The Milly-Molly-Mandy Storybook Read online

  Then everybody shook hands with the Blacksmith and his Bride, and told them they certainly had been properly married, and wished them well. And the Blacksmith thanked them all heartily.

  And when it came time for Milly-Molly-Mandy and little-friend-Susan and Billy Blunt to shake hands and say thank-you-for-a-nice-wedding-party, Mr Rudge said:

  “Well, now, what sort of a wedding it would have been without you bridesmaids, and Billy Blunt to provide all our requirements out of his ample pockets, I just cannot conceive!”

  And everybody laughed, and Mr Rudge smacked Billy Blunt on the shoulder so that he nearly fell over (but it didn’t hurt him).

  So then Milly-Molly-Mandy and little-friend-Susan and Billy Blunt each knew that they had been very important indeed in helping to give Mr Rudge a really proper Blacksmith’s Wedding!

  21

  Milly-Molly-Mandy Has a New Dress

  Once upon a time Milly-Molly-Mandy was playing hide-and-seek with Toby the dog.

  First Milly-Molly-Mandy threw a stone as far as she could, and then while Toby the dog was fetching it Milly-Molly-Mandy ran the other way and hid in among the gooseberry and currant bushes or behind the wall. And then Toby the dog came to look for her. He was so clever he always found her almost at once – even when she hid in the stable where Twinkletoes the pony lived (only he was out in the meadow eating grass now).

  She shut the lower half of the stable door and kept quite quiet, but Toby the dog barked and scratched outside, and wouldn’t go away till Milly-Molly-Mandy pushed open the door and came out.

  Then Toby the dog was so pleased to see her, and so pleased with himself for finding her, that he jumped up and down on his hind legs, pawing and scratching at her skirt.

  And suddenly – rrrrrip! – there was a great big tear all the way down the front of Milly-Molly-Mandy’s pink-and-white striped cotton frock.

  “Oh dear, oh dear!” said Milly-Molly-Mandy. “Oh, Toby, just see what you’ve done now!”

  Then Toby the dog stopped jumping up and down, and he looked very sorry and ashamed of himself. So Milly-Molly-Mandy said, “All right, then! Poor Toby! You didn’t mean to do it. But whatever will Mother say? I’ll have to go and show her.”

  So Milly-Molly-Mandy, looking very solemn and holding her dress together with both hands, walked back through the barnyard where the cows were milked (only they, too, were out in the meadow eating grass now).

  Uncle was throwing big buckets of water over the floor of the cowshed, to wash it. “Now what have you been up to?” he asked, as Milly-Molly-Mandy, looking very solemn and holding her dress together with both hands, passed by.

  “I tore my dress playing with Toby, and I’m going to show Mother,” said Milly-Molly-Mandy.

  “Well, well,” said Uncle, sending another big bucketful of water swashing along over the brick floor. “Now you’ll catch it. Tell Mother to send you out to me if she wants you to get a good spanking. I’ll give you a proper one!”

  “Mother won’t let you spank me!” said Milly-Molly-Mandy (she knew Uncle was only joking). “But she won’t like having to mend such a great big tear, I expect. She mended this dress only a little while ago, and now it’s got to be done all over again. Come on, Toby.”

  So they went through the gate into the kitchen garden (where Father grew the vegetables) and in by the back door of the nice white cottage with the thatched roof where Father and Mother and Grandpa and Grandma and Uncle and Aunty and, of course, Milly-Molly-Mandy all lived together.

  “Now what’s the matter with little Millicent Margaret Amanda?” said Grandma, who was shelling peas for dinner, as Milly-Molly-Mandy came in, looking very solemn and holding her dress together with both hands.

  “I’m looking for Mother,” said Milly-Molly-Mandy.

  “She’s in the larder,” said Aunty, who was patching sheets with her machine at the kitchen table. “What have you been up to?”

  But Milly-Molly-Mandy went over to the door of the larder, where Mother was washing the shelves.

  “Mother,” said Milly-Molly-Mandy, looking very solemn and holding her dress together with both hands, “I’m dreadfully sorry, but I was playing hide-and-seek with Toby, and we tore my dress. Badly.”

  “Dear, dear, now!” said Grandma.

  “Whatever next!” said Aunty.

  “Let me have a look,” said Mother. She put down her wash-cloth and came out into the kitchen.

