told him, “Mr Bluenose read The Jungle Books to Bagheera. He gave us some Granny Smiths, and I ate a big one while I was running over to the shops. I’ll feed the chooks. Where’s Milly?”
“I fed them. She’s around somewhere.”
“Milly! Time to—” Before I could finish, she was rubbing my legs. I picked her up, and told her about Bagheera, about his chin and eyes, and how he killed a huge rat and unrolled its skin on the Council Rock, but she jumped down and rubbed herself against Dad.
“You’d think she’d want to hear about her brother.”
“She’s embarrassed because she hasn’t caught a rat herself. And she might just be more interested in these.” Dad was filling the roasting dish with swollen sausages out of the saucepan.
“I love them done in the oven,” I said. “Specially when you simmer them first.”
“It’s the simmering makes the sawdust inside them swell up.”
“Mr Cleaver said he’ll biff you one, if you keep saying his snarlers are full of sawdust.”
“You didn’t tell him I said that?”
“Mrs Dainty was there, and she sniffed and said she wouldn’t have sausages, thank you, not if they were filled with sawdust.”
“You’ll get me hanged. What’s happening down at the orchard?”
“The apple trees look as if they’ve had their fingers cut off. Horse was wearing his cover ‘cause he’s feeling the frosts, and most of the pigs have gone. Bagheera scared me in the dark under the macrocarpas. I thought he was Kaa.
“Dad, Mr Bryce knew about the Snake’s Call, and he said I’d be safe if I remembered to say it before going into the dark tunnel.”
“We be of one blood, thee and Milly and me,” Dad said, and Milly miaowed and rubbed herself harder against his legs.
“Fancy Mr Bluenose and Mr Bryce knowing about Mowgli.” I was spreading the tablecloth.
“They’d have read The Jungle Books when they were boys.” Dad handed me the knives and forks. “Mr Bluenose must have had a translation.”
“Did you read them?”
“Yes, and your mother, of course. And now you and Milly.”
“And Bagheera. Just think, all around the world, people have been reading The Jungle Books. Except for Freddy Jones. I bet he’d be too scared.”
Dad cooks the best sausages, gravy, and mashed potatoes in the world. He boils the potatoes in the same water, and mashes them with salt, a bit of butter, and milk. Mmm—the smell when Dad opens the oven and takes out the roasting dish full of round, glistening, shiny-brown sausages with crunchy skins. The pop as the skin splits when you stick in your fork, the juice, the first mouthful, the taste and feel in my mouth. Mmm! The only trouble is the evil cabbage.
“If Mrs Dainty cooked roast sausages with gravy and mashed potatoes—” I wiped my mouth all around with my tongue “—then Mr Dainty wouldn’t have run away.”
“Don’t you go saying that outside these four walls.”
“I wonder if he had to eat evil cabbage all the time?”
Dad said nothing.
I kept half a sausage for the end, held my nose andfinished the last mouthful of cabbage. My tongue wrinkled and curled up round the edges as I spread mashed potato and gravy all over it to take the taste away, then ate a bit of sausage, then another, till there was only the last little bit looking at me.
“Sorry,” I told it and gobbled it down.
Chapter Twenty-One
Sharp Shoulder Blades Sticking Out Like Knives, Dancing Like Redskins on the Warpath, and Digging a New Dunny.
D AD REACHED OVER and gave me half of his last sausage.
“Are you sure?”
“There’s a couple left over.” Dad licked his lips. “I can always eat them after you’ve gone to bed.”
“I thought they were for lunch tomorrow…”
The tiger smiled and licked his lips again.
“Promise you won’t get up in the middle of the night and eat them? Why are you putting your hands behind your back? Dad, you crossed your fingers. You’ve got to hold both hands out where I can see. Now
“I fed them. She’s around somewhere.”
“Milly! Time to—” Before I could finish, she was rubbing my legs. I picked her up, and told her about Bagheera, about his chin and eyes, and how he killed a huge rat and unrolled its skin on the Council Rock, but she jumped down and rubbed herself against Dad.
“You’d think she’d want to hear about her brother.”
“She’s embarrassed because she hasn’t caught a rat herself. And she might just be more interested in these.” Dad was filling the roasting dish with swollen sausages out of the saucepan.
“I love them done in the oven,” I said. “Specially when you simmer them first.”
“It’s the simmering makes the sawdust inside them swell up.”
“Mr Cleaver said he’ll biff you one, if you keep saying his snarlers are full of sawdust.”
“You didn’t tell him I said that?”
“Mrs Dainty was there, and she sniffed and said she wouldn’t have sausages, thank you, not if they were filled with sawdust.”
“You’ll get me hanged. What’s happening down at the orchard?”
“The apple trees look as if they’ve had their fingers cut off. Horse was wearing his cover ‘cause he’s feeling the frosts, and most of the pigs have gone. Bagheera scared me in the dark under the macrocarpas. I thought he was Kaa.
“Dad, Mr Bryce knew about the Snake’s Call, and he said I’d be safe if I remembered to say it before going into the dark tunnel.”
“We be of one blood, thee and Milly and me,” Dad said, and Milly miaowed and rubbed herself harder against his legs.
“Fancy Mr Bluenose and Mr Bryce knowing about Mowgli.” I was spreading the tablecloth.
“They’d have read The Jungle Books when they were boys.” Dad handed me the knives and forks. “Mr Bluenose must have had a translation.”
“Did you read them?”
“Yes, and your mother, of course. And now you and Milly.”
“And Bagheera. Just think, all around the world, people have been reading The Jungle Books. Except for Freddy Jones. I bet he’d be too scared.”
Dad cooks the best sausages, gravy, and mashed potatoes in the world. He boils the potatoes in the same water, and mashes them with salt, a bit of butter, and milk. Mmm—the smell when Dad opens the oven and takes out the roasting dish full of round, glistening, shiny-brown sausages with crunchy skins. The pop as the skin splits when you stick in your fork, the juice, the first mouthful, the taste and feel in my mouth. Mmm! The only trouble is the evil cabbage.
“If Mrs Dainty cooked roast sausages with gravy and mashed potatoes—” I wiped my mouth all around with my tongue “—then Mr Dainty wouldn’t have run away.”
“Don’t you go saying that outside these four walls.”
“I wonder if he had to eat evil cabbage all the time?”
Dad said nothing.
I kept half a sausage for the end, held my nose andfinished the last mouthful of cabbage. My tongue wrinkled and curled up round the edges as I spread mashed potato and gravy all over it to take the taste away, then ate a bit of sausage, then another, till there was only the last little bit looking at me.
“Sorry,” I told it and gobbled it down.
Chapter Twenty-One
Sharp Shoulder Blades Sticking Out Like Knives, Dancing Like Redskins on the Warpath, and Digging a New Dunny.
D AD REACHED OVER and gave me half of his last sausage.
“Are you sure?”
“There’s a couple left over.” Dad licked his lips. “I can always eat them after you’ve gone to bed.”
“I thought they were for lunch tomorrow…”
The tiger smiled and licked his lips again.
“Promise you won’t get up in the middle of the night and eat them? Why are you putting your hands behind your back? Dad, you crossed your fingers. You’ve got to hold both hands out where I can see. Now
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