Edith Nesbit: Children's Books Collection (Illustrated Edition). Эдит Несбит

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СКАЧАТЬ we got a lot of bluebells and we trampled out the fire most carefully, because we know about not setting woods and places alight, rolled up our clothes in bundles, and went out of the shadowy woodland into the bright sunlight, as sparkling looking a crew of gipsies as any one need wish for.

      Last time we had seen the road it had been quite white and bare of persons walking on it, but now there were several. And not only walkers, but people in carts. And some carriages passed us too.

      Every one stared at us, but they did not seem so astonished as we had every right to expect, and though interested they were not rude, and this is very rare among English people—and not only poor people either—when they see anything at all out of the way.

      We asked one man, who was very Sunday-best indeed in black clothes and a blue tie, where every one was going, for every one was going the same way, and every one looked as if it was going to church, which was unlikely, it being but Thursday. He said—

      "Same place wot you're going to I expect."

      And when we said where was that we were requested by him to get along with us. Which we did.

      An old woman in the heaviest bonnet I have ever seen and the highest—it was like a black church—revealed the secret to us, and we learned that there was a Primrose fête going on in Sir Willoughby Blockson's grounds.

      We instantly decided to go to the fête.

      "I've been to a Primrose fête, and so have you, Dora," Oswald remarked, "and people are so dull at them, they'd gladly give gold to see the dark future. And, besides, the villages will be unpopulated, and no one at home but idiots and babies and their keepers."

      So we went to the fête.

      The people got thicker and thicker, and when we got to Sir Willoughby's lodge gates, which have sprawling lions on the gate-posts, we were told to take the donkey cart round to the stable-yard.

      This we did, and proud was the moment when a stiff groom had to bend his proud stomach to go to the head of Bates's donkey.

      "This is something like," said Alice, and Noël added:

      "The foreign princes are well received at this palace."

      "We aren't princes, we're gipsies," said Dora, tucking his scarf in. It would keep on getting loose.

      "There are gipsy princes, though," said Noël, "because there are gipsy kings."

      "You aren't always a prince first," said Dora; "don't wriggle so or I can't fix you. Sometimes being made a king just happens to some one who isn't any one in particular."

      "I don't think so," said Noël; "you have to be a prince before you're a king, just as you have to be a kitten before you're a cat, or a puppy before you're a dog, or a worm before you're a serpent, or——"

      "What about the King of Sweden?" Dora was beginning, when a very nice tall, thin man, with white flowers in his buttonhole like for a wedding, came strolling up and said—

      "And whose show is this? Eh, what?"

      We said it was ours.

      "Are you expected?" he asked.

      We said we thought not, but we hoped he didn't mind.

      "What are you? Acrobats? Tight-rope? That's a ripping Burmese coat you've got there."

      "Yes, it is. No we aren't," said Alice, with dignity. "I am Zaïda, the mysterious prophetess of the golden Orient, and the others are mysterious too, but we haven't fixed on their names yet."

      "By jove!" said the gentleman; "but who are you really?"

      "Our names are our secret," said Oswald, with dignity, but Alice said, "Oh, but we don't mind telling you, because I'm sure you're nice. We're really the Bastables, and we want to get some money for some one we know that's rather poor—of course I can't tell you her name. And we've learnt how to tell fortunes—really we have. Do you think they'll let us tell them at the fête. People are often dull at fêtes, aren't they?"

      "By Jove!" said the gentleman again—"by Jove, they are!"

      He plunged for a moment in deep reflection.

      "We've got co—musical instruments," said Noël; "shall we play to you a little?"

      "Not here," said the gentleman; "follow me."

      He led the way by the backs of shrubberies to an old summer-house, and we asked him to wait outside.

      Then we put on our veils and tuned up. "See, see the conquering——"

      But he did not let us finish the tune; he burst in upon us, crying—

      "Ripping—oh, ripping! And now tell me my fortune."

      Alice took off her veil and looked at his hand.

      "You will travel in distant lands," she said; "you will have great wealth and honour; you will marry a beautiful lady—a very fine woman, it says in the book, but I think a beautiful lady sounds nicer, don't you?"

       "WE'VE GOT MUSICAL INSTRUMENTS," SAID NOËL.

      "Much; but I shouldn't mention the book when you're telling the fortune."

      "I wouldn't, except to you," said Alice, "and she'll have lots of money and a very sweet disposition. Trials and troubles beset your path, but do but be brave and fearless and you will overcome all your enemies. Beware of a dark woman—most likely a widow."

      "I will," said he, for Alice had stopped for breath. "Is that all?"

      "No. Beware of a dark woman and shun the society of drunkards and gamblers. Be very cautious in your choice of acquaintances, or you will make a false friend who will be your ruin. That's all, except that you will be married very soon and live to a green old age with the beloved wife of your bosom, and have twelve sons and——"

      "Stop, stop!" said the gentleman; "twelve sons are as many as I can bring up handsomely on my present income. Now, look here. You did that jolly well, only go slower, and pretend to look for things in the hand before you say them. Everything's free at the fête, so you'll get no money for your fortune-telling."

      Gloom was on each young brow.

      "It's like this," he went on, "there is a lady fortune-teller in a tent in the park."

      "Then we may as well get along home," said Dicky.

      "Not at all," said our new friend, for such he was now about to prove himself to be; "that lady does not want to tell fortunes to-day. She has a headache. Now, if you'll really stick to it, and tell the people's fortunes as well as you told mine, I'll stand you—let's see—two quid for the afternoon. Will that do? What?"

      We said we should just jolly well think it would.

      "I've got some Eau de Cologne in a medicine-bottle," Dora said; "my brother Noël has headaches sometimes, but I think he's going to be all right to-day. Do take it, СКАЧАТЬ