The Milly-Molly-Mandy Storybook

by Joyce Lankester Brisley

When Milly-Molly-Mandy woke up on Monday-bank-holiday morning she thought to herself, “Oh, dear! It is a grey sort of day – I do hope it isn’t going to rain!”

  But anyhow she knew she was going to enjoy herself, and she jumped up and washed and dressed and put on her hat and the satchel strap over her shoulder.

  And then the sunshine came creeping over the trees outside, and Milly-Molly-Mandy saw that it had only been a grey day because she was up before the sun – and she felt a sort of little skip inside, because she was so very sure she was going to enjoy herself!

  Just then there came a funny gritty sound like a handful of earth on the window pane, and when she put her head out there was Billy Blunt, eating a large piece of bread-and-butter and grinning up at her, looking very businesslike with rod and line and jam-jar and bulging satchel.

  Milly-Molly-Mandy called out of the window in a loud whisper, “Isn’t it a lovely day? I’m just coming!”

  And Billy Blunt called back in a loud whisper, “Come on! Hurry up! It’s getting late.”

  So Milly-Molly-Mandy hurried up like anything, and picked up her things and ran creeping downstairs, past Father’s and Mother’s room, and Grandpa’s and Grandma’s room, and Uncle’s and Aunty’s room. And she filled her bottle at the tap in the scullery, and took up the thick slice of bread-and-butter which Mother had left between two plates ready for her breakfast, and unlocked the back door and slipped out into the fresh morning air.

  And there they were, off on their Monday-bank-holiday expedition!

  “Isn’t it lovely!” said Milly-Molly-Mandy, with a little hop.

  “Umm! Come on!” said Billy Blunt.

  So they went out of the back gate and across the meadow to the brook, walking very business-likely and enjoying their bread-and-butter very thoroughly.

  “We’ll go that way,” said Billy Blunt, “because that’s the way we don’t generally go.”

  “And when we come to a nice place we’ll fish,” said Milly-Molly-Mandy.

  OFF ON THEIR MONDAY BANK-HOLIDAY EXPEDITION

  “But that won’t be for a long way yet,” said Billy Blunt.

  So they went on walking very business-likely (they had eaten their bread-and-butter by this time) until they had left the nice white cottage with the thatched roof a long way behind, and the sun was shining down quite hotly.

  “It seems like a real expedition when you have the whole day to do it in, doesn’t it?” said Milly-Molly-Mandy. “I wonder what the time is now!”

  “Not time for dinner yet,” said Billy Blunt. “But I could eat it.”

  “So could I,” said Milly-Molly-Mandy. “Let’s have a drink of water.” So they each had a little tin mug full of water, and drank it very preciously to make it last, as the bottle didn’t hold much.

  The brook was too muddy and weedy for drinking, but it was a very interesting brook. One place, where it had got rather blocked up, was just full of tadpoles – they caught ever so many with their hands and put them in the jam-jars, and watched them swim about and wiggle their little black tails and open and shut their little black mouths. Then farther on were lots of stepping-stones in the stream, and Milly-Molly-Mandy and Billy Blunt had a fine time scrambling about from one to another.

  Billy Blunt slipped once, with one foot into the water, so he took off his boots and socks and tied them round his neck. And it looked so nice that Milly-Molly-Mandy took off one boot and sock and tried it too. But the water and the stones were so-o cold that she put them on again, and just tried to be fairly careful how she went. But even so she slipped once, and caught her frock on a branch and pulled the button off, and had to fasten it together with a safety-pin. (So wasn’t it a good thing she had brought one with her?)

  Presently they came to a big flat mossy stone beside the brook. And Milly-Molly-Mandy said, “That’s where we ought to eat our dinners, isn’t it? I wonder what the time is now!”

  Billy Blunt looked round and considered; and then he said, “Somewhere about noon, I should say. Might think about eating soon, as we had breakfast early. Less to carry, too.”

  And Milly-Molly-Mandy said, “Let’s spread it out all ready, anyhow! It’s a lovely place here.”

  So they laid the food out on the flat stone, with the bottle of water and little tin mug in the middle, and it looked so good and they felt so hungry that, of course, they just had to set to and eat it all up straight away.

  And it did taste nice!

