Mrs. Pringle of Fairacre Read Online Free PDF Page A

not only to deliver two marrows. Now I knew his real motive.
    'Well, it was cold enough,' I said. I was careful to remain unforthcoming. Village prattle grows as it spreads, like bindweed.
    'But I bet you had a battle with our Mrs Sunshine,' responded Mr Willet, unabashed.
    I confessed that I had.
    'You don't want to worry overmuch about her feelin's,' he said, sturdily. 'She's been the same since she was so high.'
    He held a horny hand six inches from the floor.
    'Always a tartar, that one. Why, I can tell you how I first rumbled our Mrs Pringle, and I bet she remembers it as well as I do.'
    'But I oughtn't to keep you,' I began weakly.
    Bob Willet settled back in his chair. 'It was like this,' he said.

    As a child, Bob Willet had lived in a cottage between the villages of Springbourne and Fairacre. There were several children, and Bob's mother was well known as a fine disciplinarian, a good mother and an exemplary housewife.
    In Springbourne itself was another family, the Picketts,
who did not come up to Mrs Willet's high standards. One of the sons, Ted Pickett, attended Fairacre School and often called on his way to pick up the Willet children.
    Mrs Willet senior was not best pleased at this attention, and hoped that Bob's obvious admiration for Ted, a year or two older than he was, would soon fade. But the friendship grew stronger as the days passed, and Bob's mother resigned herself to the inevitable.
    One day, in the summer holidays when Bob was about eight and Ted nearing ten, the two boys wandered into Fairacre and sat on a sunny bank by the roadside.
    In those days there was a sizeable duck pond in Fairacre, and the boys watched the ducks going about their lawful occasions. It was too hot to be energetic, and the lads were content to loll back chewing grass and wishing they had a penny, or even a halfpenny, to buy liquorice strips or four gob-stoppers from the village shop.
    Before long, a little girl about Bob's age appeared on the other side of the pond where a duck board sloped from the further bank into the water. She took up her position at the top of the board and made clucking noises. The ducks, excited and trusting, rushed towards her in a flurry of wings and water.
    'Wotcher!' shouted Ted, languidly.
    'Who is she?' asked Bob.
    'That Maud.'
    'What Maud?'
    'Comes to stop with the Bakers. Auntie or something.'
    Bob knew the Bakers. They were an elderly childless couple living in a neat bungalow at the other end of Springbourne. No one knew much about them, and they 'kept themselves to themselves' as the villagers said, usually with approval.
    The general feeling was that it was good of them to
have young Maud Gordon now and again, to give her mother a rest. She was a singularly unattractive child which made their kindness even more laudable. Mrs Baker and Mrs Gordon, it was understood, had been in service together and had remained friends.

    'Them ducks wants some bread,' yelled Ted, hands behind his head and legs stretched out in the sunshine.
    Maud tossed her head, and then put out her tongue.
    'Watch it!' shouted Ted. 'You'll be stuck like it if the wind changes!'
    Bob was a silent admirer of these witticisms from his hero, but did not attempt to add his share.
    Maud squatted down on the board and began to splash water over the milling crowd of ducks. They quacked and flapped but did not retreat, still hoping, no doubt, that food would soon be forthcoming.
    'Watch your step, Maudie!' bawled Ted, and at that the girl stood up, slipped on the slimy board and landed with one leg sunk deep into the muddy water and one outstretched on the duckboard. Her cotton skirt was stained and dripping, and she was gasping with shock.
    Bob was half-frightened although he could see that very little had happened to the girl. But Ted put back his head and roared his amusement to the blue sky above.
    'That'll learn you,' he wheezed. 'Teasin' them poor birds! Serves you right. Now run home and tell yer auntie. She'll give you