Читать книгу The Hidey-Hole - Enid blyton - Страница 3

1.
BLACKBERRY TIME

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“Bobby! Betty! I say, Bobby, Betty! Where are you?”

Mother looked up from her sewing. “Dear, oh dear, there’s the boy next door shouting again! Well, he can wait till Bob and Bets are home. What a voice he has! Ah—thank goodness, here come the twins!”

Bobby and Betty came in at the back door, each with a bag of shopping. “Hallo, Mother! Haven’t we been quick? I say—is that Jocko yelling for us?”

“Yes, it is,” said Mother, taking the shopping out of the bags. “He’s as bad as a fog-horn! I never in my life heard such yells. For goodness’ sake go down the garden and find out what he wants. I should think he has wakened up all the babies in the district!”

“bob-bee, bet-ty!” came Jocko’s voice again.

“Oh, I expect he wants to talk about going blackberrying,” said Betty.

“You know what we told you, Mother,” said Bobby. “Our teacher at school said that there were so many blackberries this year we could pick heaps and sell them, and take the money to school—and it would help to buy a little tricycle for William.”

“That’s the boy who has poor, weak legs,” said Betty. “He’s the little boy belonging to Mrs. Scott, who comes to clean the schoolroom. The doctor said that if he could have a little tricycle, it would make his legs strong, and he could ride to school each day.”

“Oh yes, you did tell me,” said Mother. “Well, it would be wonderful if you children could buy him a little tricycle. But tricycles are very expensive, you know. You would need to pick hundreds of blackberries to make enough money to buy one! Poor William, I can’t bear to see his little thin legs. Just look at your straight strong ones, aren’t you lucky!”

“Yes, we are,” said Betty, looking down at her sturdy legs. “Mother, will you buy blackberries from us if we pick a lot?”

“Of course, darling!” said Mother. “And I will pay you for any errands you run for me, or any little jobs you do. Keep a special box for your earnings. It will soon be full! I’ll make you jam with the blackberries, so pick the very biggest, juiciest ones you can find! Now do go and see what Jocko wants!”

“betty! bobby!” came Jocko’s enormous voice again, “i want you!” A volley of loud barks followed his shouts, and Mother put her hands over her ears.

“Good gracious—that’s Jiminy barking now! He has an even louder voice than Jocko. For goodness’ sake go down and stop them making that noise!”

“Right!” said Bobby, and he and Betty shot off down the garden at top speed, “com-ing!” yelled Bobby. “com-ing!”

Soon the two of them were at the spot where Jocko was yelling for them. He was up a tree that overhung their garden and Jiminy, his rough-haired terrier puppy, was barking his head off just below.

“What an age you’ve been!”

“What an age you’ve been!” said Jocko. “I’ve shouted for you for hours.”

“You haven’t,” said Betty. “Make room for us on your branch. Our mother was cross with your shouting. What do you want?”

“It’s about the blackberrying,” said Jocko, sliding further up the branch of the old tree, to make room for Betty and Bobby. “I vote we go after tea. My mother says you can come to tea first, if you like. Then we’ll go up on the common with Jiminy, and take the biggest baskets we can find. I bet we’ll pick enough to buy that tricycle!”

“To buy the bell, perhaps, you mean!” said Betty. “We’d have to pick hundreds and thousands and millions to get enough to buy a tricycle!”

“Oh well—we’ll just pick as many as we can,” said Jocko. “What shall we do now?”

A bell rang in the distance just then, and at once the children slid down the branch and leapt to the ground. “Tea!” said Jocko. “And Mother’s made the biggest currant buns you ever saw. Come on! You can yell over the fence to tell your mother you’re having tea with us. Look at old Jiminy scurrying up the garden. He runs fast, doesn’t he—and he’s only a pup!”

Jocko was very fond of his puppy, and the little thing adored him. Bobby and Betty thought he was the nicest dog they had ever seen, and the cleverest!

Soon they were all sitting at the tea-table. Certainly Jocko’s mother had made enormous currant buns that afternoon. “Absolutely stuffed with currants too!” said Betty. “I do like your buns, Mrs. Hayes.”

“So does Jiminy,” said Mrs. Hayes, who was keeping a sharp eye on the puppy, watching to see that Jocko didn’t slip one or two buns under the table. “Now, Jocko, if you feed Jiminy at meal-times I shall send him to his kennel!”

“That was only a crumb I dropped, Mother,” said Jocko. “Mother, listen—can we have your very biggest baskets please, to put hundreds and hundreds of blackberries in? We’re going blackberrying after tea.”

“Very well,” said his mother. “Jiminy will love the walk to the common. I’ll buy whatever you pick. I know it’s for a tricycle for little William. You can go as soon as you’ve finished your tea.”

And now, there they all go with their baskets. Look, even Jiminy is carrying one, just a little one because he’s just a little dog.

Hurry up, Jiminy, or you’ll be left behind!