
committer	Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org>	2025-10-15 04:50:22 -0700
commit	66fe0e430a1f84874fbc8b554a23c0298efdfd38 (patch)
tree	aa900fcea693ac160f6b4debf9bb93ba4a6217e5