The Serial Garden: The Complete Armitage Family Stories by Garth Nix, Joan Aiken, Andi Watson, Lizza Aiken Page B
Tags: Fiction, General, Humorous stories, Action & Adventure, Family, Juvenile Fiction, Magic, Fantasy & Magic, Family Life, Short Stories, Short Stories (Single Author), Families
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astonishment and told him what a lucky young boy he was and how they had always wanted one when they were young.
Mark's heart glowed.
"It's just the thing for Harriet's present,” he thought. “She's always wanted one, and she'll absolutely love it. Maybe she'll lend it to me sometimes too."
Then, because it was causing almost too much excitement in the bus, he pushed it into his pocket, where it was a rather tight fit.
A sudden thought struck him. The little man had said that he would get a fine present if he went on the Q bus, and he had got one, which just showed that even magicians didn't know what was going to happen. Or perhaps they did know? It was a bit confusing, and Mark slouched back in his seat and watched the misty evening grow darker and darker outside as it slipped past. He wondered how far Harriet had got with their secret house in the willow tree before the German measles struck her down.
He arrived exactly in time for the theatre and enjoyed it so much that he forgot all about his adventure until they were at home, making bacon and eggs. Then he told Aunt Hal about it and showed her the present. She whistled.
"Good gracious,” she said, “that's better luck than you deserve. What a marvelous one. Harriet will be knocked sideways."
Mark yawned frightfully, and said he thought he would go to bed. One of the best things about staying with Aunt Hal was that she let you go to bed when you liked, or stay up all night if you preferred.
"I'd better say good-bye now,” she said, “as I don't suppose you'll be awake when I go off in the morning. Give my love to the family and tell Harriet that she won't get my birthday present till the proper day."
"What is it?” he asked, but she only grinned at him and said, “Wait and see."
So Mark had a boiling bath, and, after carefully putting Harriet's wonderful present in the top left-hand drawer, where he would be sure to remember it, he climbed into bed and went to sleep.
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Dragon Monday
* * * *
* * * *
Mark sat in the train and wished that he could go to sleep. He had been to the dentist and had a local injection, and his cheek still felt most peculiar. He didn't like it at all. So he counted sheep earnestly, but the sheep were obstinate animals, and wouldn't do as they were told, and the train was an extremely rowdy one—he could hear it all the time saying to itself, “What-did-you-say? Stick-in-the-mud! That's-what-I-said. Stick-in-the-mud!” It was a slow little train, plodding along over the march from Cobchester to Tallant, and, try as Mark would, he could not make it go any faster. He urged it on under his breath and even tried reciting Horatius to it, but it only staggered along more sleepily, and stopped here and there at Oghan, and Naghan, and Liddle Halt, while Mark fumed and looked at his watch.
The fact of the matter was that it was a Monday. That may not mean much to you, but in the Armitage family, it meant a great deal. For on Mondays, very strange things were apt to happen at Wittsuns, the Armitage house, and no one could ever tell what would appear next. One Monday, for instance, they had had a plague of hippogriffs, and another time, coming home from a walk, Mark and his sister had found the whole place turned into a Pyramid, and their parents changed to mummies—a most inconvenient state of affairs. But luckily it did not last long.
So naturally Mark was in a hurry to get home in case Harriet had been having some amazing adventures while Mr. Leacock picked among his teeth. He wandered up and down the carriage, and hung out of the window, and read a magazine which he had already read twice before, and finally settled down and tried to go to sleep again.
This time the sheep were more obedient. They jumped over the stile, but Mark noticed that they found it harder and harder to get over, until they had to creep up one side, foot by foot, and then flock down the other. Were they very old sheep? Or what
Mark's heart glowed.
"It's just the thing for Harriet's present,” he thought. “She's always wanted one, and she'll absolutely love it. Maybe she'll lend it to me sometimes too."
Then, because it was causing almost too much excitement in the bus, he pushed it into his pocket, where it was a rather tight fit.
A sudden thought struck him. The little man had said that he would get a fine present if he went on the Q bus, and he had got one, which just showed that even magicians didn't know what was going to happen. Or perhaps they did know? It was a bit confusing, and Mark slouched back in his seat and watched the misty evening grow darker and darker outside as it slipped past. He wondered how far Harriet had got with their secret house in the willow tree before the German measles struck her down.
He arrived exactly in time for the theatre and enjoyed it so much that he forgot all about his adventure until they were at home, making bacon and eggs. Then he told Aunt Hal about it and showed her the present. She whistled.
"Good gracious,” she said, “that's better luck than you deserve. What a marvelous one. Harriet will be knocked sideways."
Mark yawned frightfully, and said he thought he would go to bed. One of the best things about staying with Aunt Hal was that she let you go to bed when you liked, or stay up all night if you preferred.
"I'd better say good-bye now,” she said, “as I don't suppose you'll be awake when I go off in the morning. Give my love to the family and tell Harriet that she won't get my birthday present till the proper day."
"What is it?” he asked, but she only grinned at him and said, “Wait and see."
So Mark had a boiling bath, and, after carefully putting Harriet's wonderful present in the top left-hand drawer, where he would be sure to remember it, he climbed into bed and went to sleep.
[Back to Table of Contents]
Dragon Monday
* * * *
* * * *
Mark sat in the train and wished that he could go to sleep. He had been to the dentist and had a local injection, and his cheek still felt most peculiar. He didn't like it at all. So he counted sheep earnestly, but the sheep were obstinate animals, and wouldn't do as they were told, and the train was an extremely rowdy one—he could hear it all the time saying to itself, “What-did-you-say? Stick-in-the-mud! That's-what-I-said. Stick-in-the-mud!” It was a slow little train, plodding along over the march from Cobchester to Tallant, and, try as Mark would, he could not make it go any faster. He urged it on under his breath and even tried reciting Horatius to it, but it only staggered along more sleepily, and stopped here and there at Oghan, and Naghan, and Liddle Halt, while Mark fumed and looked at his watch.
The fact of the matter was that it was a Monday. That may not mean much to you, but in the Armitage family, it meant a great deal. For on Mondays, very strange things were apt to happen at Wittsuns, the Armitage house, and no one could ever tell what would appear next. One Monday, for instance, they had had a plague of hippogriffs, and another time, coming home from a walk, Mark and his sister had found the whole place turned into a Pyramid, and their parents changed to mummies—a most inconvenient state of affairs. But luckily it did not last long.
So naturally Mark was in a hurry to get home in case Harriet had been having some amazing adventures while Mr. Leacock picked among his teeth. He wandered up and down the carriage, and hung out of the window, and read a magazine which he had already read twice before, and finally settled down and tried to go to sleep again.
This time the sheep were more obedient. They jumped over the stile, but Mark noticed that they found it harder and harder to get over, until they had to creep up one side, foot by foot, and then flock down the other. Were they very old sheep? Or what
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