Further Doings of Milly-Molly-Mandy Read online

Page 5


  Milly-Molly-Mandy didn’t want to come out a bit, but Billy Blunt wanted to put his bedding in.

  “Isn’t it beautiful! Where did you get it, Billy?” she asked.

  “My cousin gave it to me,” said Billy Blunt. “Used it when he went cycling holidays. He’s got a new one now. I put that patch on, myself.”

  Milly-Molly-Mandy thought she could have done it better; but still it was quite good for a boy, so she duly admired it, and offered to mend the other place. But Billy Blunt didn’t think it was worth it, as it would only tear away again – and he liked a bit of air, anyhow.

  “Shan’t you feel funny out here all by yourself when everybody else is asleep?” said Milly-Molly-Mandy. “Oh, I wish I had a tent too!” Then she said goodbye, and ran with Toby the dog back home to the nice white cottage with the thatched roof, thinking of the tent all the way.

  She didn’t see little-friend-Susan as she passed the Moggs’ cottage along the road; but when she got as far as the meadow she saw her swinging her baby sister on the big gate.

  “Hullo, Milly-Molly-Mandy! I was just looking for you,” said little-friend-Susan, lifting Baby Moggs down. And Milly-Molly-Mandy told her all about Billy Blunt’s new tent, and how he was going to sleep out, and how she wished she had a tent too.

  Little-friend-Susan was almost as interested as Milly-Molly-Mandy. “Can’t we make a tent and play in it in your meadow?” she said. “It would be awful fun!”

  So they got some bean poles and bits of sacking from the barn and dragged them down into the meadow. And they had great fun that day trying to make a tent; only they couldn’t get it to stay up properly.

  Next morning little-friend-Susan came to play “tents” in the meadow again. And this time they tried with an old counterpane, which Mother had given them, and two kitchen chairs; and they managed to rig up quite a good tent by laying the poles across the chair-backs and draping the counterpane over. They fastened down the spread-out sides with stones; and the ends, where the chairs were, they hung with sacks. And there they had a perfectly good tent, really quite big enough for two – so long as the two were small, and didn’t mind being a bit crowded!

  They were just sitting in it, eating apples and pretending they had no other home to live in, when they heard a “Hi!”-ing from the gate; and when they peeped out there was Billy Blunt, with a great bundle in his arms, trying to get the gate open. So they ran across the grass and opened it for him.

  “What have you got? Is it your tent? Did you sleep out last night?” asked Milly-Molly-Mandy.

  “Look here,” said Billy Blunt, “do you think your father would mind, supposing I pitched my tent in your field? My folk don’t like it in our garden – say it looks too untidy.”

  Milly-Molly-Mandy was quite sure Father wouldn’t mind. So Billy Blunt put the bundle down inside the gate and went off to ask (for of course you never camp anywhere without saying “please” to the owner first). And Father didn’t mind a bit, so long as no papers or other rubbish were left about.

  So Billy Blunt set up his tent near the others’, which was not too far from the nice white cottage with the thatched roof (because it’s funny what a long way off from everybody you feel when you’ve got only a tent round you at night!). And then he went home to fetch his other goods; and Milly-Molly-Mandy and little-friend-Susan sat in his tent, and wished and wished that their mothers would let them sleep out in the meadow that night.

  When Billy Blunt came back with his rugs and things (loaded up on his box on wheels) they asked him if it were a very creepy-feeling to sleep out of doors.

  And Billy Blunt (having slept out once) said, “Oh, you soon get used to it,” and asked why they didn’t try it in their tent.

  So then Milly-Molly-Mandy and little-friend-Susan looked at each other, and said firmly, “Let’s ask!” So little-friend-Susan went with Milly-Molly-Mandy up to the nice white cottage with the thatched roof, where Mother was just putting a treacle-tart into the oven.

  She looked very doubtful when Milly-Molly-Mandy told her what they wanted to do. Then she shut the oven door, and wiped her hands, and said, well, she would just come and look at the tent they had made first. And when she had looked and considered, she said, well, if it were still very fine and dry by the evening perhaps Milly-Molly-Mandy might sleep out there, just for once. And Mother found a rubber ground-sheet and some old blankets and cushions, and gave them to her.

