presence.
‘Come with me,’ he said.
Hand in hand, a curious couple, they went through the woods to the back of William’s house. ‘If I die,’ he said at once, ‘afore we get home, you’d better bury me.
There’s a spade in the back garden.’
He took her round to the shed in his back garden.
‘You stay here,’ he whispered. ‘An’ I’ll try and get my head took off an’ then get us somethin’ to eat.’
Cautiously and apprehensively he crept into the house. He could hear his mother talking to the cook in the kitchen.
‘It stood right in the window,’ she was saying in a trembling voice. ‘Not a very big animal but so ferocious-looking. We got out just in time – it was just getting ready
to spring. It—’
William crept to the open kitchen door and assumed his most plaintive expression, forgetting for the moment that his expression could not be seen. Just as he was opening his mouth to speak, cook
turned round and saw him. The scream that cook emitted sent William scampering up to his room in utter terror.
‘It’s gone up – plungin’ into Master William’s room – the brute! Thank evving the little darlin’s out playin’. Oh, Mum, the cunnin’
brute’s a-shut the door. Oh, my! It turned me inside out – it did. Oh, I darsn’t go an’ lock it in, but that’s what ought to be done—’
‘We – we’ll get someone with a gun,’ said Mrs Brown weakly. ‘We – oh, here’s the master.’
Mr Brown entered as she spoke. ‘I’ve got terrible news for you,’ he said.
Mrs Brown burst into tears.
‘Oh, John, nothing could be worse than – than – John, it’s upstairs. Do get a gun – in William’s room. And – oh, my goodness, suppose, he’s there
– suppose it’s mangling him – do go—’
Mr Brown sat calmly in his chair.
‘William,’ he said, ‘has eloped with a jeune première and a bear-skin. An entire Christmas pantomime is searching the village for him. They’ve spent the
afternoon searching the wood and now they are searching the village. Father Christmas is drinking ale in a pub. He discovered that William had paid it a visit. A Fairy Queen is sitting outside the
pub complaining of toothache, and Goldilocks’s mother is complimenting the Vicar on the rural beauty of his village, in the intervals of weeping over the loss of her daughter. I gathered that
William had visited the Vicarage. There’s a giant complaining of the cold, and a man in his shirt-sleeves whose language is turning the air blue for miles around. I was coming up from the
station and was introduced to them as William’s father. I had some difficulty in calming them, but I promised to do what I could to find the missing pair. I’m rather keen on finding
William. I don’t think I can do better than hand him over to them for a few minutes. As for the missing damsel—’
Mrs Brown found her voice.
‘Do you mean—’ she gasped feebly, ‘do you mean that it was William all the time?’
Mr Brown rose wearily.
‘Of course,’ he said. ‘Isn’t everything always William all the time?’
CHAPTER 5
AUNT JANE’S TREAT
W illiam was blessed with many relations, though ‘blessed’ is not quite the word he would have used himself. They seemed to appear and
disappear and reappear in spasmodic succession throughout the year. He never could keep count of them. Most of them he despised, some he actually disliked. The latter class reciprocated his
feelings fervently. Great-Aunt Jane was one he had never seen, and so he suspended judgment on her. But he rather liked the sound of her name. He received the news that she was coming to stay over
Christmas with indifference.
‘All right,’ he said, ‘I don’t care. She can come if she wants to.’
She came.
She was tall and angular and precise. She received William’s scowling greeting with a smile.
‘Best wishes of the festive season, William,’ she murmured.
William looked at her scornfully.
All right,’ he
‘Come with me,’ he said.
Hand in hand, a curious couple, they went through the woods to the back of William’s house. ‘If I die,’ he said at once, ‘afore we get home, you’d better bury me.
There’s a spade in the back garden.’
He took her round to the shed in his back garden.
‘You stay here,’ he whispered. ‘An’ I’ll try and get my head took off an’ then get us somethin’ to eat.’
Cautiously and apprehensively he crept into the house. He could hear his mother talking to the cook in the kitchen.
‘It stood right in the window,’ she was saying in a trembling voice. ‘Not a very big animal but so ferocious-looking. We got out just in time – it was just getting ready
to spring. It—’
William crept to the open kitchen door and assumed his most plaintive expression, forgetting for the moment that his expression could not be seen. Just as he was opening his mouth to speak, cook
turned round and saw him. The scream that cook emitted sent William scampering up to his room in utter terror.
‘It’s gone up – plungin’ into Master William’s room – the brute! Thank evving the little darlin’s out playin’. Oh, Mum, the cunnin’
brute’s a-shut the door. Oh, my! It turned me inside out – it did. Oh, I darsn’t go an’ lock it in, but that’s what ought to be done—’
‘We – we’ll get someone with a gun,’ said Mrs Brown weakly. ‘We – oh, here’s the master.’
Mr Brown entered as she spoke. ‘I’ve got terrible news for you,’ he said.
Mrs Brown burst into tears.
‘Oh, John, nothing could be worse than – than – John, it’s upstairs. Do get a gun – in William’s room. And – oh, my goodness, suppose, he’s there
– suppose it’s mangling him – do go—’
Mr Brown sat calmly in his chair.
‘William,’ he said, ‘has eloped with a jeune première and a bear-skin. An entire Christmas pantomime is searching the village for him. They’ve spent the
afternoon searching the wood and now they are searching the village. Father Christmas is drinking ale in a pub. He discovered that William had paid it a visit. A Fairy Queen is sitting outside the
pub complaining of toothache, and Goldilocks’s mother is complimenting the Vicar on the rural beauty of his village, in the intervals of weeping over the loss of her daughter. I gathered that
William had visited the Vicarage. There’s a giant complaining of the cold, and a man in his shirt-sleeves whose language is turning the air blue for miles around. I was coming up from the
station and was introduced to them as William’s father. I had some difficulty in calming them, but I promised to do what I could to find the missing pair. I’m rather keen on finding
William. I don’t think I can do better than hand him over to them for a few minutes. As for the missing damsel—’
Mrs Brown found her voice.
‘Do you mean—’ she gasped feebly, ‘do you mean that it was William all the time?’
Mr Brown rose wearily.
‘Of course,’ he said. ‘Isn’t everything always William all the time?’
CHAPTER 5
AUNT JANE’S TREAT
W illiam was blessed with many relations, though ‘blessed’ is not quite the word he would have used himself. They seemed to appear and
disappear and reappear in spasmodic succession throughout the year. He never could keep count of them. Most of them he despised, some he actually disliked. The latter class reciprocated his
feelings fervently. Great-Aunt Jane was one he had never seen, and so he suspended judgment on her. But he rather liked the sound of her name. He received the news that she was coming to stay over
Christmas with indifference.
‘All right,’ he said, ‘I don’t care. She can come if she wants to.’
She came.
She was tall and angular and precise. She received William’s scowling greeting with a smile.
‘Best wishes of the festive season, William,’ she murmured.
William looked at her scornfully.
All right,’ he
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