by Enid Blyton
That made everyone laugh. ‘Now come on,’ said Julian, briskly. ‘We really must clear away the dinner things. We three boys will carry out the loaded trays and you girls can wash up. And DON’T let Mischief think he can carry teapots or milk-jugs.’
Jenny was very pleased with their help. She was short and fat, and waddled rather than walked, but managed to get here and there remarkably quickly.
‘I’ll show your visitors their bedrooms after we’ve cleared,’ she said. ‘But, you know, Tinker, those mattresses we sent to be remade haven’t come back yet. I’ve told your father a dozen times to telephone about them, but I’m sure he hasn’t remembered.’
‘Oh, JENNY!’ said Tinker, in dismay. ‘That means that the two beds for visitors can’t be slept in! What ever are we to do?’
‘Well, your Dad will have to ring up for new mattresses to be sent today,’ said Jenny. ‘Maybe they would send them out by van.’
Tinker immediately became a furniture van and rushed down the passage, into the dining-room and back again, Mischief following him in delight. He made a noise exactly like a slow-moving van, and the children couldn’t help laughing.
The Professor shot out of his study, his hands to his ears. ‘TINKER! COME HERE!’
‘No thanks,’ said Tinker, warily. ‘Sorry, Father. I was a van bringing the mattresses you forgot to order for the beds for visitors.’
But the Professor didn’t seem to hear. He advanced on Tinker, who fled upstairs with Mischief leaping after him. Professor Hayling turned on Jenny.
‘Can’t you keep the children quiet? What do I pay you for?’
‘Cleaning, cooking and washing,’ she said, briskly. ‘But I’m not a nurse for children, sir. That Tinker of yours could do with half a dozen nurses, and he’d still be a nuisance to you while he was in the house. Why don’t you let him take his tent and camp out in the field with his friends? It’s hot weather and those new mattresses haven’t come, and they’d all love it. I can cook for the children and take them out meals - or they could come and fetch them.’
The Professor looked as if he could give Jenny a big hug. The children waited eagerly to see what he would say. Camping out - that would be fun in this weather - and honestly, living in the same house as the Professor wasn’t going to be much fun. Timmy gave a little whine as if to say, ‘Fine idea! Let’s go at once!’
‘Good idea, Jenny. VERY good idea!’ said Professor Hayling. ‘But that monkey’s to camp out too. Then perhaps he won’t jump in at my workroom window and fiddle about with my models!’
He marched back into his study and slammed the door so hard that the whole house shook. Timmy was startled and gave a yelp. Mischief the monkey leapt up the stairs, howling in fright. Tinker began to dance round in joy, and very firmly Jenny took hold of him and propelled him into her big, clean kitchen.
‘Wait, Jenny, I’ve remembered something. We’ve only one tent, and that’s mine, a small one. I’ll have to ask Dad if I can get two big ones!’ And before anyone could stop him he was banging at the Professor’s door, then flung it open, and shouted out his request.
‘WE WANT TWO MORE TENTS, DAD. CAN I BUY THEM?’
‘For goodness sake, Tinker, clear out and leave me alone!’ shouted his father. ‘Buy six tents if you want them, but GET OUT!’
‘Ooh, thanks, Dad!’ said Tinker, and was just slipping out of the door when his father yelled again.
‘But what on earth do you want TENTS for?’
Tinker slammed the door and grinned at the others. ‘I’d better buy Dad a new memory. He’s only just told us we can camp out, and he knows there’s only my very small tent - almost a toy one.’
‘I’m glad we shan’t be in the house,’ said Anne. ‘I know what a nuisance it is to George’s father to have us around, playing about. We’ll be better out of the way.’
‘Camping out again!’ said George, very pleased. ‘Let’s catch the bus back home and get our own tents. I’ve got them all stored away in the garden shed. We can ask Jim the Carrier to fetch them, when we’ve found them.’
‘He’s calling here today - I’ll give him the message for you, if you like,’ said Jenny. ‘The sooner you get the tents, the better. It was a kind thought of the master’s to ask you all here, but I just knew it wouldn’t work! You’ll be all right out in the fields at the back of the house - he won’t hear a thing, not even if you all yell together! So you get your tents and put them up, and I’ll see what I can find in the way of ground-sheets and rugs.’
