Jill's Red Bag Part 28
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"How funny! But she's not a bit like Mona."
"No. Miss Webb said to Mona when she told her, 'You are a child beside her, Mona.' Now, what did she mean by that?"
Jill pondered.
"Miss Falkner looks older. And I expect being good makes you old. Miss Falkner is _very_ good. I'm sure when I try to be very good, and make you and b.u.mps good too, I feel--I feel a hundred years old!"
"I don't think children are meant to be _very_ good," said Jack. "People always talk of us as if we're wicked. P'raps we ought to be good on Sundays."
"If we're walking to the Golden City, we ought to be good every day,"
said Jill decidedly.
Jack shook his curly head.
"I've thought of a lovely game I'm going to make b.u.mps play at."
"What?" asked Jill in an eager tone.
"Why you know the story that comes in our reading-books about the geese who saved Rome by cackling when the enemy was creeping up. I'm going to be the enemy, and b.u.mps and you must be asleep."
"But where?" asked Jill. "It was on the top of a high hill."
"Yes," nodded Jack; "but I've thought it out. There's the church tower.
We'll do it to-morrow afternoon, and we'll take the geese up first."
"That will be splendid," said Jill; "only how will you do it? Remember the swans! I think if we can get hold of their food, and hold it out to them, they'll follow us, but how will you climb up to the tower?"
"Tom Sanders has done it. He told me he did, and I'm longing to try. You climb the yew tree first, and then get on to the ivy. Then you get in at the belfry window. He got out again and went up by the lightning-conductor, but I thought the geese would see me climbing in at the window and then they'll cackle--and of course I shan't be able to come on any further."
"But supposing they don't cackle?"
"Well, that's the game--to see if they do! If they don't, I shall know Roman history tells lies. Because, of course, these geese are just the same as those were."
"These are English geese!" Jill said doubtfully.
Jack was undaunted. He was a true little Briton.
"Then they must be better than Roman geese, and they'll cackle twice as loud, and be double as fierce!"
So the next afternoon when lessons were over, instead of playing in the garden, the three children stole quietly off to the farmyard.
The prospect was so exciting that even Jill had no qualms of conscience. Jack had persuaded one of the farm lads who looked after the geese to save him a dish of their food. Armed with a big dish he boldly went up to the biggest gander, who greedily put his head into it at once. It was the signal for all the others to follow suit. Then Jack, holding the dish, ran out of the farmyard; and to the children's delight, away strode the flock of geese after him, stretching out their necks and shrieking in protest. Jill and b.u.mps followed behind with switches to drive them along. Unfortunately, the fowls joined the chase, and two small black pigs escaped out of the yard and with squeals of delight raced into the flower-garden. Out into the lane the little procession went, and the geese behaved very well. Occasionally one or two would dive into a ditch after frogs, which delayed progress, but with Jill and b.u.mps chasing them behind, and Jack enticing them in front, they at last reached the church-yard, which was not very far away. The door of the tower was found open, and the geese were with a little difficulty driven in. But when Jill turned and shut the door a pandemonium ensued. The frightened birds screamed, and beat their wings against each other. As to making them mount the spiral stone steps, it seemed an impossibility. When Jack caught hold of the gander and tried to hoist him up, he turned and pecked at his hand so viciously that it began to bleed. b.u.mps got frightened, and crept into an empty oak chest.
Jill coaxed and beat the birds by turns, and geese and children shrieked at the top of their voices, till the old tower echoed and re-echoed with the noise.
But Jack and Jill never gave up any cherished plan very easily.
By perseverance, and with much toil and persuasion, they got two young geese to the top. Their wings were strong and they flew most of the way. With these two birds they were forced to be content. Poor b.u.mps was forgotten, and the gander and his tribe were so furious at being entrapped in such a manner, that they shrieked and fought like furies.
b.u.mps felt if she showed herself amongst them she would literally be torn to pieces, so she lay still in her chest, her little heart panting and throbbing with fright.
Presently she heard voices in the church, and in a few minutes the belfry door was flung open.
Mr. Errington had been entertaining his bishop that day, and had brought him and a party of ladies to look at a beautiful old screen in the church. Their consternation and amazement was considerable when the flock of angry geese confronted them. The ladies beat a hasty retreat behind the yew tree, and the bishop spoke sternly to the vicar, though there was a twinkle in his eye.
"Is this usual, Errington? Is the belfry your poultry-yard?"
And poor Mr. Errington was so utterly astonished that he could not utter a sound.
Away waddled the geese down the church-yard path, and then b.u.mps lifted up her voice, and her little body too, thereby causing a second alarm.
"Pleath it's only me," she explained, climbing out of her retreat. "The geeth were so angry, I wath quite frightened!"
"Are you a little goose girl?" asked the bishop, bending over her, and putting his hand under her chin.
"No," said b.u.mps, feeling distinctly aggrieved; "I'm not a gooth at all.
It's a game, only the thtupid geeth won't play properly!"
"I am afraid my lord," said Mr. Errington, recovering his presence of mind, "that some young people have been making free of this belfry without my knowledge."
Then turning to b.u.mps he said, "Where are your brother and sister? I fancy they are the culprits."
"They're upstairs," said b.u.mps, tears filling her blue eyes, which she vainly struggled to keep back. "They're playing the game without me. They always does when I get left behind. The geeth wouldn't go up-stairs, but Jack and Jill made two of them go."
"And what game are you playing?" asked the bishop gently.
"It's something about Rome and geeth that have to cackle, and an enemy. Jack is the enemy; he is climbing up outthide, and the top is Rome, and the geeth have to wake Jill and me up. But I've never been athleep, and it's all no good!"
Tears dropped on her white pinafore.
The bishop looked more amused than angry. He turned to Mr. Errington--
"They say that some of our churches lead to Rome, Errington, but these youngsters have been early in discovering it. I should like to go up to Rome, I think. Will you lead the way?"
So Mr. Errington obeyed, and the ladies rustled after them, taking b.u.mps with them. When they came out on top, two geese were being held down forcibly by a very hot and dirty little boy and girl.
"Stop your cackling, you brutes!" Jack was screaming. "I want you to stop till I come up! They're no good, Jill, if they go on like this, and they'll be flying over the tower next. What shall we do? Let us tie their legs!"
"Jack!"
Mr. Errington's tone was so sternly indignant that the boy started and let go of his goose, which flew frantically between the bishop's legs, knocked b.u.mps down, and finally took a header down the the belfry stairs.
"What do you mean by this? How dare you use this church for such a purpose? Isn't your garden large enough for your games?"
"We haven't got a tower," mumbled Jack.
Jill broke in eagerly. "Please Mr. Errington don't be angry. We haven't been into the church. We wouldn't think of playing games in there. We didn't think you'd mind up here, and it is a history game."
"It seems to me," said the bishop, looking at Mr. Errington with a twinkle in his eye, "that you have some scamps amongst your paris.h.i.+oners as well as examples. I have been hearing"--here the bishop turned to Jack and Jill--"of some good little children that I think you would do well to imitate. You might expend some of your superfluous zeal on following their example. These children are steadily putting by a tenth of all their money, and persuading many of their friends to do the same, with the object of building a mission-room in a neglected neighbourhood!"
Jack and Jill looked at the bishop with open eyes and mouth.
Jill's Red Bag Part 28
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Jill's Red Bag Part 28 summary
You're reading Jill's Red Bag Part 28. This novel has been translated by Updating. Author: Amy Le Feuvre already has 564 views.
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