Читать книгу Come to the Circus! - Enid blyton - Страница 5

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Fenella stared at the boy without saying a word. He had pale gold hair, so fair that it was almost white. His face was completely covered with freckles, and he had a dimple in each cheek that went in and out when he smiled. He was smiling now.

“Come on, silly,” he said, and held out his hand. “You’re not frightened of old Cackles, are you? She’s a darling. Shake hands, Cackles.”

To Fenella’s great surprise the large goose stood up and, balancing herself awkwardly on one leg, held out the other foot to Fenella. It was a large, webbed foot, and the little girl didn’t want to touch it.

“Oh, go on,” said the boy. “Don’t be mean. Cackles will be awfully hurt if you don’t shake hands. I tell you, she’s the friendliest goose in the world. Aren’t you, Cackles?”

“Cackle,” said the goose, agreeing. She still held out her foot, and Fenella at last took it and gave it a feeble shake. It felt cold and clammy. The goose sat down again and put her big, yellow beak on the boy’s shoulder.

“Now, you tell me why you’ve been crying,” said Willie. “Anyone been unkind to you?”

“Yes,” said Fenella, tears coming to her eyes again. “Mr. Carl Crack has. He shouted at me and told me to clear out, and he was so angry that I ran away. I shall never go back.”

“I say! Are you Ursie’s niece?” said Willie, sitting up straighter. “I heard you were coming, but I thought you’d be a lot bigger. How old are you?”

“Ten,” said Fenella. “I used to live with my Aunt Janet, but she’s married and gone to Canada. I haven’t got a father or mother. They died when I was little. So I’ve got to come and live with Uncle Ursie and Aunt Lou. And I don’t like them. I don’t like anybody I’ve seen at the circus. And I am so scared of all the animals, too. I’m going to run away!”

“No, you’re not,” said Willie, and he put an arm round her. “Wipe your eyes, silly. You’ll love living with us after a bit. Fancy wanting to live an ordinary life, in a house, when you can live in a circus, with animals all round you, and have a house on wheels that can take you away wherever you like!”

“I’d rather not,” said Fenella. “I’d rather run away.”

“But you’d only be brought back,” said Willie. “You would, really. And then everyone would be very cross with you, which would be a pity. I tell you there are lots of nice people in Mr. Crack’s circus. I’m one of them! And my mother is another. I haven’t got a father, so I look after my mother and she looks after me! And Cackles looks after us both. Don’t you, Cackles?”

“Cackle,” said the goose, and made a little hissing noise in Willie’s ear.

“Don’t,” said Willie. “You tickle. Move up a bit, Cackles. You’re leaning too hard on me.”

Cackles moved up. Fenella watched in surprise. “Does she understand everything you say?” she asked.

“Everything!” said Willie, with a grin. “I had her when she was a gosling—that’s a baby goose in case you don’t know—and I found her half dead down a lane. Goodness knows how she got there, poor mite. I took her to Mum, and we warmed her and fed her—and here she is, simply enormous, the Cleverest Goose in the World! I take her in the ring with me when we give a show.”

“Do you really?” said Fenella, opening her eyes wide in wonder. “But what can she do?”

“Oh, she’s a marvel!” said Willie. “She wears a red shawl and a cute little bonnet, and she carries a shopping basket under her wing. And I’m the shopkeeper, and she buys what she wants from me. I tell you, we bring the house down, me and Cackles!”

“I’d like to see you in the circus-ring with Cackles,” said Fenella.

“Well, it’s no good your running away then, or you won’t,” said Willie. “You stay with us and you’ll soon get to know us and like us.”

“But I’m so afraid of Mr. Crack now,” said Fenella, remembering that enormous voice of his.

“You don’t need to be,” said Willie. “He’s the kindest fellow really—but he’s hot-tempered, and maybe he didn’t see you and was afraid he’d hurt you with his whip-cracking—so he roared at you to get out of the way. If he’d known you were Ursie’s niece and had come to live at the circus, he’d have been kinder. But a whole lot of town kids are always wandering about the field, scaring the monkeys and sometimes opening cage doors. He gets wild with them.”

“Oh,” said Fenella. Then she remembered something. “Willie, what were you doing when I heard you whistling? I saw a lot of birds round you.”

“Well, I told you I was Willie Winkie the Whistler, didn’t I?” said the boy. “Want to see what I can do? All right then—watch.”

Fenella sat absolutely still. Cackles took her head from the boy’s shoulder and curled it under her wing. She sat still, too. Then Willie began to whistle like a blackbird.

“Phooee, phoo, phee-dee-ee, phoolee dooee,” he whistled, sounding like a flute. Fenella gazed at him in amazement. How could he sing like a bird? Nobody would know it wasn’t a bird singing! A nearby blackbird answered the whistling boy and flew nearer. Willie fluted back, and the bird drew nearer still. Then the boy changed his song and imitated the chaffinch’s merry rattle. One answered him and soon two or three came round.

