Mystery of the Strange Messages Read Online Free PDF Page B

It's worth trying, anyhow."
    "Yes. And surely we ought to be able to find the house
sailed The Ivies?" said Daisy.
    "I've looked in the street directory and examined the names
there of every house in Pcterswood, and I'm sure Goon has too," said
Fatty, gloomily. "There isn't a single one called The Ivies', not a single
one."
    "What about Marlow?" said Daisy. "There might be a
house called The Ivies' there."
    "There might. And there might be one in Maidenhead and one in
Taplow," said Fatty. "But it would take absolutely ages to look up
all the houses in the directory."
    "What a pity the man took the name of Smith—the man who
apparently lives at The Ivies," said Pip. "There are so many
Smiths."
    "Yes. I looked them up in the telephone directory to start
with," said Fatty. "There are dozens there—and this man may not even
be on the telephone. We can't go ringing up all the Smiths in the neighbourhood
to find out if any of them have a false name!"
    "No. Of course not," said Pip.
    "Well, I simply do not see how we can even make a
start," said Larry. "Have you any ideas. Fatty?"
"None." said Fatty. "Ern—what about you?" Ern looked
startled. "Well—if you haven't got any ideas, 'tisn't likely I
would," he said. "You're the cleverest of us all. Fatty, you know you
are."
    "Let's have a biscuit and some lemonade," said Fatty. "And
Ern—what about that poem of yours? Did you bring it along?"
    "Er—well, yes, T did," said Ern, blushing, and dived
into deep recesses of his clothing. He brought out a little black notebook, and
opened it.
    "Read away," said Fatty, handing round the biscuits.
"We're waiting. Ern."
    So Ern, looking very serious, read out his newest "Pome"
as he called it.
    " "the old old
house. by Ern Goon.
    There was a poor old house.
    That once was full of folk,.
    But now was sad and empty.
    And tome it spoke.
    It said, 'They all have left me,.
    The rooms are cold and bare.
    The front door's locked and bolted...' "
    Ern stopped, and looked at the others. "Well, go on, Ern—it's
very good," said Fatty, encouragingly.
    "I'm stuck there," said Ern, looking miserable. "It
took me six months to write those lines—and now I can't go on. I suppose you
can't help me. Fatty? You're so good at making up poetry."
    Fatty laughed. "Yes—I can tell you how your poem goes on,
Ern. Here, let me read what you've written— and when I come to the end of it, I'll let my tongue go loose, and
maybe we'll see what the end of the verse is. Here goes!"
    And Fatty began to read Em's poem out again. He didn't stop when he
came to where Ern had finished. No—he went straight on, just as though he was
reading more and more lines! No wonder Ern stared in the greatest astonishment!
    "There was a poor old house.
    That once was full of folk,.
    But now was sad and empty,.
    And to me it spoke.
    It said, 'They all have fled.
     My rooms are cold and bare,.
    The front door's locked and bolted,.
    And all the windows stare.
    No smoke comes from my chimneys,.
    No rose grows up my wall,.
    But only ivy shrouds me,.
    In green and shining shawl!
    No postman brings me letters,.
    No name is on my gate,.
    I once was called The Ivies,.
    But now I'm out of date,.
    The garden's poor and weedy,.
    The trees won't leaf again,.
    But though I fall to ruin,.
    The ivy—will—remain!".
    There was a silence after this. Everyone stared at Fatty in
astonishment and admiration. Ern hadn't a word to say. He sat open-mouthed. How did Fatty do it? He, Ern, had
slaved for six months over the first few lines—and then Fatty had stood up and
recited the rest. Without even thinking! And Ern sorrowfully confessed to himself that Fatty's lines were much
better than his.
    He found his tongue at last. "Well, it's what I thought.
    You're a genius. Fatty, and I'm not. That's your pome, not
mine."
    "No, Ern. It's yours. You began it, and I expect
that's how it was meant to go," * said Fatty, smiling. "I shouldn't
have been able to think of the ending, if you hadn't thought of