  Milly-Molly-Mandy took her hands away and showed her frock, with the great big tear all down the front of it.

  Mother looked at it. And then she said:

  “Well, Milly-Molly-Mandy! That just about finishes that frock! But I was afraid it couldn’t last much longer when I mended it before.”

  And Grandma said, “She had really outgrown it.”

  And Aunty said, “It was very faded.”

  And Mother said, “You will have to have a new one.”

  Milly-Molly-Mandy was pleased to think that was all they said about it. (So was Toby the dog!)

  Mother said, “You can go out in the garden and tear it all you like now, Milly-Molly-Mandy. But don’t you go tearing anything else!”

  So Milly-Molly-Mandy and Toby the dog had a fine time tearing her old dress to ribbons, so that she looked as if she had been dancing in a furze bush, Grandpa said. And then Mother sent her upstairs to change into her better frock (which was pink-and-white striped, too).

  During dinner Mother said, “I’m going to take Milly-Molly-Mandy down to the village this afternoon, to buy her some stuff for a new dress.”

  MILLY-MOLLY-MANDY SHOWED HER DRESS WITH THE TEAR ALL DOWN THE FRONT

  Father said, “I suppose that means you want some more money.” And he took some out of his trousers’ pocket and handed it over to Mother.

  Grandma said, “What about getting her something that isn’t pink-and-white striped, just for a change?”

  Grandpa said, “Let’s have flowers instead of stripes this time.”

  Aunty said, “Something with daisies on would look nice.”

  Uncle said, “Oh, let’s go gay while we are about it, and have magenta roses and yellow sunflowers – eh, Milly-Molly-Mandy?”

  But Milly-Molly-Mandy said, “I don’t ’spect Miss Muggins keeps that sort of stuff in her shop, so then I can’t have it!”

  After dinner Milly-Molly-Mandy helped Mother to wash up the plates and things, and then Mother changed her dress, and they put on their hats, and Mother took her handbag, and they went together down the road with the hedges each side towards the village.

  They passed the Moggs’ cottage, where little-friend-Susan lived. Little-friend-Susan was helping her baby sister to make mud pies on the step.

  “Hullo, Susan,” said Milly-Molly-Mandy. “We’re going to buy me some different new dress stuff at Miss Muggins’ shop, because I tore my other one!”

  “Are you? How nice! What colour are you going to have this time?” asked little-friend-Susan.

  “We don’t know yet, but it will be something quite different,” said Milly-Molly-Mandy.

  They passed the Forge, where Mr Rudge the Blacksmith and his new boy were making a big fire over an iron hoop which, when it was red-hot, they were going to fit round a broken cart-wheel to mend it. Milly-Molly-Mandy wanted to stay and watch, but Mother said she hadn’t time.

  So Milly-Molly-Mandy just called out to Mr Rudge, “We’re going to buy some different-coloured dress stuff, because I tore my other one!”

  And Mr Rudge stopped to wipe his hot face on his torn shirt sleeve, and said, “Well, if they’d buy us different-coloured shirts every time we tear ours, you’d see us going about like a couple of rainbows! Eh, Reginald?”

  And the new boy grinned as he piled more brushwood on the fire. (He’d got a tear in his shirt too.)

  They passed Mr Blunt’s corn-shop, where Billy Blunt was polishing up his new second-hand bicycle, which his father had just given him, on the pavement outside.

  Milly-Molly-
Mandy and Mother stopped a minute to admire its shininess (which was almost like new). And then Milly-Molly-Mandy said, “We’re going to buy me some different-coloured dress stuff, because I tore my other!”

  But Billy Blunt wasn’t very interested (he was just testing his front brake).

  Then they came to Miss Muggins’ shop.

  And just as they got up to the door so did two other people, coming from the other way. One was an old lady in a black cloak and bonnet, and one was a little girl in a faded flowered dress, with a ribbon round her hair. Mother pushed open the shop door for the old lady and set the little bell jangling above, and they all went in together, so that the shop seemed quite full of people, with Miss Muggins behind the counter too.

  Miss Muggins didn’t know quite whom to serve first. She looked towards the old lady, and the old lady looked towards Mother, and Mother said, “No, you first.”

  So then the old lady said, “I would like to see something for a dress for a little girl, if you please – something light and summery.”

  And Mother said, “That is exactly what I am wanting, too.”