Willie whistled like a great-tit. “Pee-ter-pee-ter-pee-ter, pee!” he whistled. And three great-tits answered and came flying down.

Soon there was a ring of birds round the boy, who, except for his mouth, did not move at all. Fenella kept as still as a mouse, fascinated. The goose did not stir a single feather.

Robins came when Willie imitated their rich, creamy little song. Thrushes came, and a wagtail, too, calling its musical “chissik, chissik,” in answer to Willie. Fenella had never seen birds so close in her life. One of them actually hopped on to Willie’s foot. Then a robin flew to the top of his head and carolled loudly.

Cackles uncurled her long neck and hissed. The robin flew off in alarm. So did the other birds.

“Oh, Cackles! You shouldn’t mind if a robin perches on my head!” said Willie, laughing. He stroked the soft feathers of the goose, who hissed softly and pecked lovingly at his hand.

“She’s jealous if any bird comes too near,” said Willie. “Well, what did you think of all that?”

Fenella looked at Willie with shining eyes. “I think you’re wonderful,” she said. “Oh, Willie—how do you do it?”

“Little secret of mine!” said Willie, and he laughed. “Like to see it?”

“Oh, yes!” said Fenella. Willie put his hand into his mouth, and then took out what looked like a cherry-stone with a hole in it. “That’s my secret,” he said.

“But—what does that do?” asked Fenella, puzzled.

“I fix it in between two of my teeth,” said Willie. “And it helps me to make all those whistling noises. My father used to imitate birds, too. He had a lot of these stones and things. I found them and practised with them. It’s in our family. My great-uncle was a famous bird-whistler, too.”

Fenella couldn’t understand how a little cherry-stone with a hole in it could possibly help Willie to make all those bird-noises. He popped the stone back into his mouth, and did a few trills. It was marvellous.

Cackles stood up and began to peck at the grass hungrily. That made Fenella suddenly remember something. “Oh dear! I’ve just remembered! Aunt Lou told me to tell Uncle Ursie to buy some sausages for his supper tonight—and I forgot.”

“Well, we’ll go and fetch them,” said Willie. “Come on. That will put your aunt in a good temper! Hey, Cackles, coming?”

Cackles came with them. Fenella was afraid that the dogs they met might snap at her, but Cackles was not afraid of any dog in the world. One peck from that big beak and the biggest dog would fly howling down the street as fast as it could possibly go!

The three of them, much stared at, arrived in the little town of Upper Middleham. Willie bought some sausages. Then he bought a bar of chocolate for Fenella. She was very pleased.

“You are kind!” she said, “I don’t think I’m going to run away after all. It won’t be so bad if you’re there. I’d like to be friends with you and Cackles.”

“Cackle,” said the goose, and pressed against the little girl.

“There you are!” said Willie. “She says she’ll be friends with you, too! We’ll have some fun, Fenny. I’ll take you round the circus and introduce you to everyone. You needn’t be afraid if I’m there! Even the elephants eat out of my hand.”

Fenella thought that Willie Winkie was the most wonderful boy she had ever met. What twinkling eyes he had! What a lot of freckles—and what funny little dimples! She had never seen a boy with dimples before, but they suited Willie. She wished she had one, too, that went in and out when she smiled, like Willie’s. But she hadn’t.

They went back to the circus. Fenella felt nervous when they went in at the gate. Suppose she met Mr. Crack again, with his enormous whip. She would want to run away!

They did meet him. He came swinging round the corner, humming loudly, leading a most beautiful black horse. “Hallo, Willie Winkie!” he said. “How’s old Cackles? And who’s this young lady with red hair and green eyes?”

Fenella trembled. Surely he would know she was the little girl he had roared at not so long before.

“This is Fenella, Ursie’s niece, who’s come to live at the circus,” said Willie. “She’s to help Lou, you know, with the sewing.”

“Oh, so you’re Fenella!” said Mr. Crack, and he fished in his pocket. He brought out a bag of sticky sweets. “Here you are then, girl. Sweets for you, and don’t you give any to that greedy goose. And mind now, if anyone scares you, or shouts at you, you just come to me, Mr. Carl Crack—and I’ll crack my whip at them and scare them into fits! Ho, ho, ho, that’s what I’ll do!”

He stood towering over Fenella, his face one big kind smile. The little girl couldn’t help smiling back as she took the sweets. He didn’t seem a bit like the man who had roared at her a few hours back.

Willie took her hand. “What did I tell you?” he said. “You don’t need to be scared of Mr. Crack—unless you do wrong. But you’re a good little girl, I can see. Come along and meet my mother. We’re going to have a fine time together, you and Cackles and I!”