The Old Man's Bag

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by W. W. Jacobs


  "Please measure me for a soldier's suit."]

  "But," said the tailor, "soldiers wear scarlet coats and bluetrousers."

  "That is just the point," said the policeman. "I don't want to be likeall the others. If I did I should go in for khaki. Just you do what Itell you, and make me a green coat and yellow trousers at once."

  The tailor said, "Yes, sir," and went away.

  In a few days he called again, bringing with him a yellow coat andgreen trousers. The policeman could have cried with disappointment.

  "Didn't I tell you quite plainly that I wanted a green coat and yellowtrousers?"

  "I am truly sorry, sir," said the tailor, "but as you no doubt know,the best of us make mistakes sometimes."

  "There is something in that," said the policeman, "and if the suit fitsme I will forgive you."

  Then he went into his dressing-room and put on the yellow coat and thegreen trousers. They fitted him beautifully. So that he forgave thetailor, and sent round to him to say that he would try to pay his billwhen he got some money.

  He began to strut about in his new clothes.]

  After looking at himself a good deal in the mirror the policeman wentout into the street and began to strut about in his new clothes. "Thisis much better than being a policeman," he said, "a policeman haslittle to do, but a soldier has nothing to do till he is sent for tofight. By the way I must go and buy a sword, and then I will go up tothe old man's house and let him see me in my new clothes. Perhaps hewill give me two halfpennies to put in the pockets."

  He bought his sword at the toy shop and went straight to the old man'shouse. When he got there the old woman was in the garden knockingapples off a tree with a clothes prop. No sooner did she see thepoliceman in his yellow coat and green trousers than she ran screaminginto the house, and hid herself under the bed.

  The old woman was knocking apples off a tree.]

  But when the old man saw him he shouted, "Hurrah, hurrah, the redpoliceman has turned soldier. Now we needn't be afraid of him anymore."

  And he called upstairs to his wife, "Come down at once and get me mybag."

  The old woman came downstairs quickly. She took down the bag from itsnail and handed it to her husband. "Run," she said, "as hard as youcan, and bring me a hen and anything else nice that takes your fancy.Bags were made to put things in. And the red policeman--the soldier,that is to say--will stay to dinner."

  The soldier sat down in the chair and lit his pipe, and the old manwent out with the bag. Very soon he returned with two hens, a fat duck,several rolls of butter, a large piece of bacon, some cabbages, someice cream, and two pots of marmalade.

  The old woman cooked everything but the ice cream and the marmalade,and they had a very good dinner indeed.

  "This is much better than being a policeman," said the soldier whenthey had finished.

  "I should just think it was," said the old man.

  "And so should I," said the old woman.

  "Now I must wish you both good evening," said the soldier, "for I hearthe bugle calling."

  CHAPTER VIII.

  When a soldier hears the bugle calling he is bound to go even if hewould like to have stayed for supper. That is why the soldier went.

  "I am glad I am not a soldier," said the old man, "because I do nothave to go when the bugle calls."

  "No," said the old woman, "but you have to go when I tell you, which ispretty much the same thing."

  "Perhaps it is," said the old man.

  "And I think," said the old woman, "that it might be just as well foryou to go out this evening with the bag and get a few nice littlethings for breakfast and dinner to-morrow. For when you come to thinkof it there is no reason why the soldier should not take it into hishead to be a red policeman again, and if he did he would run after uswhen he saw us with the bag. So that we had better get what we wantbefore he changes his mind."

  "A very good idea, my dear," said the old man, "give me the bag and Iwill go out at once."

  The old woman gave him the bag and off he went.

  He was away a very long time. Indeed he did not get back till nearlymidnight. When he set the bag down on the table the old woman could seethat he had got a good many things, because the bag bulged so.

  "How good of you," she said. "Now show me what you have got."

  Then the old man opened the bag. First he pulled out a pretty littlekitten with her mother, an old grey cat.

  "Very nice," said the old woman, "but we can't cook them."

  "You cooked the hens," said the old man.

  Then he pulled out a pillow case full of hay.

  "Quite nice," said the old woman, "but we can't cook it."

  "You cooked the cabbages," said the old man.

  Then he pulled out a box full of pieces of broken glass.

  "Beautiful!" said the old woman, "but we can't eat it."

  "You ate the marmalade fast enough," said the old man.

  Then the old woman said, "If you go on talking so foolishly I shall bevery cross. Turn that cat and her kitten out at once, burn the hay, andthrow the broken glass out of the window."

  "And what shall I do with the bag?" said the old man.

  "You can do just as you please with the bag," said the old woman; "I amgoing to bed."

  And off she went.

  The old man opened the door and turned out the cat and her kitten. Thenhe burnt the hay a little bit at a time on the fire, and threw thebroken glass out of the window.

  After doing this he sat down in his chair to think. "What shall I dowith the bag?" he said to himself. "My wife said I might do what Ipleased with it. Perhaps I had better burn it."

  So he cut it in pieces with a knife, and burnt the pieces on the fire.

  Burnt the pieces on the fire.]

  In the morning when the old woman came downstairs to breakfast shelooked on the nail for the bag, but of course it was not there.

  "What have you done with the bag?" she called to the old man.

  "I have burnt it," said the old man.

  "Why did you burn it?" said the old woman.

  "Guess," said the old man.

  The old woman guessed and guessed and guessed and guessed and guessed.

  But she could not guess right, and the old man had to keep on saying,"Guess again, guess again, guess again."

  Now why did the old man burn his bag?

  You must get your Mamma to tell you.

 


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