  And the little black tadpoles in the glass jam-jars beside them swam round and round, and wiggled their little black tails and opened and shut their little black mouths; till at last Milly-Molly-Mandy said, “We’ve taken them away from their dinners, haven’t we? Let’s put them back now.”

  And Billy Blunt said, “Yes. We’ll want the pots for real fishes soon.”

  So they emptied the tadpoles back into the brook where they wiggled away at once to their meals.

  “Look! There’s a fish!” cried Milly-Molly-Mandy, pointing. And Billy Blunt hurried and fetched his rod and line, and settled to fishing in real earnest.

  Milly-Molly-Mandy went a little farther downstream, and poked about with her net in the water; and soon she caught a fish, and put it in her jam-jar, and ran to show it to Billy Blunt. And Billy Blunt said, “Huh!” But he said it wasn’t proper fishing without a rod and line, so it didn’t really count.

  But Milly-Molly-Mandy liked it quite well that way, all the same.

  So they fished and they fished along the banks and sometimes they saw quite big fish, two or three inches long, and Billy Blunt got quite excited and borrowed Milly-Molly-Mandy’s net; and they got a number of fish in their jam-jars.

  “Oh, don’t you wish we’d brought our teas too, so we could stay here a long, long time?” said Milly-Molly-Mandy.

  “Umm,” said Billy Blunt. “We ought to have done. Expect we’ll have to be getting back soon.”

  So at last as they got hungry, and thirsty too (having finished all the bottle of water), they began to pack up their things and Billy Blunt put on his socks and boots. And they tramped all the way back, scrambling up and down the banks, and jumping the stepping-stones.

  When they got near home Milly-Molly-Mandy said doubtfully, “What about our fishes?”

  And Billy Blunt said, “We don’t really want ’em now, do we? We only wanted a fishing expedition.”

  So they counted how many there were (there were fifteen), and then emptied them back into the brook, where they darted off at once to their meals.

  And Milly-Molly-Mandy and Billy Blunt went on up through the meadow to the nice white cottage with the thatched roof, feeling very hungry, and hoping they weren’t too badly late for tea.

  And when they got in Father and Mother and Grandpa and Grandma and Uncle and Aunty were all sitting at table, just finishing – what do you think?

  Why, their midday dinner!

  Milly-Molly-Mandy and Billy Blunt couldn’t think how it had happened. But when you get up so very early to go on fishing expeditions, and get so very hungry, well, it is rather difficult to reckon the time properly!

  18

  Milly-Molly-Mandy Helps to Thatch a Roof

  Once upon a time it was a very blustery night, so very blustery that it woke Milly-Molly-Mandy right up several times.

  Milly-Molly-Mandy’s little attic bedroom was just under the thatched roof, so she could hear the wind blowing in the thatch, as well as rattling her little low window, and even shaking her door.

  Milly-Molly-Mandy had to pull the bedclothes well over her ears to shut out some of the noise before she could go to sleep at all, and so did Father and Mother and Grandpa and Grandma and Uncle and Aunty, in their bedrooms. It was so very blustery.

  The next morning, when Milly-Molly-Mandy woke up properly, the wind was still very blustery, though it didn’t sound quite so loud as it did in the dark.

  Milly-Molly-Mandy sat up in her little bed, thinking, “What a noisy night it was!” And she looked toward her litt
le low window to see if it were raining.

  But what do you think she saw? Why, lots of long bits of straw dangling and swaying just outside from the edge of the thatched roof above. And when she got up and looked out of her little low window she saw – why! – lots of long bits of straw lying all over the grass, and all over the flower-beds, and all over the hedge!

  Milly-Molly-Mandy stared round, thinking, “It’s been raining straw in the night!”

  And then she thought some more. And suddenly she said right out loud, “Ooh! The wind’s blowing our nice thatched roof off!”

  And then Milly-Molly-Mandy didn’t wait to think any longer, but ran barefooted down into Father’s and Mother’s room, calling out, “Ooh! Father and Mother! The wind’s blowing our nice thatched roof off, and it’s lying all over the garden!”

  Then Father jumped out of bed, and put his boots on his bare feet, and his big coat over his pyjamas, and ran outside to look. And Mother jumped out of bed, and wrapped the down-quilt round Milly-Molly-Mandy, and went with her to the window to look (but there wasn’t anything to see from there).

