The Phoenix and the Carpet by E. Nesbit (that summer book .txt) đ
- Author: E. Nesbit
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It was; and their entrance had awakened Anthea, who, with her brothers, now crowded through the doorway. The man looked about him like a rat looks round a trap.
âThis is a friend of mine,â said Jane; âheâs just called in, and heâs going to milk the cow for us. ISNâT it good and kind of him?â
She winked at the others, and though they did not understand they played up loyally.
âHow do?â said Cyril, âVery glad to meet you. Donât let us interrupt the milking.â
âI shall âave a âead and a âarf in the morning, and no bloominâ error,â remarked the burglar; but he began to milk the cow.
Robert was winked at to stay and see that he did not leave off milking or try to escape, and the others went to get things to put the milk in; for it was now spurting and foaming in the wash-bowl, and the cats had ceased from mewing and were crowding round the cow, with expressions of hope and anticipation on their whiskered faces.
âWe canât get rid of any more cats,â said Cyril, as he and his sisters piled a tray high with saucers and soup-plates and platters and pie-dishes, âthe police nearly got us as it was. Not the same oneâa much stronger sort. He thought it really was a foundling orphan weâd got. If it hadnât been for me throwing the two bags of cat slap in his eye and hauling Robert over a railing, and lying like mice under a laurel-bushâWell, itâs jolly lucky Iâm a good shot, thatâs all. He pranced off when heâd got the cat-bags off his faceâthought weâd bolted. And here we are.â
The gentle samishness of the milk swishing into the hand-bowl seemed to have soothed the burglar very much. He went on milking in a sort of happy dream, while the children got a cap and ladled the warm milk out into the pie-dishes and plates, and platters and saucers, and set them down to the music of Persian purrs and lappings.
âIt makes me think of old times,â said the burglar, smearing his ragged coat-cuff across his eyesââabout the apples in the orchard at home, and the rats at threshing time, and the rabbits and the ferrets, and how pretty it was seeing the pigs killed.â
Finding him in this softened mood, Jane saidâ
âI wish youâd tell us how you came to choose our house for your burglaring to-night. I am awfully glad you did. You have been so kind. I donât know what we should have done without you,â she added hastily. âWe all love you ever so. Do tell us.â
The others added their affectionate entreaties, and at last the burglar saidâ
âWell, itâs my first job, and I didnât expect to be made so welcome, and thatâs the truth, young gents and ladies. And I donât know but what it wonât be my last. For this âere cow, she reminds me of my father, and I know âow âeâd âave âided me if Iâd laid âands on a âaâpenny as wasnât my own.â
âIâm sure he would,â Jane agreed kindly; âbut what made you come here?â
âWell, miss,â said the burglar, âyou know best âow you come by them cats, and why you donât like the police, so Iâll give myself away free, and trust to your noble âearts. (Youâd best bale out a bit, the panâs getting fullish.) I was a-selling oranges off of my barrowâfor I ainât a burglar by trade, though you âave used the name so freeâanâ there was a lady bought three âaâporth off me. Anâ while she was a-pickinâ of them outâvery careful indeed, and Iâm always glad when them sort gets a few over-ripe onesâthere was two other ladies talkinâ over the fence. Anâ one on âem said to the other on âem just like thisâ
ââIâve told both gells to come, and they can doss in with Mâria and Jane, âcause their boss and his missis is miles away and the kids too. So they can just lock up the âouse and leave the gas a-burning, soâs no one wonât know, and get back bright anâ early by âleven oâclock. And weâll make a night of it, Mrs Prosser, so we will. Iâm just a-going to run out to pop the letter in the post.â And then the lady what had chosen the three haâporth so careful, she said: âLor, Mrs Wigson, I wonder at you, and your hands all over suds. This good gentlemanâll slip it into the post for yer, Iâll be bound, seeing Iâm a customer of his.â So they give me the letter, and of course I read the direction what was written on it afore I shoved it into the post. And then when Iâd sold my barrowful, I was a-goinâ âome with the chink in my pocket, and Iâm blowed if some bloominâ thievinâ beggar didnât nick the lot whilst I was just a-wettinâ of my whistle, for callinâ of oranges is dry work. Nicked the bloominâ lot âe didâand me with not a farden to take âome to my brother and his missus.â
âHow awful!â said Anthea, with much sympathy.
âHorful indeed, miss, I believe yer,â the burglar rejoined, with deep feeling. âYou donât know her temper when sheâs roused. Anâ Iâm sure I âope you never may, neither. And Iâd âad all my oranges off of âem. So it came back to me what was wrote on the ongverlope, and I says to myself, âWhy not, seeinâ as Iâve been done myself, and if they keeps two slaveys there must be some pickings?â Anâ so âere I am. But them cats, theyâve brought me back to the ways of honestness. Never no more.â
âLook here,â said Cyril, âthese cats are very valuableâvery indeed. And we will give them all to you, if only you will take them away.â
âI see theyâre a breedy lot,â replied the burglar. âBut I donât want no bother with the coppers. Did you come by them honest now? Straight?â
âThey are all our very own,â said Anthea, âwe wanted them, but the confidementââ
âConsignment,â whispered Cyril, âwas larger than we wanted, and theyâre an awful bother. If you got your barrow, and some sacks or baskets, your brotherâs missus would be awfully pleased. My father says Persian cats are worth pounds and pounds each.â
âWell,â said the burglarâand he was certainly moved by her remarksââI see youâre in a holeâand I donât mind lending a helping âand. I donât ask âow you come by them. But Iâve got a palââeâs a mark on cats. Iâll fetch him along, and if he thinks theyâd fetch anything above their skins I donât mind doinâ you a kindness.â
âYou wonât go away and never come back,â said Jane, âbecause I donât think I COULD bear that.â
The burglar, quite touched by her emotion, swore sentimentally that, alive or dead, he would come back.
Then he went, and Cyril and Robert sent the girls to bed and sat up to wait for his return. It soon seemed absurd to await him in a state of wakefulness, but his stealthy tap on the window awoke them readily enough. For he did return, with the pal and the barrow and the sacks. The pal approved of the cats, now dormant in Persian repletion, and they were bundled into the sacks, and taken away on the barrowâmewing, indeed,
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