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Authors: Patricia St John
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open.”
“Are the cows trying to go into church?” enquired Dani with interest.
“No,” replied Annette. “They were trying to jump over the wall, but it was too high. They were jumping over the gravestones instead. Here we are at the infant school, Dani, and there is the teacher scrubbing her steps. I suppose it is her cleaning day and she has given all the infants a holiday. I wish the schoolmaster had cleaning days. Oh! Here is the teacher coming toward the cart. She has seen us and I expect she wants to know how you are. And here come Madame Pilet and Madame Lenoir. They have seen us, too. They were washing their clothes in the fountain.”
Annette was right. They certainly wanted to know how Dani was, for in a tiny village news travels fast and is much talked about and long remembered because there is so little of it. The postman’s wife had heard some of the story from Lucien’s sister when she phoned for the doctor, and the station master’s wife had heard the rest from Marie while she waited for the early train, and by now everyone was talking about it and everyone wanted to find out more.
So Madame Pilet and Madame Lenoir left their husbands’ shirts bubbling like white balloons in the fountain while Madame Durez, who kept the village shop, left her counter and came running out with two customers behind her. The teacher left her scrubbing bucket to get cold, and they all crowded around the cart and stood on tiptoe to stare at Dani, lying flat on his back on his hay mattress—a little paler than usual, but otherwise quite cheerful and pleased to see them.
“Ah, the little cabbage,” cried the teacher, throwing up her hands. “You must tell us about it, Annette.” Although they had all heard the story once and repeated it to somebody else, they were all ready to listen again. So Annette told them about it, and they shook their heads a great deal and clicked their tongues. They were all very angry with Lucien.
“He is a wicked boy,” said the infant school teacher. “I shall warn the little children not to have anything to do with him!”
“And I shall not allow Pierre to play with him,” said the postman’s wife. “He has a cruel heart. You can see it in his face. I feel sorry for his mother, having a child like that.” She thought proudly of her own cheery, freckle-faced son, who was one of the best-loved boys in the village.
Dani’s father flicked his whip rather impatiently and called back that they must not keep the doctor waiting. The women stood back and the cart lumbered on slowly over the cobblestones. Then they all drew together again and started talking in the middle of the road with their heads very close together.
The cart jolted on and the sun rose higher. The horse did not mind in the least keeping the doctor waiting, and Annette had plenty of time to describe the scenery to Dani as they made their slow way to town.
“The river is almost in flood, Dani,” remarked Annette. “It’s because the fine weather has melted the snows so fast. The water is right over the pine-tree roots, and here a tree has fallen right across like a bridge. Oh, Dani! There is a little grey squirrel wondering whether to run along it or not.”
“Where?” cried Dani, and he forgot and tried to sit up, but fell back with a squeal of pain.
“You can’t see,” Annette warned him. “Anyhow, the squirrel has run back into the wood. We are getting near the station now, Dani, and there are three cows on the platform waiting to be put on the train.”
The journey passed pleasantly. At last houses began to appear, and Annette told Dani they were coming into the town.
“Tell me about the shops,” exclaimed Dani eagerly.
He had been to the town only three times in his short life and thought it was the most wonderful place in the world.
It wasn’t much of a town, really, for there was only one narrow street of shops—but they were very nice shops. There was the cake shop with its windows
“Are the cows trying to go into church?” enquired Dani with interest.
“No,” replied Annette. “They were trying to jump over the wall, but it was too high. They were jumping over the gravestones instead. Here we are at the infant school, Dani, and there is the teacher scrubbing her steps. I suppose it is her cleaning day and she has given all the infants a holiday. I wish the schoolmaster had cleaning days. Oh! Here is the teacher coming toward the cart. She has seen us and I expect she wants to know how you are. And here come Madame Pilet and Madame Lenoir. They have seen us, too. They were washing their clothes in the fountain.”
Annette was right. They certainly wanted to know how Dani was, for in a tiny village news travels fast and is much talked about and long remembered because there is so little of it. The postman’s wife had heard some of the story from Lucien’s sister when she phoned for the doctor, and the station master’s wife had heard the rest from Marie while she waited for the early train, and by now everyone was talking about it and everyone wanted to find out more.
So Madame Pilet and Madame Lenoir left their husbands’ shirts bubbling like white balloons in the fountain while Madame Durez, who kept the village shop, left her counter and came running out with two customers behind her. The teacher left her scrubbing bucket to get cold, and they all crowded around the cart and stood on tiptoe to stare at Dani, lying flat on his back on his hay mattress—a little paler than usual, but otherwise quite cheerful and pleased to see them.
“Ah, the little cabbage,” cried the teacher, throwing up her hands. “You must tell us about it, Annette.” Although they had all heard the story once and repeated it to somebody else, they were all ready to listen again. So Annette told them about it, and they shook their heads a great deal and clicked their tongues. They were all very angry with Lucien.
“He is a wicked boy,” said the infant school teacher. “I shall warn the little children not to have anything to do with him!”
“And I shall not allow Pierre to play with him,” said the postman’s wife. “He has a cruel heart. You can see it in his face. I feel sorry for his mother, having a child like that.” She thought proudly of her own cheery, freckle-faced son, who was one of the best-loved boys in the village.
Dani’s father flicked his whip rather impatiently and called back that they must not keep the doctor waiting. The women stood back and the cart lumbered on slowly over the cobblestones. Then they all drew together again and started talking in the middle of the road with their heads very close together.
The cart jolted on and the sun rose higher. The horse did not mind in the least keeping the doctor waiting, and Annette had plenty of time to describe the scenery to Dani as they made their slow way to town.
“The river is almost in flood, Dani,” remarked Annette. “It’s because the fine weather has melted the snows so fast. The water is right over the pine-tree roots, and here a tree has fallen right across like a bridge. Oh, Dani! There is a little grey squirrel wondering whether to run along it or not.”
“Where?” cried Dani, and he forgot and tried to sit up, but fell back with a squeal of pain.
“You can’t see,” Annette warned him. “Anyhow, the squirrel has run back into the wood. We are getting near the station now, Dani, and there are three cows on the platform waiting to be put on the train.”
The journey passed pleasantly. At last houses began to appear, and Annette told Dani they were coming into the town.
“Tell me about the shops,” exclaimed Dani eagerly.
He had been to the town only three times in his short life and thought it was the most wonderful place in the world.
It wasn’t much of a town, really, for there was only one narrow street of shops—but they were very nice shops. There was the cake shop with its windows
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