  Then Father came back to say that one corner of the thatched roof was being blown off, and it would have to be seen to immediately before it got any worse. And then everybody began to get dressed.

  Milly-Molly-Mandy thought it was kind of funny to have breakfast just the same as usual while the roof was blowing off. She felt very excited about it, and ate her porridge nearly all up before she even remembered beginning it!

  “When shall you see to the roof?” asked Milly-Molly-Mandy. “Directly after breakfast?”

  And Father said, “Yes, it must be seen to as soon as possible.”

  “How will you see to it?” asked Milly-Molly-Mandy. “With a long ladder?”

  And Father said, “No, it’s too big a job for me. We must send to Mr Critch the Thatcher, and he’ll bring a long ladder and mend it.”

  Milly-Molly-Mandy felt sorry that Father couldn’t mend it himself, but it would be nice to see Mr Critch the Thatcher mend it.

  Directly after breakfast Aunty put on her hat and coat to go down to the village with the message; and Milly-Molly-Mandy put on her hat and coat and went with her, because she wanted to see where Mr Critch the Thatcher lived. And as they went out of the gate the wind got another bit of thatch loose on the roof, and blew it down at them; so they hurried as fast as they could, along the white road with the hedges each side, down to the village.

  But when Aunty knocked at Mr Critch the Thatcher’s door (he lived in one of the little cottages just by the pond where the ducks were), Mrs Critch, the Thatcher’s wife, opened it (and her apron blew about like a flag, it was so windy).

  And Mrs Critch, the Thatcher’s wife, said she was very sorry, but Mr Critch had just gone off in a hurry to mend another roof, and she knew he would not be able to come to them for a couple of days at the earliest, because he was so rushed – “what with this wind and all,” said Mrs Critch.

  “Dear, dear!” said Aunty. “Whatever shall we do?”

  Mrs Critch was sorry, but she did not know what they could do, except wait until Mr Critch could come.

  “Dear, dear!” said Aunty. “And meantime our roof will be getting worse and worse.”

  Then Aunty and Milly-Molly-Mandy said good morning to Mrs Critch, and went out through her little gate into the road again.

  “Father will have to mend it now, won’t he, Aunty?” said Milly-Molly-Mandy.

  “It isn’t at all easy to thatch a roof,” said Aunty. “You have to know how. I wonder what we can do!”

  They set off back home along the white road with the hedges each side, and Aunty said, “Well, there must be a way out, somehow.” And Milly-Molly-Mandy said, “I expect Father will know what to do.”

  So they hurried along, holding their hats on.

  As they passed the Moggs’ cottage they saw little-friend-Susan trying to hang a towel on the line, with the wind trying all the time to wrap her up in it.

  Milly-Molly-Mandy called out, “Hullo, Susan! Our roof’s being blown off, and Mr Critch the Thatcher can’t come and mend it, so Father will have to. Do you want to come and see?” Little-friend-Susan was very interested, and as soon as she had got the towel up she came along with them.

  When Father and Mother and Grandpa and Grandma and Uncle heard their news they all looked as if they were saying, “Dear, dear!” to themselves. But Milly-Molly-Mandy looked quite pleased, and said, “Now you’ll have to mend the roof, won’t you, Father?”

  And Father looked at Uncle, and said, “Well, Joe. How about it?” And Uncle said, “Right, John!” in his big voice.

  And then Father and Uncle buttoned their jackets (so that the wind shouldn’t flap them), and fetched ladders (to reach the roof with), and a rake (to comb the straw tidy with), and wooden pegs (with which to fasten it down). And then they put one ladder so that they could climb up to the thatched roof, and another ladder with hooks on the end so that they could climb up on the thatched roof; and then Father gathered up a big armful of straw, and he and Uncle set to work busily to mend the hole in the thatch as well as they could, till Mr Critch the Thatcher could come.

  Milly-Molly-Mandy and little-friend-Susan, down below, set to work busily to collect the straw from the hedges and the flower-beds and the grass, piling it up in one corner, ready for Father when he came down for another armful. And they helped to hold the ladder steady, and handed up sticks for making the pattern round the edge of the thatch, and fetched things that Father or Uncle called out for, and were very useful indeed.