‘Don’t bother, Jenny,’ said Julian. ‘We’ve got all those things - we’ve often camped out before.’
‘I only hope there aren’t any cows in the fields,’ said Anne. ‘Last time we camped, a cow put its head into my tent opening, and mooed. I woke up with such a jump, and I was too scared to move.’
‘I don’t think there are any cows,’ said Jenny, laughing. ‘Now I need to get on with the washing-up, so will you bring out the dinner things please - but don’t let that monkey carry anything breakable, for goodness sake! He tried to balance the teapot on his head last week - and that was the end of the teapot!’
Soon everyone was cleaning away with a will, and the two girls helped Jenny with the washing-up.
‘I shall like camping out,’ Anne told her. ‘I’d be scared of staying here in the house. Professor Hayling is a bit like my Uncle Quentin, you know - forgetful, and quick-tempered and a bit shouty.’
‘Oh, you don’t want to be scared of him,’ said Jenny, handing Anne a dish to dry. ‘He’s kind, for all his crossness when he’s upset. Why, when my mother was ill, he paid for her to go into a really good nursing-home - and believe it or not, he gave me money to buy her fruit and flowers!’
‘Oh goodness - that reminds me - we MUST send our cook, Joan, some flowers,’ said George. ‘She has scarlet fever, you know. That’s why we’re here.’
‘Well, you go and telephone the florist,’ said Jenny. ‘I’ll finish this job.’
But George was rather afraid that Professor Hayling might rush out to see who was using the telephone!
‘I’m sure we can buy flowers in Kirrin Village, and have them sent,’ she said. ‘We’ve got to go and get our things ready for the carrier, and I can order the flowers then. We might as well come back on our bicycles - they’d be useful here.’
‘Well, you’d better go now,’ said Jenny, ‘or you won’t be back in time for tea, and then there’d be trouble.’
‘I’ll bring back Anne’s bicycle,’ said Julian. ‘I can easily manage it beside mine, as I ride back.’
‘Look George,’ said Dick, ‘you needn’t come. I’ll order the flowers and I can bring your bike back too. So you stay with Anne.’ Reluctantly George agreed.
Off went Julian and Dick, leaving Tinker and the girls to help Jenny. But Jenny soon sent Tinker off, afraid that he would drop things and break them.
‘You go and be a nice, quiet, purring Rolls Royce at the bottom of the garden,’ she said.‘And when you think you’ve done thirty miles or so, come back for petrol.’
‘Lemonade, you mean!’ said Tinker, with a grin. ‘All right. I haven’t been a Rolls Royce for a long time. Dad won’t hear me right at the bottom of the garden!’
Off he went, and Jenny and the girls finished the washing-up. Mischief was a nuisance and went off with the teaspoons. He leapt to the top of a high cupboard, and dropped them there.
Tinker suddenly put his head in at the window. ‘Come on out in the field, where we’re going to put up our tents,’ he called to Anne and George. ‘We’ll choose a nice sheltered spot. Buck up! You must have finished washing-up by now. I’m tired of being a Rolls Royce!’
‘You go with him, Anne,’ said George. ‘I don’t feel like it just now.’
So down the garden went the two children and out through a gate at the bottom into a big field.
‘Good gracious!’ said Tinker, staring. ‘Look at all those caravans coming in at the gate the other end of the field. I’
ll soon send them off. It’s OUR field!’ And away he marched to the gate in the distance.
‘Come BACK, Tinker,’ shouted Anne. ‘You’ll get into trouble if you interfere. COME BACK!’
But Tinker marched on, his head held high. Ha - he’d soon tell the caravan-folk it was HIS field!
Chapter Five
THE TRAVELLING CIRCUS
Anne watched anxiously as Tinker went on and on over the field. There were now four caravans trundling in, at the far gate, and behind them, in the lane, were vans - enormous vans - all with enormously large words painted on them:
TAPPER’S TRAVELLING CIRCUS
‘Hoo! I’ll tell Mr Tapper what I think of him, coming into my field!’ said Tinker to himself. Mischief the monkey was on his shoulder, jogging up and down as Tinker marched along, muttering furiously.