  Then Milly-Molly-Mandy went with little-friend-Susan to the Moggs’ cottage, where Mrs Moggs was just putting their potatoes on to boil.

  She looked very doubtful at first; and then she said, well, if Milly-Molly-Mandy’s mother had been out to see, and thought it was all right, and if it were a very nice, fine evening, perhaps little-friend-Susan might sleep out, just for once.

  So all the rest of that day the three were very busy, making preparations and watching the sky. And when they all went home for supper the evening was beautifully still and warm, and without a single cloud.

  So, after supper, they all met together again in the meadow, in the sunset. And they shut and tied up the meadow gate. (It was all terribly exciting!)

  And Mother came out, with Father and Grandpa and Grandma and Uncle and Aunty, to see that all was right, and their ground-sheets well spread under their bedding.

  Then Milly-Molly-Mandy and little-friend-Susan crawled into their tent, and Billy Blunt crawled into his tent. And presently Milly-Molly-Mandy crawled out again in her pyjamas, and ran about with bare feet on the grass with Toby the dog; and then little-friend-Susan and Billy Blunt, in their pyjamas, crawled out and ran about too (because it feels so very nice, and so sort of new, to be running about under the sky in your pyjamas!).

  And Father and Mother and Grandpa and Grandma and Uncle and Aunty laughed, and looked on as if they wouldn’t mind doing it too, if they weren’t so grown up.

  Then Mother said, “Now I think it’s time you campers popped into bed. Goodnight!” And they went off home.

  So Milly-Molly-Mandy and little-friend-Susan called “Goodnight!” and crawled into one tent, and Billy Blunt caught Toby the dog and crawled into the other.

  And the trees outside grew slowly blacker and blacker until they couldn’t be seen at all; and the owls hooted; and a far-away cow mooed; and now and then Toby the dog wuffed, because he thought he heard a rabbit; and sometimes Milly-Molly-Mandy or little-friend-Susan squeaked, because they thought they felt a spider walking on them. And once Billy Blunt called out to ask if they were still awake, and they said they were, and was he? and he said of course he was.

  THEN LITTLE-FRIEND-SUSAN AND BILLY BLUNT CRAWLED OUT

  And then at last they all fell fast asleep.

  And in no time at all the sun was shining through their tents, telling them to wake up and come out, because it was the next day.

  And Billy Blunt and Milly-Molly-Mandy and little-friend-Susan DID enjoy that camping-out night!

  11

  Milly-Molly-Mandy Keeps House

  Once upon a time Milly-Molly-Mandy was left one evening in the nice white cottage with the thatched roof to keep house.

  There was something called a political meeting being held in the next village (Milly-Molly-Mandy didn’t know quite what that meant, but it was something to do with voting, which was something you had to do when you grew up), and Father and Mother and Grandpa and Grandma and Uncle and Aunty all thought they ought to go to it.

  Milly-Molly-Mandy said she would not mind one bit being left, especially if she could have little-friend-Susan in to keep her company.

  So Mother said, “Very well then, Milly-Molly-Mandy, we’ll have little-friend-Susan in to keep you company. And you needn’t open the door if anyone knocks unless you know who it is. And I’ll leave you out some supper, in case we may be a little late getting back.”

  Little-friend-Susan was only too pleased to come and spend the evening with Milly-Molly-Mandy. So after tea she came in; and then Father and Mother and Grandpa and Gr
andma and Uncle and Aunty put on their hats and coats, and said goodbye, and went off.

  And Milly-Molly-Mandy and little-friend-Susan shut the door carefully after them, and there they were, all by themselves, keeping house!

  “What fun!” said little-friend-Susan. “What’ll we do?”

  “Well,” said Milly-Molly-Mandy, “if we’re housekeepers I think we ought to wear aprons.”

  So they each tied on one of Mother’s aprons.

  And then little-friend-Susan said, “Now if we’ve got aprons on we ought to work.”

  So Milly-Molly-Mandy fetched a dustpan and brush and swept up some crumbs from the floor; and little-friend-Susan folded the newspaper that was lying all anyhow by Grandpa’s chair and put it neatly on the shelf. And then they banged the cushions and straightened the chairs, feeling very housekeeperish indeed.

