he had done this, he
lifted the wing with the six string-ends dangling from it and said to Peter,
"Stick out your arm."
"You're absolutely mad!" the smaller boy shouted. "You're
demented!"
"Make ' im stick it out," Ernie said to
Raymond.
Raymond held up a clenched fist in front of Peter's face and dabbed it gently
against his nose. "You see this," he said. "Well I'm goin ' to smash you right in the kisser with it unless you
do exactly as you're told, see? Now, stick out your arm, there's a good little
boy."
Peter felt his resistance collapsing. He couldn't hold out against these people
any longer. For a few seconds, he stared at Ernie. Ernie with the tiny
close-together black eyes gave the impression he would be capable of doing just
about anything if he got really angry. Ernie, Peter felt at that moment, might
quite easily kill a person if he were to lose his temper. Ernie, the dangerous
backward child, was playing games now and it would be very unwise to spoil his
fun. Peter held out an arm.
Ernie then proceeded to tie the six string ends one by one to Peter's arm, and
when he had finished, the white wing of the swan was securely attached along
the entire length of the arm itself.
" Ow's that, eh?" Ernie said, stepping back
and surveying his work.
"Now the other one," Raymond said, catching on to what Ernie was
doing. "You can't expect ' im to go flyin ' round the sky with only one wing, can you?"
"Second wing comin ' up," Ernie said. He
knelt down again and tied six more lengths of string to the top bones of the
second wing. Then he stood up again. "Let's ' ave the other arm," he said. Peter, feeling sick and ridiculous, held out his
other arm. Ernie strapped the wing tightly along the length of it.
"Now!" Ernie cried, clapping his hands and
dancing a little jig on the grass. "Now we got ourselves a real live swan
all over again! Didn't I tell you I was a magic man ? Didn't I tell you I was goin ' to do a magic trick and
make this dead swan come alive and go flyin ' all over
the sky? Didn't I tell you that?"
Peter stood there in the sunshine beside the lake on this beautiful May
morning, the enormous, limp and slightly bloodied wings dangling grotesquely at
his sides. "Have you finished?" he said.
"Swans don't talk," Ernie said. "Keep your flippin '
beak shut! And save your energy, laddie , because
you're goin ' to need all the strength and energy you
got when it comes to flyin ' round in the sky."
Ernie picked up his gun from the ground, then he
grabbed Peter by the back of the neck with his free hand and said,
"March!"
They marched along the bank of the lake until they came to a tall and graceful
willow tree. There they halted. The tree was a weeping willow, and the long
branches hung down from a great height and almost touched the surface of the
lake.
"And now the magic swan is goin ' to show us a
bit of magic flyin '," Ernie announced. "So
what you're goin ' to do, Mister Swan, is to climb up
to the very top of this tree, and when you get there you're goin '
to spread out your wings like a clever little swannee -swan-swan
and you're goin ' to take off!"
"Fantastic!" cried Raymond. "Terrific! I like it very much!"
"So do I ," Ernie said. "Because now
we're goin ' to find out just exactly ' ow clever this clever little swannee -swan-swan
really is. He's terribly clever at school, we all know that, and ' ee's top of the class and everything else that's lovely,
but let's see just exactly ' ow clever ' ee is when ' ee's at the top of
the tree! Right, Mister Swan?" He gave Peter a push towards the tree.
How much further could this madness go? Peter wondered. He was beginning to
feel a little mad himself, as though nothing was real any more and none of it
was actually happening. But the thought of being high up in the tree and out of
reach of these hooligans at last was something that appealed to him greatly.
When he was up there, he could stay up there. He doubted very much if they
would bother
lifted the wing with the six string-ends dangling from it and said to Peter,
"Stick out your arm."
"You're absolutely mad!" the smaller boy shouted. "You're
demented!"
"Make ' im stick it out," Ernie said to
Raymond.
Raymond held up a clenched fist in front of Peter's face and dabbed it gently
against his nose. "You see this," he said. "Well I'm goin ' to smash you right in the kisser with it unless you
do exactly as you're told, see? Now, stick out your arm, there's a good little
boy."
Peter felt his resistance collapsing. He couldn't hold out against these people
any longer. For a few seconds, he stared at Ernie. Ernie with the tiny
close-together black eyes gave the impression he would be capable of doing just
about anything if he got really angry. Ernie, Peter felt at that moment, might
quite easily kill a person if he were to lose his temper. Ernie, the dangerous
backward child, was playing games now and it would be very unwise to spoil his
fun. Peter held out an arm.
Ernie then proceeded to tie the six string ends one by one to Peter's arm, and
when he had finished, the white wing of the swan was securely attached along
the entire length of the arm itself.
" Ow's that, eh?" Ernie said, stepping back
and surveying his work.
"Now the other one," Raymond said, catching on to what Ernie was
doing. "You can't expect ' im to go flyin ' round the sky with only one wing, can you?"
"Second wing comin ' up," Ernie said. He
knelt down again and tied six more lengths of string to the top bones of the
second wing. Then he stood up again. "Let's ' ave the other arm," he said. Peter, feeling sick and ridiculous, held out his
other arm. Ernie strapped the wing tightly along the length of it.
"Now!" Ernie cried, clapping his hands and
dancing a little jig on the grass. "Now we got ourselves a real live swan
all over again! Didn't I tell you I was a magic man ? Didn't I tell you I was goin ' to do a magic trick and
make this dead swan come alive and go flyin ' all over
the sky? Didn't I tell you that?"
Peter stood there in the sunshine beside the lake on this beautiful May
morning, the enormous, limp and slightly bloodied wings dangling grotesquely at
his sides. "Have you finished?" he said.
"Swans don't talk," Ernie said. "Keep your flippin '
beak shut! And save your energy, laddie , because
you're goin ' to need all the strength and energy you
got when it comes to flyin ' round in the sky."
Ernie picked up his gun from the ground, then he
grabbed Peter by the back of the neck with his free hand and said,
"March!"
They marched along the bank of the lake until they came to a tall and graceful
willow tree. There they halted. The tree was a weeping willow, and the long
branches hung down from a great height and almost touched the surface of the
lake.
"And now the magic swan is goin ' to show us a
bit of magic flyin '," Ernie announced. "So
what you're goin ' to do, Mister Swan, is to climb up
to the very top of this tree, and when you get there you're goin '
to spread out your wings like a clever little swannee -swan-swan
and you're goin ' to take off!"
"Fantastic!" cried Raymond. "Terrific! I like it very much!"
"So do I ," Ernie said. "Because now
we're goin ' to find out just exactly ' ow clever this clever little swannee -swan-swan
really is. He's terribly clever at school, we all know that, and ' ee's top of the class and everything else that's lovely,
but let's see just exactly ' ow clever ' ee is when ' ee's at the top of
the tree! Right, Mister Swan?" He gave Peter a push towards the tree.
How much further could this madness go? Peter wondered. He was beginning to
feel a little mad himself, as though nothing was real any more and none of it
was actually happening. But the thought of being high up in the tree and out of
reach of these hooligans at last was something that appealed to him greatly.
When he was up there, he could stay up there. He doubted very much if they
would bother
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