Four or five children from the caravans looked at him curiously as he marched along. One small boy rushed up to him, shouting in delight to see the monkey.
‘A monkey, look, a monkey!’ he cried. ‘Much smaller than our chimp. What’s he called, boy?’
‘Mind your own business,’ said Tinker. ‘Where’s Mr Tapper?’
‘Mr Tapper? Oh, you mean our Grandad!’ said the boy. ‘He’s over there, look, beside that big van. Better not talk to him now, boy. He’s that busy!’
Tinker walked over to the van and addressed the man there. He was rather fierce-looking and had a long, bushy beard, enormous eye-brows that hung down over his eyes, a rather small nose, and only one ear. He looked inquiringly down at Tinker, and put out his hand to Mischief.
‘My monkey might bite you,’ said Tinker, at once. ‘He doesn’t like strangers.’
‘I’m no stranger to any monkey,’ said the man in a deep-down voice. ‘There isn’t a monkey in the world, nor a chimp either that wouldn’t come to me if I called it. Nor a gorilla, see?’
‘Well, my monkey won’t come to you,’ said Tinker, angrily. ‘But what I’ve come to say is...’
Before he could finish his sentence, the man made a curious noise in his throat - rather like Mischief did when he was pleased about anything. Mischief looked at the man in surprised delight - and then leapt straight from Tinker’s shoulder to his, nuzzling against his neck, making little crooning noises. Tinker was so amazed that he stared without saying a word.
‘See?’ said the man. ‘He’s my little friend already. Don’t gawp so, little fellow. I’ve trained the monkey family all my life. You lend me this little chap and I’ll teach him to ride a small tricycle in two days!’
‘Come here, Mischief!’ said Tinker, amazed and angry at the monkey’s behaviour. But Mischief cuddled down still farther into the big man’s neck. The man hauled him out and handed him to Tinker.
‘There you are,’ he said. ‘Nice little fellow he is. What is it you wanted to say to me?’
‘I’ve come to say that this field belongs to my father, Professor Hayling,’ said Tinker. ‘And you’ve no right to bring your caravans here. So please take them all out. I and my friends are planning to camp out here.’
‘Well, I’ve no objection to that,’ said the big man, good-temperedly. ‘You choose your own corner, young sir. If you don’t interfere with us, we shan’t interfere with you!’
A boy of about Tinker’s age came sidling up, and looked at Tinker and Mischief with interest. ‘Is he selling you that monkey, Grandad?’ he asked.
‘No, I’M NOT!’ almost shouted Tinker. ‘I came to tell you and your caravans to clear out. This field belongs to my family.’
‘Ah, but we’ve an old licence to come here every ten years, and show our circus,’ said the bearded man. ‘And believe it or not, there’s been a Tapper’s circus in this field every ten years since the year 1648. So you just run home and make no silly fuss, young man.’
‘You’re a fibber!’ cried Tinker, losing his temper. ‘I’ll tell the police! I’ll tell my father! I’ll...’
‘Don’t you talk to my old Grandad like that!’ shouted the boy, standing beside the old man. ‘I’ll hit you if you do!’
‘I’ll say what I like!’ shouted Tinker, his temper now quite lost. ‘And just you shut up!’
The very next moment Tinker found himself flat on his back on the grass. The boy had shot out his fist and hit Tinker hard in the chest! He struggled to his feet, red in the face, quite furious.
The old man fended him away. ‘Don’t you be silly now, boy,’ he said. ‘This youngster is a Tapper, like me, and he’ll never give in. You go home and be sensible. We ain’t going to take notice of a hot-headed little kid like you. Our circus is coming in this here field, just like it has for years and years!’
He turned and walked to the nearest caravan. It was drawn by horses, and he clicked to them. They strained forward and the caravan followed. Others behind began to move too. The circus boy put his tongue out at Tinker. ‘Sucks to you!’ he said. ‘Nobody gets the better of my Grandad - or of me either! Still - it was plucky of you to go for him. I enjoyed it.’
‘Shut up!’ said Tinker, alarmed to find himself very near to tears. ‘You just wait till my Dad tells the police! You’ll all go out much quicker than you came in - and one of these days I’ll knock you down!’