  So then Miss Muggins brought out the different stuffs from her shelves for both her customers to choose from together.

  Milly-Molly-Mandy looked at the little girl. She thought she had seen her before. Surely it was the new little girl who had lately come to Milly-Molly-Mandy’s school. Only she was in the “baby class”, so they hadn’t talked together yet.

  The little girl looked at Milly-Molly-Mandy. And presently she pulled at the old lady’s arm and whispered something, whereupon the old lady turned and smiled at Milly-Molly-Mandy, so Milly-Molly-Mandy smiled back.

  Milly-Molly-Mandy whispered up at Mother (looking at the little girl). “She comes to our school!”

  So then Mother smiled at the little girl. And the old lady and Mother began to talk together as they looked at Miss Muggins’ stuffs. And Milly-Molly-Mandy and the little girl began to talk too, as they waited.

  Milly-Molly-Mandy found out that the little girl was called Bunchy, and the old lady was her grandmother, and they lived together in a little cottage quite a long way from the school and the crossroads, in the other direction from Milly-Molly-Mandy’s.

  Bunchy hadn’t come to school before because she couldn’t walk so far. But now she was bigger, and Granny walked with her half the way and she ran the rest by herself. She liked coming to school, but she had never played with other little girls and boys before, and it all felt very strange and rather frightening. So then Milly-Molly-Mandy said they should look out for each other at school next Monday, and play together during play-time. And she told her about little-friend-Susan, and Billy Blunt, and Miss Muggins’ Jilly, and other friends at school.

  Then Mother said to Miss Muggins, “And this is all you have in the way of printed cottons? Well, now, I wonder, Milly-Molly-Mandy.”

  And Bunchy’s Grandmother said, “Look here, Bunchy, my dear.”

  So they both went up to the counter.

  There was a light blue silky stuff which Mother and Bunchy’s Grandmother said was “not serviceable”. And a stuff with scarlet poppies and corn-flowers all over it which they said was “not suitable”. And there was a green chintz stuff which they said was too thick. And a yellow muslin which they said was too thin. And there was a stuff with little bunches of daisies and forget-me-nots on it. And a big roll of pink-and-white striped cotton. And there was nothing more (except flannelette or bolton-sheeting and that sort of thing, which wouldn’t do at all).

  Milly-Molly-Mandy thought the one with daisies and forget-me-nots was much the prettiest. So did Bunchy. Milly-Molly-Mandy thought a dress of that would be a very nice change.

  But Miss Muggins said, “I’m afraid I have only this short length left, and I don’t know when I shall be having any more in.”

  So Mother and Bunchy’s Grandmother spread it out, and there was really only just enough to make one little frock. Bunchy’s Grandmother turned to look at the pink-and-white striped stuff.

  Bunchy said, “That’s Milly-Molly-Mandy’s stuff, isn’t it? It’s just like the dress she has on.”

  Milly-Molly-Mandy said, “Do you always have flowers on your dresses?”

  “Yes,” said Bunchy, “because of my name, you know. I’m Violet Rosemary May, but Granny calls me Bunchy for short.”

  Milly-Molly-Mandy said to Mother, “She ought to have that stuff with the bunches of flowers on, oughtn’t she? The striped one wouldn’t really suit her so well as me, would it?”

  Mother said, “Well, Milly-Molly-Mandy, we do know this striped stuff suits you all right, and it washes and wears well. I’m afraid that blue silky stuff doesn’t look as if it would wash, and the yellow muslin wouldn’t wear. So perhaps you’d better have the same again. I’ll take two yards of this striped, please, Miss Muggins.”

  Milly-Molly-Mandy looked once more at the flowery stuff, and she said, “It is pretty, isn’t it! But if Bunchy comes to school I can see it on her, can’t I?”

  Bunchy’s Grandmother said, “It would be very nice if you could come and see it on Bunchy at home too! If Mother would bring you to tea one Saturday, if you don’t mind rather a walk, you could play in the garden with Bunchy, and I’m sure we should both be very pleased indeed, shouldn’t we, Bunchy?”

  Bunchy said, “Yes! We should!”

  Mother said, “Thank you very much. We should like to come” – though she had not much time for going out to tea as a rule, but she was sure Aunty would get tea for them all at home for once.

  So it was settled for them to go next Saturday, and the little girl called Bunchy was very pleased indeed about it, and so was Milly-Molly-Mandy.

