Penelope and the Others, Amy Walton [best interesting books to read .TXT] 📗

stands in the door of the rag-and-bone shop at Nearminster."

Pennie could not help striking in at this point. "He doesn't look rich," she said, "but I dare say he's got hoards buried in his garden."

"He hasn't got a garden," objected Nancy.

"Well, then, in his chimney, or perhaps sewn up in his mattress," she answered.

"If that's all he does with it he might just as well be poor," said David.

"But he isn't a poor man for all that," said Nancy, "if he's got a mattress full of gold."

Ambrose became silent as the dispute about the poverty or wealth of Mr Levi proceeded, and presently, edging close up to Pennie, who was a little behind the others, he said wistfully:

"I say, Pennie, I want to ask you something."

"Well," said his sister rather unwillingly. "Suppose--you found something," began Ambrose with an effort.

"What sort of thing?"

"Oh, something valuable," said Ambrose, thinking of the glittering gold coins.

"What then?" asked Pennie, looking at him with a little more interest.

"What would you do with it?" continued Ambrose earnestly.

"Do with it!" repeated his sister. "Why, I should give it back to the person who lost it, of course."

"But suppose you couldn't find out who it belonged to, or suppose the people were dead."

Pennie was tired of supposing.

"Oh! I should ask mother what to do," she said, dismissing the question. "I can hear the band," she suddenly added.

Ambrose gave a little sigh, as all the children quickened their footsteps at this welcome sound.

There was no advice to be got from Pennie. He must shake off the thought of his tiresome secret and enjoy himself as much as he could to-day. Afterwards there would be time to trouble about it. And now they were getting quite near to the tents and flags and gaily-painted caravans and confused noises of men and beasts. Nurse seized Dickie's unwilling hand as they reached the turnstile which admitted them into the field.

"Keep close together, my dears," she said anxiously. "You stay along with me, Miss Pennie, and Miss Nancy and Jane, you come after me with the other two."

She looked distractedly at the little faces smiling with delight and eager to plunge into the pleasures of the fair. Since Dickie had once run away quite alone to go to the circus she had always been more nervous about the children.

"Jane," she said sharply to the small nursery-maid, "what are you gaping at? Keep your wits about you, do."

Jane, who had never been inside a fair before, was gazing open-mouthed at an enormous portrait of the "Living Skeleton." She turned to Nurse with a face from which all expression had gone but one of intense surprise.

"You're not a bit of use," said Nurse. "See here, Master David, I can depend on _you_. Keep with Master Ambrose and Jane as close to me as you can. And if you lose sight of me in the crowd be at the gate by four o'clock and wait there for the carriage."

David nodded, and Nurse, with one more severe look at Jane, plunged into the crowd with Dickie toddling beside her.

How gay, how enchanting it all was! Boom, boom went the drums. "Walk in, ladies and gentlemen. Here you will see the performing seal, the Circassian beauty, the Chinese giant, and the smallest dwarf in the world." Next to those attractions came the circus, outside of which, on a raised platform, stood harlequin, clown, and columbine, all in a row, and in full dress.

"Here we are again," cried the clown. "How are you to-morrow?"

How kind and inviting all the showmen were! Bang! Bang! "Two shots with a rifle for a penny. Who'll win a cocoa-nut?" "This way for Signor Antonio, the famous lion-tamer!" And so on, till the brain reeled, and choice amongst all these excitements became almost impossible.

Mother had given money for one entertainment, and the children had agreed beforehand that the wild-beast show would be far the best to see, but now that they were in the midst of the fair they began to waver. It was painful to think that whichever entertainment they fixed on the others might be better. On one point Nurse was firm. Wherever they went they must all go together, and at last, after a harassing consultation and some difference of opinion, it was decided that on the whole the menagerie would be best.

"Though I did want," said David, rather regretfully, as they entered, "to see that performing pig who knows his letters and dances a hornpipe."

The wild-beast show over, there remained a great deal to be seen outside; and now in the bustle and struggle of the narrow ways the party became separated, the three little girls remaining with Nurse and the boys with Jane.

"And I hope to goodness," said Nurse anxiously, "that Jane won't lose her head. Master David's there--that's one comfort. No, Miss Dickie, you don't let go of my hand for one minute, so it's no good pulling at me."

Up till now Pennie had had no difficulty in keeping her money in her pocket, for she had seen nothing she specially wanted to buy. Nancy had spent hers before she had been five minutes in the fair, had won a cocoa-nut, and was now hugging it triumphantly under her arm. No doubt Ambrose and David would also part with theirs before long.

