Young Phillip Maddison Read Online Free PDF Page A

another of the brothers being rude to them. Where you, Phillip, get it from beats me! Not from my side of the family certainly, nor do you get it from your Mother. In future let there be a great improvement in the matter—please! Do you hear me?”
    “Yes, Father.”
    Hetty came cheerfully into the kitchen. “Well Dickie, I’ll soon have your meal ready. I do hope the fog did not delay you.”
    “Oh, it is hardly more than a mist. Well, I was about to remark to Phillip that I saw a big dark bird flying over the Hill just now, but perhaps he is too deep in study to take it in.”
    Phillip pretended to be studying gerundives, pluperfects, and past participles.
    “Phillip dear, your Father——”
    “Oh, don’t disturb the student——”
    Phillip looked up. “Oh, I hope it was a tawny owl, Father!”
    Both father and son tried to pretend to themselves that their surroundings were still part of the country.
    “I fancy it was larger than a tawny owl. They live in the big trees in Twistleton Road, I have heard them ever since the time when I played tennis there, years ago. No, this bird was a big fellow—possibly an Eagle Owl, or a Snowy Owl. Are there plates of any owls in that book you got from the library last week?”
    “I don’t know, Father,” Phillip replied, in a weak voice. He pretended to be studying the primer; but sat brittle and thudding.
    “Has it gone back yet?”
    Richard sat down to remove his boots. Phillip did not know what to answer.
    “I don’t know, Father.”
    “You don’t know?”
    “I mean—I mean——”
    “He’s trying to learn his Latin, Dickie,” said Hetty.
    “Oh, I see! Your best boy has turned over a new leaf, evidently! Well, I’ll disturb him no more.”
    Phillip sat easier as Father, having changed his boots for carpet slippers, went upstairs to wash. When he came down again, he wore his smoking jacket, which he put on when he was in a good mood. It was of dark blue velvet, an old one which Uncle John had sent him. Phillip felt that Father wasn’t so bad when he put on the “smoker”, as he called it. The frogs across the front made Richard think of Sherlock Holmes, of a world quite different from the one he was living.
    When Father’s tray had been taken down by Mavis, and all was quiet down in the sitting room, Phillip said, to his Mother making some coffee, “I think I’ll go to the Library now, Mum.”
    “Very well, dear. Don’t be late, will you?”
    “No, Mum.”
    Outside in the hall Polly beckoned to him. She held out the card. The sitting room door was shut. Phillip pulled the mantle chain, to get more light by which to examine the precious Valentine. There it was, on thick white album paper; a bunch of bluebells, and the poem underneath, in neat black writing. Polly had an envelope, too, addressed to Miss Helena Rolls. Was it all right? Yes, said Phillip, it was wonderful.
    “Now I’ll slip up and put it in the letter box. I hope their bulldog doesn’t bark! Wish me luck, Polly. You know how I feel, don’t you?”
    “I think so. She is pretty, isn’t she?” said dark little Polly.
    “She’s wonderful! Of course, I’ve no chance. Still, one day, perhaps. I hope it’s foggy, then no one will see me. So long!”
    He put on his coat. He was shivering. “I’ll be back in half a mo. Then I must hop along to the library, and get rid of that awful book. My lord, if I escape this time, I swear I’ll never do it again.”
    “Why did you, Phillip?”
    “For fun, you know. Of course it’s the Shag that’s dangerous. I could be sent away to the reformatory for that. Oh dear. What shall I do?”
    “Well, deliver the Valentine first, and I’ll wait in the front room, and let you in when you come back. Then get the book, and change it, but look ordinary when you do so, then they won’t think anything’s the matter.”
    “All right. See you later.”
    *
    If you open a letter box in a door on a cold foggy night, and you feel a warm air on your