  Then Miss Muggins handed over the counter the two parcels, and Milly-Molly-Mandy and Bunchy each carried her own dress stuff home.

  And when Milly-Molly-Mandy opened her parcel to show Father and Grandpa and Grandma and Uncle and Aunty what had been bought for her new dress after all, there was a beautiful shiny red ribbon there too, which Mother had bought to tie round Milly-Molly-Mandy’s hair when she wore the new dress. So that would make quite a nice change, anyhow.

  And as little-friend-Susan said, if Milly-Molly-Mandy didn’t wear her pink-and-white stripes people might not know her at once.

  And that would be a pity!

  About the Author

  Joyce Lankester Brisley was born over a hundred years ago, on 6 February 1896. She had two sisters: an elder one, Ethel, and Nina, who was just a year younger than Joyce. The family lived in Bexhill-on-Sea in Sussex, in a house so close to the sea that when there was a very high tide the waves would come right into the garden. Joyce’s father ran a chemist’s shop in the town. Her mother enjoyed drawing and painting, but had to spend most of her time looking after the home and her children.

  Joyce and her sisters were all good at art, like their mother, and went to evening classes at Hastings School of Art, taking the train there and back along the coast. By the time they were teenagers, “Eth” (as Ethel was always known in the family) was having her pictures accepted for exhibitions at the Royal Academy in London and was soon selling paintings as a result. Then, through a friend, the girls were invited to meet Miss Brown of the magazine Home Chat. They quickly began to do illustrations for this magazine, so for the first time all three sisters started to earn money for themselves.

  This money was soon to become very important for the family. In 1912, when Joyce was sixteen, her parents separated. In her diary (writing in French as if to keep it a secret) she recorded that her father wanted his family to leave the house. They stayed until Joyce and Nina had finished their term at art school, then the three girls moved with their mother to South London, where Eth had found them a tiny flat.

  In London, Joyce and Nina enrolled at the Lambeth School of Art in 1912 – an uncle kindly agreed to pay the fees for both girls. They studied there five days a week for two years. In 1913 they moved to a house with a large room that the three girls co
uld use as a studio.

  The outbreak of the First World War in 1914 meant that food was scarce. Their mother had to spend a lot of time searching for meat and vegetables she could afford, while the girls worked hard earning money from illustrations for magazines, newspapers and advertisements. Joyce writes in her diary about drawing advertisements for Cherry Blossom boot polish and Mansion floor polish. She also writes about the German bombing raids on London – describing how, in September 1916, the sister had to get up in the middle of the night and go downstairs for safety, still in their nightclothes and bedtime plaits.

  Despite the war and constant worries about money, family life continued happily throughout this time. In 1917 Joyce records in her diary that Nina (daringly) wanted to cut her hair short, and Eth longed to do the same, but Joyce felt “I couldn’t – it wouldn’t suit me well at all”. The sisters obviously got along very well together, but nevertheless Joyce wished she had some privacy. She was delighted when, shortly after her twenty-first birthday, she was able to have a room of her own – “My longing, for years and years.”

  In 1918 they all moved again, to a house with a larger studio. Joyce went with her mother and sisters to the local Christian Science Church. There they met an artist who worked for The Christian Science Monitor. As a result, both Joyce and Nina began submitting stories and drawings to the paper, and it was on the Children’s Page in October 1925 that the first story about Milly-Molly-Mandy appeared. The idea had come into Joyce’s mind one day when “the sun was shining and I longed to be out in the country instead of sitting indoors all day, earning a living . . .”

  Milly-Molly-Mandy was an immediate success and soon began to gain a strong following among readers. Joyce records that:

  “. . . boys and girls began writing letters to the paper, to the editors and to Milly-Molly-Mandy herself, wanting to know more about her, asking, Could she come for a holiday by the sea? Could she have a baby sister to take out riding in the pram? (She couldn’t, as she was an ‘only’ child, but little-friend-Susan could, and did.) Some of the letters enclosed foreign stamps for Billy Blunt’s collection (so generous!). One boy wrote all the way from Australia to tell me that ‘Father’ was shown digging with his wrong foot on the spade (for it seems the left foot is the right foot for digging with!). I wrote back to thank him and promised to alter the drawing before it went into a book – as you may see I did, for it’s nice to get things quite correct.”