  Then little-friend-Susan looked at the plates of bread-and-dripping on the table, with the jug of milk and two little mugs. And she said, “What’s that for?”

  And Milly-Molly-Mandy said, “That’s for our supper. But it isn’t time to eat it yet. Mother says we can warm the milk on the stove, if we like, in a saucepan.”

  “What fun!” said little-friend-Susan. “Then we’ll be cooks. Couldn’t we do something to the bread-and-dripping too?”

  So Milly-Molly-Mandy looked at the bread-and-dripping thoughtfully, and then she said, “We could toast it – at the fire!”

  “Oh, yes!” said little-friend-Susan. And then she said, “Oughtn’t we to begin doing it now? It takes quite a long time to cook things.”

  So Milly-Molly-Mandy said, “Let’s!” and fetched a saucepan, and little-friend-Susan took up the jug of milk, and then – suddenly – “Bang-bang-bang!” went the door knocker, ever so loudly.

  “Ooh!” said little-friend-Susan, “that did make me jump! I wonder who it is!”

  “Ooh!” said Milly-Molly-Mandy. “We mustn’t open the door unless we know. I wonder who it can be!”

  So together they went to the door, and Milly-Molly-Mandy put her mouth to the letter-box and said politely, “Please, who are you, please?”

  Nobody spoke for a moment; and then a funny sort of voice outside said very gruffly, “I’m Mr Snooks.”

  And directly they heard that Milly-Molly-Mandy and little-friend-Susan looked at each other and said both together – “It’s Billy Blunt!” And they unlocked the door and pulled it open.

  And there was Billy Blunt standing grinning on the doorstep!

  Milly-Molly-Mandy held the door wide for him to come in, and she said, “Did you think we didn’t know you?”

  And little-friend-Susan said, “You did give us a jump!” And Billy Blunt came in, grinning all over his face.

  “We’re all alone,” said Milly-Molly-Mandy. “We’re keeping house.”

  “Look at our aprons,” said little-friend-Susan. “We’re going to cook our suppers.”

  “Come on,” said Milly-Molly-Mandy, “and we’ll give you some. May you stop?”

  Billy Blunt let them pull him into the kitchen, and then he said he’d seen Father and Mother and Grandpa and Grandma and Uncle and Aunty as they went past the corn-shop to the crossroads, and Mother had told him they were alone, and that he could go and have a game with them if he liked. So he thought he’d come and give them a jump.

  “Take your coat off, because it’s hot in here,” said Milly-Molly-Mandy. “Now we must get on with the cooking. Come on, Susan!”

  So they put the milk into the saucepan on the back of the stove, and then they each took a piece of bread-and-dripping on a fork, to toast it.

  But it wasn’t a very good “toasting fire” (or else there were too many people trying to toast at the same time). Billy Blunt began to think it was rather long to wait, and he looked at the frying-pan on the side of the stove (in which Mother always cooked the breakfast bacon), and said, “Why not put ’em in there and fry ’em up?”

  Milly-Molly-Mandy and little-friend-Susan thought that was a splendid idea; so they fried all the bread-and-dripping nice and brown (and it did smell good!). When they had done it there was just a little fat left in the pan, so they looked round for something else to cook.

  “I’ll go and see if there’re any odd bits of bread in the bread-crock,” said Milly-Molly-Mandy. “We mustn’t cut any, because I’m not allowed to use the bread-knife yet.”

  So she went into the scullery to look, and there were one or two dry pieces in the bread-crock. But she found something else, and that was – a big basket of onions! Then Milly-Molly-Mandy gave a little squeal because she had a good idea, and she took out a small onion (she knew she might, because they had lots, and Father grew them) and ran back into the kitchen with it.

  And Billy Blunt, with his scout’s knife, peeled it and sliced it into the pan (and the onion made him cry like anything!); and then Milly-Molly-Mandy fried it on the stove (and the onion made her cry like anything!) and then little-friend-Susan, who didn’t want to be out of any fun stirred it up, with her head well over the pan (and the onion made her cry like anything too! – at least, she managed to get one small tear out).

  AND THE ONIONS SMELT MOST DELICIOUS!

