capacities which the
little stranger had failed to pass with credit, had gone off for the afternoon on their own devices, leaving the little stranger to his. After wandering round the garden once and finding in it few
possibilities of amusement the little stranger had returned home – just half an hour after he had left it. Mrs Brown wasn’t going to have any more contretemps like that. So she
said very firmly, ‘ No , William.’
‘All right,’ acquiesced William with an air of weary patience, ‘I was only thinkin’ of him. I was only thinkin’ that p’raps he’d sort of enjoy it
better if there was more of us to play with.’
But Mrs Brown again said, ‘ No , William,’ meaningly, and William, who had a suspicion that she remembered their entertaining of the last little stranger, forebore to press the
point. So William was the solitary host when Georgie arrived. The prospect of being the solitary host had depressed him all morning, and the sight of Georgie’s trim little figure in its
spotless white sailor suit threw him into a state of despair that was almost homicidal in its intensity. He’d had a horrible suspicion all along that Georgie would be like that. And a whole
afternoon with him . . . a whole afternoon!
Mrs Brown, however, gave Georgie a kindly smile of welcome as she received him.
‘How nice to see you, dear,’ she said, ‘I’m so glad you could come. This is my little boy, William. He’s been so much looking forward to your
visit. I hope you’re going to be great friends. How nice you look, dear. I wish William could only keep as clean and tidy as that. He gets so untidy.’
Georgie moved so as to get a better view of William. He looked him up and down and finally said:
‘Yes, he does look untidy, doesn’t he?’ To which momentous announcement he added complacently, ‘I hardly ever seem to get untidy.’
‘Well,’ said Mrs Brown, temporarily taken aback, ‘will you play with William till tea time, dear? . . . nothing rough , mind, William.’
‘No,’ agreed Georgie, ‘I don’t like rough games.’
William, who by this time hated Georgie with a hatred which was the more bitter because Georgie was robbing him of a whole afternoon which might have been spent with his beloved Outlaws, led
Georgie into the garden. They walked down to the bottom of the garden. Then William said distantly:
‘What would you like to play at?’
‘Don’t mind,’ said Georgie.
‘Hide an’ Seek?’ said William.
This puerile suggestion was intended as a subtle insult, but Georgie took it seriously. He considered it in silence and at last said, ‘No, thank you. Hide and Seek generally ends in
getting so rough.’
For a moment William had not believed his ears, but Georgie added calmly:
‘It generally ends by being a very nasty rough game.’
William swallowed and gazed at him helplessly. Then he suggested, more out of curiosity than from any other reason:
‘Like to play Red Indians?’
‘Red Indians?’ queried that astounding child as if he had not heard of the game before.
‘Yes,’ said William, almost speechless with amazement. ‘Scoutin’ each other through the bushes an’ makin’ a fire, an’—’
But an expression of horror had overspread Georgie’s smug countenance.
‘Oh, no ,’ he said firmly, ‘I don’t want to get my suit dirty.’
William recovered with an effort.
‘Well,’ he said at last, ‘what would you like to do?’
‘Let’s go for a nice quiet walk, shall we?’ said Georgie brightly.
So they went for a nice quiet walk – straight along the road to the village. William at first made an effort to fulfil his duties as host by pointing out the objects of interest of the
neighbourhood.
‘There’s a robin’s nest in that hedge,’ he said.
‘I know,’ said Georgie.
‘That’s Bunker’s Hill over there.’
‘I know,’ said Georgie.
‘That was a Clouded Yellow,’ as a butterfly flitted past.
‘I know.’
‘They’ve
little stranger had failed to pass with credit, had gone off for the afternoon on their own devices, leaving the little stranger to his. After wandering round the garden once and finding in it few
possibilities of amusement the little stranger had returned home – just half an hour after he had left it. Mrs Brown wasn’t going to have any more contretemps like that. So she
said very firmly, ‘ No , William.’
‘All right,’ acquiesced William with an air of weary patience, ‘I was only thinkin’ of him. I was only thinkin’ that p’raps he’d sort of enjoy it
better if there was more of us to play with.’
But Mrs Brown again said, ‘ No , William,’ meaningly, and William, who had a suspicion that she remembered their entertaining of the last little stranger, forebore to press the
point. So William was the solitary host when Georgie arrived. The prospect of being the solitary host had depressed him all morning, and the sight of Georgie’s trim little figure in its
spotless white sailor suit threw him into a state of despair that was almost homicidal in its intensity. He’d had a horrible suspicion all along that Georgie would be like that. And a whole
afternoon with him . . . a whole afternoon!
Mrs Brown, however, gave Georgie a kindly smile of welcome as she received him.
‘How nice to see you, dear,’ she said, ‘I’m so glad you could come. This is my little boy, William. He’s been so much looking forward to your
visit. I hope you’re going to be great friends. How nice you look, dear. I wish William could only keep as clean and tidy as that. He gets so untidy.’
Georgie moved so as to get a better view of William. He looked him up and down and finally said:
‘Yes, he does look untidy, doesn’t he?’ To which momentous announcement he added complacently, ‘I hardly ever seem to get untidy.’
‘Well,’ said Mrs Brown, temporarily taken aback, ‘will you play with William till tea time, dear? . . . nothing rough , mind, William.’
‘No,’ agreed Georgie, ‘I don’t like rough games.’
William, who by this time hated Georgie with a hatred which was the more bitter because Georgie was robbing him of a whole afternoon which might have been spent with his beloved Outlaws, led
Georgie into the garden. They walked down to the bottom of the garden. Then William said distantly:
‘What would you like to play at?’
‘Don’t mind,’ said Georgie.
‘Hide an’ Seek?’ said William.
This puerile suggestion was intended as a subtle insult, but Georgie took it seriously. He considered it in silence and at last said, ‘No, thank you. Hide and Seek generally ends in
getting so rough.’
For a moment William had not believed his ears, but Georgie added calmly:
‘It generally ends by being a very nasty rough game.’
William swallowed and gazed at him helplessly. Then he suggested, more out of curiosity than from any other reason:
‘Like to play Red Indians?’
‘Red Indians?’ queried that astounding child as if he had not heard of the game before.
‘Yes,’ said William, almost speechless with amazement. ‘Scoutin’ each other through the bushes an’ makin’ a fire, an’—’
But an expression of horror had overspread Georgie’s smug countenance.
‘Oh, no ,’ he said firmly, ‘I don’t want to get my suit dirty.’
William recovered with an effort.
‘Well,’ he said at last, ‘what would you like to do?’
‘Let’s go for a nice quiet walk, shall we?’ said Georgie brightly.
So they went for a nice quiet walk – straight along the road to the village. William at first made an effort to fulfil his duties as host by pointing out the objects of interest of the
neighbourhood.
‘There’s a robin’s nest in that hedge,’ he said.
‘I know,’ said Georgie.
‘That’s Bunker’s Hill over there.’
‘I know,’ said Georgie.
‘That was a Clouded Yellow,’ as a butterfly flitted past.
‘I know.’
‘They’ve
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