The Wouldbegoods: Being the Further Adventures of the Treasure Seekers, E. Nesbit [red novels .TXT] 📗

Alas! there are but too few grown-up people so far-seeing and thoughtful as this brave and distinguished officer.

We said, ‘Oh, yes’, and then we got off the wall, and that good and noble man showed us the string that moves the detonator and the breech-block (when you take it out and carry it away the gun is in vain to the enemy, even if he takes it); and he let us look down the gun to see the rifling, all clean and shiny—and he showed us the ammunition boxes, but there was nothing in them. He also told us how the gun was unlimbered (this means separating the gun from the ammunition carriage), and how quick it could be done—but he did not make the men do this then, because they were resting. There were six guns. Each had painted on the carriage, in white letters, 15 Pr., which the captain told us meant fifteen-pounder.

‘I should have thought the gun weighed more than fifteen pounds,’ Dora said. ‘It would if it was beef, but I suppose wood and gun are lighter.’

And the officer explained to her very kindly and patiently that 15 Pr. meant the gun could throw a SHELL weighing fifteen pounds.

When we had told him how jolly it was to see the soldiers go by so often, he said—

‘You won’t see us many more times. We’re ordered to the front; and we sail on Tuesday week; and the guns will be painted mud-colour, and the men will wear mud-colour too, and so shall I.’

The men looked very nice, though they were not wearing their busbies, but only Tommy caps, put on all sorts of ways.

We were very sorry they were going, but Oswald, as well as others, looked with envy on those who would soon be allowed—being grown up, and no nonsense about your education—to go and fight for their Queen and country.

Then suddenly Alice whispered to Oswald, and he said—

‘All right; but tell him yourself.’

So Alice said to the captain—

‘Will you stop next time you pass?’

He said, ‘I’m afraid I can’t promise that.’

Alice said, ‘You might; there’s a particular reason.’

He said, ‘What?’ which was a natural remark; not rude, as it is with children. Alice said—

‘We want to give the soldiers a keepsake and will write to ask my father. He is very well off just now. Look here—if we’re not on the wall when you come by, don’t stop; but if we are, please, PLEASE do!’

The officer pulled his moustache and looked as if he did not know; but at last he said ‘Yes’, and we were very glad, though but Alice and Oswald knew the dark but pleasant scheme at present fermenting in their youthful nuts.

The captain talked a lot to us. At last Noel said—

‘I think you are like Diarmid of the Golden Collar. But I should like to see your sword out, and shining in the sun like burnished silver.’

The captain laughed and grasped the hilt of his good blade. But Oswald said hurriedly—

‘Don’t. Not yet. We shan’t ever have a chance like this. If you’d only show us the pursuing practice! Albert’s uncle knows it; but he only does it on an armchair, because he hasn’t a horse.’

And that brave and swagger captain did really do it. He rode his horse right into our gate when we opened it, and showed us all the cuts, thrusts, and guards. There are four of each kind. It was splendid. The morning sun shone on his flashing blade, and his good steed stood with all its legs far apart and stiff on the lawn.

Then we opened the paddock gate, and he did it again, while the horse galloped as if upon the bloody battlefield among the fierce foes of his native land, and this was far more ripping still.

Then we thanked him very much, and he went away, taking his men with him. And the guns of course.

Then we wrote to my father, and he said ‘Yes’, as we knew he would, and next time the soldiers came by—but they had no guns this time, only the captive Arabs of the desert—we had the keepsakes ready in a wheelbarrow, and we were on the churchyard wall.

And the bold captain called an immediate halt.

Then the girls had the splendid honour and pleasure of giving a pipe and four whole ounces of tobacco to each soldier.

Then we shook hands with the captain, and the sergeant and the corporals, and the girls kissed the captain—I can’t think why girls will kiss everybody—and we all cheered for the Queen. It was grand. And I wish my father had been there to see how much you can do with L12 if you order the things from the Stores.

We have never seen those brave soldiers again.

I have told you all this to show you how we got so keen about soldiers, and why we sought to aid and abet the poor widow at the white cottage in her desolate and oppressedness.

Her name was Simpkins, and her cottage was just beyond the churchyard, on the other side from our house. On the different military occasions which I have remarked upon this widow woman stood at her garden gate and looked on. And after the cheering she rubbed her eyes with her apron. Alice noticed this slight but signifying action.

We feel quite sure Mrs Simpkins liked soldiers, and so we felt friendly to her. But when we tried to talk to her she would not. She told us to go along with us, do, and not bother her. And Oswald, with his usual delicacy and good breeding, made the others do as she said.

But we were not to be thus repulsed with impunity. We made complete but cautious inquiries, and found out that the reason she cried when she saw soldiers was that she had only one son, a boy. He was twenty-two, and he had gone to the War last April. So that she thought of him when she saw the soldiers, and that was why she cried. Because when your son is at the wars you always think he is being killed. I don’t know why. A great many of them are not. If I had a son at the wars I should never think he was dead till I heard he was, and perhaps not then, considering everything. After we had found this out we held a council.

Dora said, ‘We must do something for the soldier’s widowed mother.’

We all agreed, but added ‘What?’

Alice said, ‘The gift of money might be deemed an insult by that proud, patriotic spirit. Besides, we haven’t more than eighteenpence among us.’

We had put what we had to father’s L12 to buy the baccy and pipes.

The Mouse then said, ‘Couldn’t we make her a flannel petticoat and leave it without a word upon her doorstep?’