Читать книгу Five Go Down to the Sea - Enid blyton - Страница 5

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After their wonderful high tea the four children didn’t really feel like doing very much. Dick thought he ought to mend his puncture, but wasn’t sure that he could bend over properly!

Mrs Penruthlan began to stack the dishes and clear away. George and Anne offered to help her. ‘Well, that’s kind of you, Anne and Georgina,’ said the farmer’s wife. ‘But you’re tired tonight. You can give me a hand some other time. By the way, which of you is which?’

‘I’m Anne,’ said Anne.

‘And I’m George, not Georgina,’ said George. ‘So please don’t call me that. I hate it. I always wanted to be a boy, so I only like to be called George.’

‘What she really means is that she won’t answer unless you do call her George,’ said Anne. ‘Well, if you really are sure you don’t need our help, we’ll go out with the boys.’

So out they went, George really looking far more like a boy than a girl, with her grey jeans and shirt and her short, curly hair and freckled face. She put her hands in her pockets and tried to walk like Dick!

Dick soon found his puncture and mended it. Mr Penruthlan came by with some straw for his cow and new calf. The boys watched him in awe, for he was carrying almost a wagon load of straw tied up in bales! What strength he had! He nodded to them and passed without a word.

‘Why doesn’t he talk?’ wondered Dick. ‘I suppose all his seven children take after their talkative mother, and he never had a chance to get a word in. And it’s too late now, he’s forgotten how to!’

They laughed. ‘What a giant of a man,’ said Julian. ‘I hope I grow as big as that.’

‘I don’t. I’d hate to have my bare feet poking out of the bottom of the bed every night,’ said Dick. ‘There. I’ve finished that puncture. See the nail that made it? I must have run over it on the way to the station this morning.’

‘Do look at Timmy,’ said Julian. ‘He’s having the time of his life with those farm dogs, acting just like a puppy!’

So he was, bounding here and there, rushing round the dogs and then rushing away, jumping on first one and then another, till they all went down in an excited, yapping scrum, the little Scottie doing his best to keep up with everything!

‘Timmy’s going to have a good time here,’ said Dick. ‘And he’ll soon lose his beautiful waist-line if he eats as well as we do!’

‘We’ll take him on long bike rides,’ said Julian. ‘He can’t grow much tummy if he runs for miles!’

The girls came up just then. A few feet behind trotted a queer little boy, bare-footed, shock-headed and very dirty.

‘Who’s this?’ said Dick.

‘I don’t know,’ said George. ‘He suddenly appeared behind us and has been following us ever since. He just won’t go away!’

The boy wore a ragged pair of jeans and an old pullover. He was black-eyed and burnt dark-brown by the sun. He stood a few feet away and stared.

‘Who are you?’ said Dick. The boy went back a few steps in fright. He shook his head.

‘I said, who are you?’ said Dick again. ‘Or, if you prefer it another way, what’s your name?’

‘Yan,’ said the boy.

‘Yan?’ said Dick. ‘That’s a queer name.’

‘He probably means Jan,’ said George.

The boy nodded. ‘Iss. Yan,’ he said.

‘I suppose “Iss” means “Yes”,’ said Anne. ‘All right, Jan. You can go now.’

‘I stay,’ said the boy solemnly. ‘Iss.’

And stay he did, following them about everywhere, gazing at all they did with the utmost curiosity, as if he had never in his life seen children before!

‘He’s like a mosquito,’ said Dick. ‘Always buzzing around. I’m getting tired of it. Hey, Yan!’

‘Iss?’

‘Clear out now! Understand? Get away, go, run off, vamoose, bunk, scoot!’ explained Dick sternly. Yan stared.

Mrs Penruthlan came out and heard all this. ‘Jan bothering you?’ she said. ‘He’s as full of curiosity as a cat. Go home, Jan. Take this to your old Grandad. And here’s some for you.’

Jan came up eagerly and took the packet of food Mrs Penruthlan held out to him, and the slice of cake. He ran off without a word, his bare feet making no sound.

‘Who is he?’ asked George. ‘What a little scarecrow!’

‘He’s a poor little thing,’ said the farmer’s wife. ‘He’s got no kith or kin except for his old great-grandad, and there’s more than eighty years between them! The old man is our shepherd. Do you see that hill over there, well, he’s got a hut on the other side, and there he lives, winter and summer alike, and that child with him.’

‘Surely he ought to go to school?’ said Julian. ‘Perhaps he does?’

‘No,’ said Mrs Penruthlan. ‘He plays truant nearly all the time. You ought to go and talk to his old great-grandad. His father was one of the Wreckers on this coast, and he can tell you some strange stories about those dreadful days.’

‘We’ll certainly go and talk to him,’ said Dick. ‘I’d forgotten that this Cornish coast was the haunt of Wreckers. They shone false lights to bring ships in close to shore, so that they would be smashed to pieces on the rocks, didn’t they?’

‘Yes, and then they robbed the poor, groaning ship when she was helpless,’ said Mrs Penruthlan. ‘And it’s said they paid no heed to the drowning folk, either. Those were wicked days.’

‘How far is it to cycle to the sea?’ said George. ‘I can see it from my bedroom window.’

‘Oh, it won’t take you more than ten minutes,’ said the farmer’s wife. ‘Go tomorrow, if you like. You all look very tired now. Why don’t you take a short walk and go to bed? I’ll have a snack ready for you when you come in.’

