Читать книгу A Bag Of Moonshine - Alan Garner, Alan Garner - Страница 7

Mr and Mrs Vinegar lived in a vinegar bottle, and one day Mrs Vinegar was sweeping the house so hard she broke it all to bits.

“Eh dear,” said Mr Vinegar when he came home. “Smashed to smithereens. But never mind.” And he picked up the door of the house, and set it on his back and marched off with Mrs Vinegar into the world to mend their fortunes.

After a while, they came to a wood, and a thick dark wood it was, too, by all accounts, with wolves and bears and suchlike in it; and Mr and Mrs Vinegar didn’t fancy spending the night there; they did not. So they marched up into a tree, with their door, and settled themselves to sleep in the branches.

Well, they hadn’t been there long when what should happen but a gang of robbers sat down at the bottom of the tree and started to share out the money they’d got from robbing people and cutting their throats. “Here’s a guinea for you,” one was saying, and, “No, it isn’t,” says another, “that’s mine;” and another, “It never is,” he says, “just you give it here!” and so on, till they were fighting and making such a row that Mr and Mrs Vinegar, up in the tree, didn’t know what to do. They shook and they shook. They trembled and they trembled; and they trembled the door right out of the tree down on to the robbers’ heads; and the robbers, they ran off, hall scared to death.

But Mr and Mrs Vinegar didn’t dare to come down from that tree until daylight. Then Mr Vinegar picked up the door to set it on his back and march off to mend their fortunes; and what should he see under that door but a heap of golden guineas that the robbers had left behind them.

“Eh dear,” said Mr Vinegar. “What a performance.”

“My stars and garters and little apples!” said Mrs Vinegar. “You take these golden guineas and buy us a cow, and that will set us up for life.”

So Mr Vinegar took the golden guineas, and he went to the market to buy him a cow. And he bought a cow: a fine, red cow in full milk it was. He handed over the golden guineas, and he drove the cow back along the road to show his wife.

Well, he hadn’t gone far when he met a man playing the bagpipes, and all the children were following him and dancing.

“Eh dear,” said Mr Vinegar. “I do wish I had those bagpipes, and then. But never mind.”

“You can have these bagpipes,” said the man, “if you’ll give me your red cow.”

“Done!” said Mr Vinegar. And he gave the man the red cow, and the man gave him the bagpipes, and Mr Vinegar marched off down the road, the children following. But Mr Vinegar had never learned to play on bagpipes, nor on anything else, for that matter, and the children soon began to laugh at him and his caterwauling. They didn’t dance any more, either, and Mr Vinegar’s fingers grew stiff and cold with trying to play.

“Eh dear,” said Mr Vinegar. “I do wish I had a pair of gloves to warm me, and then. But never mind.”

“You can have my gloves,” said a man on the road, “if you’ll give me your bagpipes.”

“Done!” said Mr Vinegar. And he gave the man the bagpipes, and Mr Vinegar put the gloves on and marched off to show them to his wife.

By this time it was getting late, and Mr Vinegar was tired, and when he saw a man coming towards him with a good stout stick in his hand, Mr Vinegar said, “Eh dear. I do wish I had a good stout stick in my hand to lean on, and then. But never mind.”

‘You can have my stick,” said the man, “if you’ll give me your gloves.”

“Done!” said Mr Vinegar. The man took the gloves, and Mr Vinegar took the stick and he marched off to show it to his wife.

Now there was a parrot sitting in a tree, and when it saw Mr Vinegar on the road it laughed, and said, “You rum cove! You could have got that stick from any hedge. Where are your golden guineas now?”

“You get off with your bother!” said Mr Vinegar, and he was so vexed he threw the stick at the parrot; but he missed, and the stick lodged fast in the tree where he couldn’t reach it, and the parrot flew away, laughing.

So, with no cow, no bagpipes, no gloves, and no stick, either, Mr Vinegar went back to his wife. But Mrs Vinegar, didn’t she give him some stick, after? What! She did that! I’ll say she did! She gave him stick all right, and no error!