  Soon the roof began to look much better.

  Then Father fetched a big pair of shears, and he snip-snip-snipped the straggly ends of the straw all round Milly-Molly-Mandy’s little bedroom window up under the roof. (Milly-Molly-Mandy thought it was just like the nice white cottage having its hair cut!) And then Father and Uncle stretched a big piece of wire netting over the mended place, and fastened it down with pegs. (Milly-Molly-Mandy thought it was just like the nice white cottage having a hair-net put on and fastened with hairpins!)

  SOON THE ROOF BEGAN TO LOOK MUCH BETTER

  And then the roof was all trim and tidy again, and they wouldn’t feel in any sort of a hurry for Mr Critch the Thatcher to come and thatch it properly.

  “Isn’t it a lovely roof?” said Milly-Molly-Mandy. “I knew Father could do it!”

  “Well, you can generally manage to do a thing when you have to, Milly-Molly-Mandy,” said Father, but he looked quite pleased with himself, and so did Uncle.

  And when they saw what a nice snug roof they had now, so did Mother and Grandpa and Grandma and Aunty and Milly-Molly-Mandy!

  19

  Milly-Molly-Mandy Keeps House

  Once upon a time Milly-Molly-Mandy was left one evening in the nice white cottage with the thatched roof to keep house.

  There was something called a political meeting being held in the next village (Milly-Molly-Mandy didn’t know quite what that meant, but it was something to do with voting, which was something you had to do when you grew up), and Father and Mother and Grandpa and Grandma and Uncle and Aunty all thought they ought to go to it.

  Milly-Molly-Mandy said she would not mind one bit being left, especially if she could have little-friend-Susan in to keep her company.

  So Mother said, “Very well then, Milly-Molly-Mandy, we’ll have little-friend-Susan in to keep you company. And you needn’t open the door if anyone knocks unless you know who it is. And I’ll leave you out some supper, in case we may be a little late getting back.”

  Little-friend-Susan was only too pleased to come and spend the evening with Milly-Molly-Mandy. So after tea she came in; and then Father and Mother and Grandpa and Grandma and Uncle and Aunty put on their hats and coats, and said goodbye, and went off.

  And Milly-Molly-Mandy and little-friend-Susan shut the door carefully after them, and there they were, all by themselves, keeping house!

  “What fun!” said little
-friend-Susan. “What’ll we do?”

  “Well,” said Milly-Molly-Mandy, “if we’re housekeepers I think we ought to wear aprons.”

  So they each tied on one of Mother’s aprons.

  And then little-friend-Susan said, “Now if we’ve got aprons on we ought to work.”

  So Milly-Molly-Mandy fetched a dustpan and brush and swept up some crumbs from the floor; and little-friend-Susan folded the newspaper that was lying all anyhow by Grandpa’s chair and put it neatly on the shelf. And then they banged the cushions and straightened the chairs, feeling very housekeeperish indeed.

  Then little-friend-Susan looked at the plates of bread-and-dripping on the table, with the jug of milk and two little mugs. And she said, “What’s that for?”

  And Milly-Molly-Mandy said, “That’s for our supper. But it isn’t time to eat it yet. Mother says we can warm the milk on the stove, if we like, in a saucepan.”

  “What fun!” said little-friend-Susan. “Then we’ll be cooks. Couldn’t we do something to the bread-and-dripping too?”

  So Milly-Molly-Mandy looked at the bread-and-dripping thoughtfully, and then she said, “We could toast it – at the fire!”

  “Oh, yes!” said little-friend-Susan. And then she said, “Oughtn’t we to begin doing it now? It takes quite a long time to cook things.”

  So Milly-Molly-Mandy said, “Let’s!” and fetched a saucepan, and little-friend-Susan took up the jug of milk, and then – suddenly – “Bang-bang-bang!” went the door knocker, ever so loudly.

  “Ooh!” said little-friend-Susan, “that did make me jump! I wonder who it is!”

  “Ooh!” said Milly-Molly-Mandy. “We mustn’t open the door unless we know. I wonder who it can be!”

  So together they went to the door, and Milly-Molly-Mandy put her mouth to the letter-box and said politely, “Please, who are you, please?”