‘Oh, we couldn’t possibly eat any more tonight, thank you,’ said Dick, hurriedly. ‘But the walk is quite a good idea. We’d like to see round the farm.’

Mrs Penruthlan left them, and Dick looked round at the others. ‘A snack!’ he said. ‘I never thought I’d groan at the thought. But I bet Mr Penruthlan will want a jolly good snack when he comes in. Come on, let’s go up by those sheds.’

They went off together, Timmy following behind with his four friends, their tails wagging amiably. It was still a lovely evening, and a cool breeze came down from the hills, making it lovelier still. The children wandered round, enjoying the familiar farm sights, the ducks on the pond, a few hens still clucking round, the grey sheep dotting the hills. Cows were peacefully grazing and an old farm horse came to a gate to stare at them.

They rubbed his velvety nose, and he bent down to sniff at Timmy, whom he didn’t know. Timmy sniffed solemnly back.

They went into the barns and looked around, big, dark, sweet-smelling places, stored with many things. Dick was sure that the biggest one would be the one used by the Barnies. What fun!

‘I bet they’ll be pretty awful, but good fun, all the same,’ he said. ‘It must be grand to wander round the countryside with all your belongings done up in a parcel or two, and then amaze the country people with your songs and dances and acting. I wouldn’t mind trying it myself! I’m pretty good at a spot of conjuring, for instance!’

‘Yes, you are,’ said Anne. ‘Wouldn’t it be fun if we could give a little show too, if the Barnies would let us join them just for one evening?’

‘We wouldn’t be allowed to because we’re “furriners”,’ said Dick, grinning. ‘I say, what’s that, over there, behind that sack?’

Timmy at once went to see, and stood there barking. The others went over to look.

‘It’s that kid Yan again,’ said Julian in disgust. He pulled the boy out from his hiding-place. ‘What are you following us around for, you little idiot?’ he demanded. ‘We don’t like it. See? Go and find your old Grandad before you eat all the food Mrs Penruthlan gave you. Go on, now.’

He pushed the boy out of the barn, and watched him go into the next field. ‘That’s got rid of him,’ he said. ‘I think he’s a bit simple. We’ll go and see that Grandad of his one day and see if he really has got anything interesting to say about the old Wreckers.’

‘Let’s go back now,’ said Dick, yawning. ‘I’ve seen enough of this place to know I’m going to like it a lot. I’m going to like my bed tonight too. Coming, Ju?’

They all felt the same as Dick. His yawn had set them yawning, too, and they thought longingly of bed. They made their way back to the farm, followed closely by Timmy at their heels, and the other four dogs a respectful distance away.

They said good night to the two Penruthlans, who were sitting peacefully listening to their radio. Mrs Penruthlan wanted to come up with them but they wouldn’t let her.

They said good night to the farmer, who grunted ‘Ah!’ without even looking at them, and went on listening to the radio programme. Then up the stairs they went, and into their rooms.

When Julian was in bed and almost asleep he heard a scrabbling noise outside his window. He half-opened his eyes, and listened. He hoped it wasn’t rats! If it was, Anne would probably hear them too, and be scared, and Timmy would hear them and bark the place down!

The scrabbling noise came again. Julian spoke softly to Dick. ‘Dick! Are you awake? Did you hear that noise at the window?’

No answer. Dick was sound asleep, dreaming that he had a puncture in his foot and couldn’t walk till it was mended! Julian lay and listened. Yes, there it was again, and now surely there was someone trying to peep in at the tiny window?

He slid out of bed and went to the side of the window. Thick ivy grew outside. Somebody was still there for Julian could see the leaves shaking.

He put his head suddenly out of the window, and a scared face, quite close to his, stared in fright.

‘Yan! What do you think you’re doing?’ said Julian, fiercely. ‘I’ll spank you if you go on like this, staring and peeping! What’s so queer about us?’

Yan was terrified. He suddenly slithered down the ivy like a cat, landed with a slight thud on the ground and then ran off into the twilight at top speed.

‘I hope he’s not going to follow us around all the time,’ thought Julian, getting into bed again. ‘I’ll teach him a lesson if he does. Blow him! Now he’s made me wide awake!’

But it wasn’t long before Julian was sleeping as soundly as Dick. Neither of them stirred until a cock outside their window decided that it was time the whole world woke up, and crowed at the top of his voice.

‘Cock-a-doodle-DOO!’

The boys woke with a jump. The early sun streamed into the room, and Julian glanced at his watch. How early it was! And yet he could hear movements downstairs that told him Mrs Penruthlan was up and about, and so was her giant of a husband.

He fell asleep again, and was awakened by a loud knock at his door, and Mrs Penruthlan’s voice. ‘It’s half past seven, and breakfast will be on the table for you at eight. Wake up!’

How lovely to wake in a strange place at the beginning of a holiday, to think of bathing and biking and picnicking and eating and drinking, forgetting all about exams and rules and punishments! The four children and Timmy stretched themselves and stared at the sunshine outside. What a day!

Downstairs breakfast awaited them. ‘Super!’ said Dick, eyeing the bacon and fried eggs, the cold ham, and the home-made jam and marmalade. ‘Mrs Penruthlan, your seven children must have been very sorry to marry and leave home. I feel, if I’d been one of them, I’d have stayed with you for the rest of my life!’