  And the onion smelt most delicious, all over the kitchen – only it would seem to cook all black or else not at all. But you can’t think how good it tasted, spread on slices of fried bread!

  They all sat on the hearthrug before the fire, with plates on their laps and mugs by their sides, and divided everything as evenly as possible. And they only wished there was more of everything (for of course Mother hadn’t thought of Billy Blunt when she cut the bread-and-dripping).

  When they had just finished the last crumb the door opened and Father and Mother and Grandpa and Grandma and Uncle and Aunty came in. And they all said together, “Whatever’s all this smell of fried onions?”

  So Milly-Molly-Mandy explained, and when Mother had looked at the frying-pan to see that it wasn’t burnt (and it wasn’t) she only laughed and opened the window.

  And Father said, “Well, this smell makes me feel very hungry. Can’t we have some fried onions for supper too, Mother?”

  Then, before Father took little-friend-Susan and Billy Blunt home, Mother gave them all a piece of currant cake with which to finish their supper; and then she started frying a panful of onions for the grown-up supper.

  And Milly-Molly-Mandy (when she had said goodbye to little-friend-Susan and Billy Blunt) watched Mother very carefully, so that she should know how to fry quite properly next time she was left to keep house!

  12

  Milly-Molly-Mandy Goes Carol-Singing

  Once upon a time Milly-Molly-Mandy heard some funny sounds coming from the little garden at the side of Mr Blunt’s corn-shop.

  So she looked over the palings, and what should she see but Billy Blunt, looking very solemn and satisfied, blowing away on a big new shiny mouth-organ!

  Milly-Molly-Mandy said, “Hullo, Billy!” And Billy Blunt blew “Hullo!” into his mouth-organ (at least, Milly-Molly-Mandy guessed it was that), and went on playing. Milly-Molly-Mandy waited a bit and listened, and suddenly she found she knew what he was playing. “It’s Good King Wenceslas!” said Milly-Molly-Mandy, “Isn’t it? Can I have a go soon?”

  “I’m practising,” said Billy Blunt, stopping for a moment and then going on again.

  “Practising what?” said Milly-Molly-Mandy.

  “Carols,” said Billy Blunt.

  “What for?” said Milly-Molly-Mandy.

  “Don’t know,” said Billy Blunt, “only it’s Christmas time.”

  “Then we could go caroling!” said Milly-Molly-Mandy, with a sudden thought. “You could play on your mouth-organ, and I could sing. We could do it outside people’s houses on Christmas Eve. Ooh, let’s!”

  But Billy Blunt only said “Huh!” and went on blowing his mouth-organ. But he did it rather thoughtfully.

  Milly-Molly-Mandy waited a bit longer, and then she was just going to say goodbye when B
illy Blunt said, “Here! You can have a go if you want to.”

  So Milly-Molly-Mandy, very pleased, took the mouth organ and wiped it on her skirt, and had quite a good “go” (and Billy Blunt knew she was playing God Save the King). And then she wiped it again and gave it back saying, “Goodbye, Billy. Don’t forget about the carol-singing,” and went on homeward up the white road with the hedges each side.

  A few days later (it was the day before Christmas Eve) Billy Blunt came up to the nice white cottage with the thatched roof, where Milly-Molly-Mandy lived, to bring a bag of meal which Uncle had ordered from Mr Blunt’s corn-shop for his chickens. Milly-Molly-Mandy was watching Father cut branches of holly from the holly-tree; but when she saw Billy Blunt she thought of the carols, and came running down to the path.

  “I say,” said Billy Blunt. “About that carol-singing.”

  “Yes!” said Milly-Molly-Mandy. “Have you been practising hard?”

  “Mmm,” said Billy Blunt, “I thought we might try ’em over now, if you’re still keen on it. Where’ll we do it?”

  So Milly-Molly-Mandy led the way to the barn; and there in private they made plans and tried over one or two songs. They couldn’t do Hark the Herald Angels Sing or Christians Awake, as the top notes in both of them went beyond the top of the mouth-organ and Billy Blunt wouldn’t sing the top notes, because he said it didn’t sound proper. But he could play Noël and While Shepherds Watched and Wenceslas beautifully. So Milly-Molly-Mandy sang while Billy Blunt played, until they could do it together quite nicely.