William the Fourth Read Online Free PDF

class. But as he sat on the wall and watched Miss Tabitha Croft timidly and flutteringly
superintending the unloading of her furniture at her little cottage gate, he came to the conclusion that she would be very inoffensive indeed. He also came to the conclusion that he was going to
like her. William generally got on well with timid people. He was not timid himself. He was small and freckled and solemn and possessed of great tenacity of purpose for his eleven years.
    Miss Tabitha, happening to look up from the debris of a small table which one of the removers had carelessly and gracefully crushed against the wall, saw a boy perched on her wall, scowling at
her. She did not know that the scowl was William’s ordinary normal expression. She smiled apologetically
    ‘Good afternoon,’ she said.
    ‘Arternoon,’ said William.
    There was silence for a time while another of the removers took the door off its hinges with little or no effort by means of a small piano which he then placed firmly upon another
remover’s foot. Then the silence was broken. During the breaking of silence, William’s scowl disappeared and a rapt smile appeared on his face.
    ‘Can’t they think of things to say? he said delightedly to Miss Tabitha when a partial peace was restored.
    Miss Tabitha raised a face of horror and misery
    ‘Oh, dear!’ she said in a voice that trembled, ‘it’s simply dreadful!’
    William’s chivalry (that curious quality) was aroused. He leapt heavily from the wall.
    ‘I’ll help,’ he said airily. ‘Don’t you worry’
    He helped.
    He staggered from the van to the house and from the house to the van. He worked till the perspiration poured from his freckled brow. He broke two candlesticks, a fender, a lamp, a statuette, and
most of a breakfast service. After each breakage he said, ‘Never mind,’ comfortingly to Miss Tabitha and put the pieces tidily in the dustbin. When he had filled the dustbin he arranged
them in a neat pile by the side of it. He was completely master of the situation. Miss Tabitha gave up the struggle and sat on a packing-case in the kitchen with some sal-volatile and
smelling-salts. One of the removers gave William a drink of cold tea – another gave him a bit of cold sausage. William was blissfully, riotously happy. The afternoon seemed to fly on wings.
He tore a large hole in his knickers and upset a tin of paint, which he found on a window sill, down his jersey. At last the removers departed and William proudly surveyed the scene of his labours
and destruction.
    ‘Well,’ he said, ‘I bet things would have been a lot different if I hadn’t helped.’
    ‘I’m sure they would,’ said Miss Tabitha with perfect truth.
    ‘Seems about tea-time, doesn’t it?’ went on William gently.
    Miss Tabitha gave a start and put aside the sal-volatile.
    ‘Yes; do stay and have some here.’
    ‘Thanks,’ said William simply, ‘I was thinking you’d most likely ask me.’
    Over the tea (to which he did full justice in spite of his previous repast of cold tea and sausage) William waxed very conversational. He told her of his friends and enemies (chiefly enemies) in
the neighbourhood – of Farmer Jones who made such a fuss over his old apples, of the Rev. P. Craig who entered into a base conspiracy with parents to deprive quite well-meaning boys of their
Sunday afternoon freedom. ‘If Sunday school’s so nice an’ good for folks as they say it is,’ said William bitterly, ‘why don’t they go? I
wun’t mind them going.’
    He told her of Ginger’s air-gun and his own catapult, of the dead rat they found in the ditch and the house they had made of branches in the wood, of the dare-devil career of robber and
outlaw he meant to pursue as soon as he left school. In short, he admitted her unreservedly into his friendship.
    And while he talked, he consumed large quantities of bread and jam and butter and cakes and pastry. At last he rose.
    ‘Well,’ he said, ‘I s’pose