Read Online William The Conqueror by Richmal Crompton - Free Book Online Page A

his head. Standing on his head was the title given to the performance by Jumble’s
owner. In reality it consisted of rubbing the top of his head on the ground. None of his legs left the ground, but William always called it ‘Jumble standing on his head’, and was
inordinately proud of it.

    ST WILLIAM STOOD UP TO PREACH TO THE RELUCTANT JUMBLE. ‘DEARLY BELOVED JUMBLE,’ HE BEGAN.
    ‘Look at him,’ he said, ‘isn’t that jolly clever? An’ no one told him to. Jus’ did it without anyone tellin’ him to. I bet there’s not many dogs
    like him. I bet he’s the cleverest dog there is in England. I wun’t mind sayin’ he’s the cleverest dog there is in the world. I wun’t—’
    ‘I thought you was preachin’ to him, not talkin’ about him,’ said St Ginger, sternly. Ginger, who was not allowed to possess a dog, tired occasionally of hearing William
sing the praises of his.
    ‘Oh, yes,’ said St William with less enthusiasm. ‘I’ll start all over again. Dearly beloved Brother Jumble – I say, what did that St Francis say to the
animals?’
    ‘Dunno,’ said St Ginger vaguely, ‘I s’pect he jus’ told ’em to – well, to do good an’ that sort of thing.’
    ‘Dearly beloved Brother Jumble,’ said William again, ‘you mus’ – do good an – an’ stop chasin’ cats. Why,’ he said proudly,
‘there’s not a cat in this village that doesn’t run when it sees Jumble comin’. I bet he’s the best dog for chasin’ cats anywhere round this part of
England. I bet—’
    Jumble, seizing his moment for escape, tore himself from St Ginger’s unwary arms, and leapt up ecstatically at William.
    ‘Good old Jumble,’ said the saint affectionately. ‘Good old boy!’
    At this point the other two saints returned.
    ‘Well, did you find any birds?’ said St William.
    ‘There was heaps of birds,’ said St Douglas in an exasperated tone of voice, ‘but the minute I started preachin’ they all flew off. They din’ seem to know how to act with saints. They din’ seem to know they’d got to sit on our arms an’ things. Made us feel mad – anyway, we gotter thrush’s egg and Henry – I
mean St Henry – jus’ wanted one of those—’
    ‘Well,’ said St William rather sternly, ‘I don’ think it’s the right thing for saints to do – to go preachin’ to birds an’ then takin’ their
eggs – I mean their brother eggs.’
    ‘There was lots more,’ said Henry. ‘They like you jus’ takin’ one. It makes it less trouble for ’em hatchin’ ’em out.’
    ‘Well, anyway,’ said William, ‘let’s get on with this animal business. P’raps the tame ones’ll be better. Let’s go across to Jenks’ farm an’
try on them.’
    They crept rather cautiously into the farmyard. The feud between Farmer Jenks and the Outlaws was one of long standing. He would probably not realise that the Williamcans were a saintly
organisation whose every action was inspired by a love of mankind. He would probably imagine that they were still the old unregenerate Outlaws.
    ‘I’ll do brother cows,’ said St William, ‘an’ St Ginger do brother pigs, and St Douglas do brother goats, an’ St Henry do sister hens.’
    They approached their various audiences. Ginger leant over the pigsty. Then he turned to William, who was already striking an attitude before his congregation of cows, and said: ‘I say,
what’ve I gotter say to ’em?’

    WILLIAM WAS ALREADY STRIKING AN ATTITUDE BEFORE HIS CONGREGATION OF COWS.
    At that moment brother goat, being approached too nearly by St Douglas, butted the saintly stomach, and St Douglas sat down suddenly and heavily. Brother goat, evidently enjoying this form of
    entertainment, returned to the charge. St Douglas fled to the accompaniment of an uproarious farmyard commotion.
    Farmer Jenks appeared, and, seeing his old enemies, the Outlaws, actually within his precincts, he uttered a yell of fury and darted down upon them. The saints fled swiftly,