Read Online In the Fifth at Malory Towers by Enid Blyton - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Enid Blyton
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is no laughing matter. I go, to get help. Matron must come. Be still, June. Do not burst.”
She hurried out, wringing her hands. June looked decidedly alarmed. “I say! The beastly thing’s gone wrong. I can’t let Matron see me like this. I’d get an awful wigging. What can I do?”
Darrell had just arrived at the door at the moment that Mam’zelle rushed out, looking frantic. She had pushed by Darrell without even seeing her. Darrell looked in at the open door.
She saw the monstrous June. Felicity saw Darrell as an angel in disguise. “Darrell! The deflator’s gone wrong! Mam’zelle’s gone to get Matron. Quick, what can we do?”
“Get a pin, idiot,” said Darrell. “Stick it into June and she’ll go pop and subside. Then you’d better get her out of that arrangement quickly, because Matron will certainly do some exploring.”
A pin was produced. Felicity dug it into the four swellings and they each went off with a loud Pop! June became her own size and shape at once. She began to pull everything out, frantically and wildly. She was frightened now.
She got the rubber balloons out at last and put them into her desk, just as footsteps were heard down the corridor. Darrell slipped out, finding it difficult not to dissolve into laughter. How she would have loved to see Mam’zelle’s face when she first saw June swelling up!
Mam’zelle was alone, looking rather subdued. She hurried by Darrell and came to the first form. She went in and gazed at June.
“Ah — so — you are flat now! I told Matron about you and she laughed at me. She said it was a treek. A TREEK! What is this awful, horrible, abominable treek? I will find it. I will seek it. I will hunt for it in every desk in the room. Ahhhhhhhh!”
Mam’zelle looked so fierce as she stood there that nobody dared to say a word. June began to wish she had left the balloons in her clothes. If Mam’zelle did look in her desk she would certainly find them.
Mam’zelle found them. She lifted up the lid and saw the rubber balloons at once, flat and torn. She picked them out and shook them in June’s face. “Ah, now you can hold your breath again, you bad, wicked June! Hold your breath and listen to what I have to say! You will learn for me one hundred lines of French poetry before Tuesday. Yes, one hundred lines! Does that make you hold your breath, you bad girl?”
It certainly did. June already had two lots of English lines to learn — now she had a hundred French ones to add to the lot. She groaned.
Mam’zelle rummaged further in the desk. She took out some booklets and looked at them.
“New treeks. Old treeks. Treeks to play on your friends. Treeks to play on your enemies,” she read. “Aha! These I will take from you, June. You shall do no more treeks this term. These I will confiscate, and I do not think you shall have them back. No!”
She put the booklets with her books on the desk, and, very grim and determined, went on with the French Dictée . The class soon recovered and longed for the last bell to go, so that they might laugh once again to their heart’s content.
Mam’zelle said a sharp good morning when the bell went, and went off with the rubber balloons, the booklets about tricks, and her own books. She sat down in the room she shared with Miss Potts, the house-mistress of North Tower.
“You look hot and bothered, Mam’zelle,” said Miss Potts, sympathetically.
“Ah — this June — she swells up like a frog — under my eyes!” began Mam’zelle, fiercely, swelling up too. Then she saw Miss Potts” astonished look, and she smiled suddenly. She opened her mouth and laughed. She rolled in her seat and roared.
“Oh, these treeks! One of these days I too will play a treek. It shall be superbe , magnifique , merveilleuse . Ha, one day I too will play a treek!”
In the common-room
DARRELL told Alicia about June’s idiotic trick. Alicia laughed. “It’s in the family, isn’t it! I and my brothers are trick-mad,
She hurried out, wringing her hands. June looked decidedly alarmed. “I say! The beastly thing’s gone wrong. I can’t let Matron see me like this. I’d get an awful wigging. What can I do?”
Darrell had just arrived at the door at the moment that Mam’zelle rushed out, looking frantic. She had pushed by Darrell without even seeing her. Darrell looked in at the open door.
She saw the monstrous June. Felicity saw Darrell as an angel in disguise. “Darrell! The deflator’s gone wrong! Mam’zelle’s gone to get Matron. Quick, what can we do?”
“Get a pin, idiot,” said Darrell. “Stick it into June and she’ll go pop and subside. Then you’d better get her out of that arrangement quickly, because Matron will certainly do some exploring.”
A pin was produced. Felicity dug it into the four swellings and they each went off with a loud Pop! June became her own size and shape at once. She began to pull everything out, frantically and wildly. She was frightened now.
She got the rubber balloons out at last and put them into her desk, just as footsteps were heard down the corridor. Darrell slipped out, finding it difficult not to dissolve into laughter. How she would have loved to see Mam’zelle’s face when she first saw June swelling up!
Mam’zelle was alone, looking rather subdued. She hurried by Darrell and came to the first form. She went in and gazed at June.
“Ah — so — you are flat now! I told Matron about you and she laughed at me. She said it was a treek. A TREEK! What is this awful, horrible, abominable treek? I will find it. I will seek it. I will hunt for it in every desk in the room. Ahhhhhhhh!”
Mam’zelle looked so fierce as she stood there that nobody dared to say a word. June began to wish she had left the balloons in her clothes. If Mam’zelle did look in her desk she would certainly find them.
Mam’zelle found them. She lifted up the lid and saw the rubber balloons at once, flat and torn. She picked them out and shook them in June’s face. “Ah, now you can hold your breath again, you bad, wicked June! Hold your breath and listen to what I have to say! You will learn for me one hundred lines of French poetry before Tuesday. Yes, one hundred lines! Does that make you hold your breath, you bad girl?”
It certainly did. June already had two lots of English lines to learn — now she had a hundred French ones to add to the lot. She groaned.
Mam’zelle rummaged further in the desk. She took out some booklets and looked at them.
“New treeks. Old treeks. Treeks to play on your friends. Treeks to play on your enemies,” she read. “Aha! These I will take from you, June. You shall do no more treeks this term. These I will confiscate, and I do not think you shall have them back. No!”
She put the booklets with her books on the desk, and, very grim and determined, went on with the French Dictée . The class soon recovered and longed for the last bell to go, so that they might laugh once again to their heart’s content.
Mam’zelle said a sharp good morning when the bell went, and went off with the rubber balloons, the booklets about tricks, and her own books. She sat down in the room she shared with Miss Potts, the house-mistress of North Tower.
“You look hot and bothered, Mam’zelle,” said Miss Potts, sympathetically.
“Ah — this June — she swells up like a frog — under my eyes!” began Mam’zelle, fiercely, swelling up too. Then she saw Miss Potts” astonished look, and she smiled suddenly. She opened her mouth and laughed. She rolled in her seat and roared.
“Oh, these treeks! One of these days I too will play a treek. It shall be superbe , magnifique , merveilleuse . Ha, one day I too will play a treek!”
In the common-room
DARRELL told Alicia about June’s idiotic trick. Alicia laughed. “It’s in the family, isn’t it! I and my brothers are trick-mad,
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