Have you ever thought about what fiction is? Probably, such a question may seem surprising: and so everything is clear. Every person throughout his life has to repeatedly create the works he needs for specific purposes - statements, autobiographies, dictations - using not gypsum or clay, not musical notes, not paints, but just a word. At the same time, almost every person will be very surprised if he is told that he thereby created a work of fiction, which is very different from visual art, music and sculpture making. However, everyone understands that a student's essay or dictation is fundamentally different from novels, short stories, news that are created by professional writers. In the works of professionals there is the most important difference - excogitation. But, oddly enough, in a school literature course, you don’t realize the full power of fiction. So using our website in your free time discover fiction for yourself. The Wouldbegoods: Being the Further Adventures of the Treasure Seekers by E. Nesbit (ebook reader for laptop .txt) 📖
- Author: E. Nesbit
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‘Your sentiments, Sir,’ said the Colonel who was one of the politest and most discerning colonels I ever saw, ‘your sentiments do you honour. But, Bastables all, and—and non-Bastables’ (he couldn’t remember Foulkes; it’s not such an interesting name as Bastable, of course)—‘at least you’ll accept a soldier’s pay?’
‘Lucky to touch it, a shilling a day!’ Alice and Denny said together. And the Cocked-Hatted Man said something about knowing your own mind and knowing your own Kipling.
‘A soldier,’ said the Colonel, ‘would certainly be lucky to touch it. You see there are deductions for rations. Five shillings is exactly right, deducting twopence each for six teas.’
This seemed cheap for the three cups of tea and the three eggs and all the strawberry jam and bread-and-butter Oswald had had, as well as what the others ate, and Lady’s and Pincher’s teas, but I suppose soldiers get things cheaper than civilians, which is only right.
Oswald took the five shillings then, there being no longer any scruples why he should not.
Just as we had parted from the brave Colonel and the rest we saw a bicycle coming. It was Albert’s uncle. He got off and said—
‘What on earth have you been up to? What were you doing with those volunteers?’
We told him the wild adventures of the day, and he listened, and then he said he would withdraw the word volunteers if we liked.
But the seeds of doubt were sown in the breast of Oswald. He was now almost sure that we had made jolly fools of ourselves without a moment’s pause throughout the whole of this eventful day. He said nothing at the time, but after supper he had it out with Albert’s uncle about the word which had been withdrawn.
Albert’s uncle said, of course, no one could be sure that the dragon’s teeth hadn’t come up in the good old-fashioned way, but that, on the other hand, it was barely possible that both the British and the enemy were only volunteers having a field-day or sham fight, and he rather thought the Cocked-Hatted Man was not a general, but a doctor. And the man with a red pennon carried behind him MIGHT have been the umpire.
Oswald never told the others a word of this. Their young breasts were all panting with joy because they had saved their country; and it would have been but heartless unkindness to show them how silly they had been. Besides, Oswald felt he was much too old to have been so taken in—if he HAD been. Besides, Albert’s uncle did say that no one could be sure about the dragon’s teeth.
The thing that makes Oswald feel most that, perhaps, the whole thing was a beastly sell, was that we didn’t see any wounded. But he tries not to think of this. And if he goes into the army when he grows up, he will not go quite green. He has had experience of the arts of war and the tented field. And a real colonel has called him ‘Comrade-in-Arms’, which is exactly what Lord Roberts called his own soldiers when he wrote home about them.
CHAPTER 14. ALBERT’S UNCLE’s GRANDMOTHER; OR, THE LONG-LOST
The shadow of the termination now descended in sable thunder-clouds upon our devoted nobs. As Albert’s uncle said, ‘School now gaped for its prey’. In a very short space of time we should be wending our way back to Blackheath, and all the variegated delightfulness of the country would soon be only preserved in memory’s faded flowers. (I don’t care for that way of writing very much. It would be an awful swot to keep it up—looking out the words and all that.)
To speak in the language of everyday life, our holiday was jolly nearly up. We had had a ripping time, but it was all but over. We really did feel sorry—though, of course, it was rather decent to think of getting back to Father and being able to tell the other chaps about our raft, and the dam, and the Tower of Mystery, and things like that.
When but a brief time was left to us, Oswald and Dicky met by chance in an apple-tree. (That sounds like ‘consequences’, but it is mere truthfulness.) Dicky said—
‘Only four more days.’
Oswald said, ‘Yes.’
‘There’s one thing,’ Dickie said, ‘that beastly society. We don’t want that swarming all over everything when we get home. We ought to dissolve it before we leave here.’
The following dialogue now took place:
Oswald—‘Right you are. I always said it was piffling rot.’
Dicky—‘So did I.’
Oswald—‘Let’s call a council. But don’t forget we’ve jolly well got to put our foot down.’
Dicky assented, and the dialogue concluded with apples.
The council, when called, was in but low spirits. This made Oswald’s and Dicky’s task easier. When people are sunk in gloomy despair about one thing, they will agree to almost anything about something else. (Remarks like this are called philosophic generalizations, Albert’s uncle says.) Oswald began by saying—
‘We’ve tried the society for being good in, and perhaps it’s done us good. But now the time has come for each of us to be good or bad on his own, without hanging on to the others.’
‘The race is run by one and one, But never by two and two,’the Dentist said.
The others said nothing.
Oswald went on: ‘I move that we chuck—I mean dissolve—the Wouldbegoods Society; its appointed task is done. If it’s not well done, that’s ITS fault and not ours.’
Dicky said, ‘Hear! hear! I second this prop.’
The unexpected Dentist said, ‘I third it. At first I thought it would help, but afterwards I saw it only made you want to be naughty, just because you were a Wouldbegood.’
Oswald owns he was surprised. We put it to the vote at once, so as not to let Denny cool. H. O. and Noel and Alice voted with us, so Daisy and Dora were what is called a hopeless minority. We tried to cheer their hopelessness by letting them read the things out of the Golden Deed book aloud. Noel hid his face in the straw so that we should not see the faces he made while he made poetry instead of listening, and when the Wouldbegoods was by vote dissolved for ever he sat up, straws in his hair, and said—
THE EPITAPH
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