"There's a funny stall," said Nancy suddenly, "nothing but rubbishing old books."

"Let's go and look at it," said Pennie.

They were very shabby old books indeed. Some of them with cracked bindings and the letters on the backs rubbed off; others with no binding at all, in soiled paper covers. There were piles and piles of them, not neatly arranged, but tossed about anyhow, and behind the stall stood an old man with a withered face and a pointed chin--a sort of wizard old man, Pennie thought. Nancy seemed struck with his appearance too.

"He's just like pantaloon, isn't he?" she said in a loud whisper as they stopped in front of the stall.

The old man peered sharply at the two little girls over the open book he held in his hand.

"What do you want, Missie?" he asked in a cracked voice.

"We don't want anything, thank you," said Pennie politely. "What a lot of old books you have!"

"Ah! they're too old for such as you," said the old man, glancing at the watchful form of Nurse in the background; "but I've got a pretty one somewheres that'd just suit you."

"Come along, do, Miss Pennie," said Nurse entreatingly, "there's nothing like old books for fevers."

But the old man had dived beneath his stall, and now produced a book on which Pennie's eyes were immediately fastened with the deepest interest.

"There!" he said, laying it before her, "there's the book to suit you, my little lady." It was a square book in a gaily-coloured parchment cover, somewhat faded, but still showing attractive devices of shields, swords, and dragons. On it was emblazoned in old English letters the title, "_Siegfried the Dragon Slayer_."

Pennie gazed at it in silent rapture.

"Full of 'lustrations," continued the old man slowly turning the leaves, and leaving it open to display a picture.

Pennie and Nancy both bent over it. It was a wonderful picture. There was a man with wings on his shoulders flying high up above a great city, and shooting arrows from a bow at the crowd of people beneath. How did he get wings? Who was he?

Pennie cast her eyes hurriedly on the next page to find out, but before she could master one sentence the old man turned over the leaf; "That's the book for you, Missie," he repeated, "you're a scholard, I can see that."

Much flattered, Pennie asked quickly, "Does it cost much?"

"Dirt cheap," said the old man. "I'll let _you_ have it for eighteenpence."

Pennie had exactly that sum in her purse. "Do come away, Miss Pennie," said Nurse's voice behind her.

"Why don't you buy it?" said Nancy; "you won't have such a chance again."

Pennie gulped down a sort of sob. "I should love to," she said, "but I want to keep my money."

"Well, if you're not going to buy, you'd better not look at it any more," said Nancy; "I haven't got any money."

With an immense effort, and a parting glance full of affection at "_Siegfried the Dragon Slayer_," Pennie turned away from the stall, much to Nurse's relief. Soon the old man and his books were lost to sight, but they remained very clearly and distinctly in Pennie's mind. She saw the picture of that flying man more vividly than all that was going on round her, and would have given worlds to be acquainted with his history. If only she had more money, enough to buy the book and the mandarin too!

Then she began to wonder how the boys had spent theirs. No doubt they had bought just what had taken their fancy, and she would be the only one to go back empty-handed. It was a little hard. The only drop of comfort in it was that she would be able to tell them what a real sacrifice she had made. Yesterday she had seen David writing ten times over in his copy-book, "_Virtue is its own reward_." If that meant feeling good, better than other people, Pennie had no doubt she was tasting the reward of virtue now, and it consoled her not a little for the loss of "_Siegfried the Dragon Slayer_."

It was now nearly four o'clock, and Nurse was not sorry to turn towards the entrance, where Andrew was to wait with the carriage, and where she hoped to join the boys and Jane.

"They're there already," cried Nancy as they approached the turnstile, bobbing her head from side to side to see through the crowd, "and oh! what _has_ David got?"

Nurse groaned.

"Something he oughtn't to have, I make sure," she said.

"It's something alive!" exclaimed Nancy, giving a leap of delight as they got nearer, "I can see it move. Whatever is it?"

David was standing as still as a sentinel with his back against the gate-post and a look of triumph on his face, clutching firmly to his breast a small jet-black kitten. It was mewing piteously, with some reason--for in his determination not to let it go, he gripped it hard, so that it was spread out flat and could hardly breathe. The children gathered round him in an ecstasy.

"What a little black love!" exclaimed Nancy; "where did you get it?"

"I saved its life," was all David answered as Nurse packed them all into the waggonette.

"I helped," said Ambrose.

It was not until they were fairly on their way and had shaken down into something like composure, that the history of the kitten could be told. It then appeared that David and Ambrose had heard feeble cries proceeding from a retired corner behind a caravan. They had at once left Jane, and gone to see what it was.