Read Online A Kid for Two Farthings by Wolf Mankowitz - Free Book Online

They visited the South Sea Islands, where Joe drank coconut milk, which is quite like ordinary milk. Mr Kandinsky brought it out for him in an enamel mug. They found pirate treasure just under the lavatory door, a small black pebble which, when properly cut and polished, would be a black diamond. Then at last they came to Africa and had a few adventures there, but suddenly Joe felt like a talk with Mr Kandinsky. Africana’s sniffle had started again so they hurried on to the lost city, met Africana’s parents and Joe’s father, and came home quickly. By air, as a matter of fact, the unicorns growing large wings like geese for the purpose.
    The reason why Joe felt like a talk was that though it was a nice thing to have a unicorn, Africana often didn’t seem very interested in playing. Sometimes he sat down in the middle of a game and just chewed, which was certainly irritating, even if he did have a cold. Joe was worried too because Africana still wasn’t growing much and his horn was so tiny it couldn’t even grant small wishes yet. Joe once wished on it for his mother to come home at three o’clock and take him to the pictures, and instead she came home at turned six and cried because there was no letter from his father.
    Whilst locking Africana up, Joe practised talking and spitting at the same time. It was a question of holding the spit loose round the tip of your tongue, which you kept between your teeth, and blowing when you spoke. With a little more time, Joe would have it perfect; but where did they get those sandwich boards from? Joe went into the workshop.
    ‘Where do they get those sandwich boards from, Mr Kandinsky?’ he asked.
    ‘Where?’ answered Mr Kandinsky. ‘A question.’
    ‘From the kingdom of heaven?’ suggested Joe. ‘Only the religious ones,’ Mr Kandinsky said.
    ‘From the agency near the arches,’ Shmule said, without looking up from a turn-up he was turning up. ‘I know, because Blackie Isaacs has got six of them going round with me on them versus the dreaded Python Macklin at the Baths next Saturday night. No wonder I’m worried.’
    ‘Shmule,’ Mr Kandinsky cried, ‘you never said nothing.’
    ‘Can anyone get sandwich boards near by the arches?’ asked Joe.
    ‘You fighting the dreaded Python so soon?’ Mr Kandinsky went on. ‘How come you are fighting him? Him next to the champion and you a new boy in wrestling almost.’
    ‘Look,’ Shmule said, ‘Python is warming up, see. He’s near the crown five, six year. Already he fights the champ five times. Four times he loses, once he draws. Now he wants plenty of fights, get into form and knock off the champ, who is boozing too much anyway, quick. Afterwards, plenty exhibition bouts with big money for a couple year, and buy a pub in Wapping. So with the shortage in class wrestlers, Blackie does me a favour. Also knocking off the Turk and Bully didn’t help me. I’m a gonner.’
    ‘It’s wonderful,’ Mr Kandinsky said, ‘to think in my workshop a future champion. Wonderful.’
    ‘Wonderful,’ Shmule replied. ‘I got trouble, so by you it’s wonderful. I’m a gonner, I tell you.’
    ‘What kind of spirit is this?’ Mr Kandinsky asked sternly. ‘A nice carry on. I’m ashamed.’
    ‘You’re ashamed. You should have the worry and you wouldn’t have no time to be ashamed.’ Shmule threw his needle and thread down. ‘That bloody Python is going to break my bloody neck.’
    ‘Think how proud Sonia will be of you,’ Mr Kandinsky said.
    ‘Sod Sonia; let her fight the Python and I’ll be proud,’ answered Shmule, and he picked up his needle and got on with his sewing.
    ‘The sandwich boards, Joe,’ said Mr Kandinsky. ‘The sandwich boards is an interesting case.’
    ‘Sod the sandwich boards,’ said Joe. ‘That bloody Python.’
    ‘Go to the corner and get three rolls,’ shouted Mr Kandinsky in a voice of thunder, and Joe ran out. ‘A fine attitude to life,’ Mr Kandinsky told Shmule, his mouth