He turned and ran back to the gate. He wondered what to do. He had so often heard his father say that the field behind their house belonged to him, and that he had let this or that farmer have the grazing rights for his horses or cattle. How DARE the Travelling Circus come into his father’s field?
‘I’ll tell Dad,’ he said to Anne, who was waiting at the gate. ‘He ought to turn them out! It’s our field and I love it, especially just now when it’s so green and beautiful, and the hedges are just going to be covered in white may. I’ll tell Dad that boy knocked me down - shot out his fist just like that - and down I went. I’d like to do the same to him!’
He went into the house, followed by a puzzled Anne.
He looked into the sitting-room and saw George there.
‘Tinker! That boy knocked you down!’ said Anne, in a horrified voice. ‘Why did he do that?’
‘Oh - just because I told his Grandad to take his caravans away,’ said Tinker, feeling rather grand. ‘He didn’t hurt me at all - just punched me on the chest. Still - I said what I had gone to say.’
‘But will they take the caravans away out of the field?’ asked Anne.
‘I told them I’d tell the police,’ said Tinker. ‘So I bet they’ll skedaddle. They haven’t any right to be there. It’s our field!’
‘Are you going to the police?’ asked George, disbelievingly. ‘I really don’t see why you have to make such a fuss about it all, Tinker. They might make it difficult for us to go camping there.’
‘But I tell you it’s my field - Dad’s always said so!’ said Tinker. ‘He said it wasn’t any use to him, so I could consider it my own. And I do. AND we’re going to camp in it, whatever anyone says! It’s a travelling circus that’s coming there, so the old man said.’
‘Oh TINKER! How marvellous to have a circus at the bottom of the garden!’ said George, her eyes shining, and Anne nodded too. Tinker glared at them.
‘JUST like girls to say a thing like that!’ he said. ‘Would you want people trespassing all over a field that belonged to you, with horses neighing and tigers and lions roaring, and bears grunting, and chimpanzees stealing things - and nasty little circus boys being rude all the time, ready to knock you down.’
‘Oh Tinker! You do make it sound so exciting!’ said George. ‘Will there really be lions and tigers? Suppose one escaped - what a thrill!’
‘Well - I shouldn’t like that,’ said Anne, at once. ‘I don’t particularly want a lion peering in at my window, or a bear clomping round my bedroom!’
‘Neither do I,’ said Tinker, in a most decided voice. ‘That’s why I’m going to tell Dad about it. He’s got the old documents that set out our rights to that field. He showed me them one day. I’ll ask him about them, and if he’ll let me see
them, I’ll take them straight to the police and let them turn out that rude old man and his horrible circus.’
‘How do you know it’s horrible?’ asked George. ‘It might be awfully good. I’m sure they’d let us camp in the corner nearest the garden, and we’d get an awfully good view of what’s going on all the time. Look - there’s your father strolling down the path, smoking a pipe. He never does that if he’s busy. It would be a good time to go and ask him about the document. He might even show it to us.’
‘All right,’ said Tinker, rather sulkily. ‘But you’ll see I’m right. Come on.’
However, Tinker proved to be quite, quite wrong! His father went to fetch the old, yellowed piece of parchment at once. ‘Ha! Here it is!’ he said. ‘It’s pretty valuable too, because it’s so old. It dates back quite a few centuries.’
He undid the rather dirty piece of ribbon round it and unrolled it. Neither the girls nor Tinker could read the old-fashioned lettering.
‘What does it all say?’ asked Anne, with great interest.
‘It says that the field known as “Cromwell’s Corner” is to be held by the Hayling Family for always,’ said Professor Hayling. ‘It was given to them by Cromwell because our family allowed them to camp in that field when they sorely needed a rest after battle. It’s been ours ever since.’
‘So NOBODY else is allowed to camp in it, or use it for grazing or anything, unless we say so!’ said Tinker, triumphantly.
‘Quite right,’ said his father. ‘But wait a minute - I seem to remember an odd clause that said something about a travelling show - a show that had rights to camp in the field since about 1066. Not even Cromwell could alter that - it was in the original deeds, long before Cromwell battled in that district. Now let’s see - that piece would come about the end, I expect.’
The two girls and Tinker waited while the Professor pored over the old and beautiful lettering. He jabbed his finger on to three lines towards the end.