Jennings and His Friends

by Antony Buckeridge

  "Wonderful!" said Jennings. "And we can give the winners big cakes."

  "But we haven't any big cakes," said Darbishire.

  "I know, but if I ask my Aunt Angela to send me two big cakes for the competition she will certainly do it."

  Chapter Eight

  The Form Three Times

  The following morning Jennings and Darbishire hung the first issue of the Form Three Times on the notice-board. There were a lot of boys near it and they liked the newspaper. There was only one boy who did not like it. It was Temple. He did not like it because there wasn't a story about his football boot. He had already found his boot, but he was ready to hide it again because he wanted to read his story in the newspaper.

  There was another boy who could not say anything good about the newspaper. He could not say anything bad about it either. He did not see the newspaper. It was Bromwich.

  Jennings saw him in the tuck-box room. Bromwich was making a toy bus for his little brother.

  "Have you seen my newspaper," Jennings began.

  "No, I haven't," answered Bromwich. "All the time you lose your things and think that every boy must know where they are."

  "No, I haven't lost it! I mean have you seen it up in the wall?"

  Bromwich looked at Jennings in surprise.

  "How could it get up there?" he asked.

  Jennings explained, and Bromwich decided to go and see the newspaper.

  When they came to the common room a lot of boys were still standing near the wall newspaper. They were talking about the two competitions and the two big cakes.

  "I could do with one of these big cakes," said Temple.

  "I think I'll try to write a poem," said Atkinson. He turned to Venables who was standing near him. "You can take part in the other competition - you have a beautiful handwriting."

  "I don't know," said Venables. "I haven't decided yet which competition I shall take part in." He came up to the notice-board and began to read the rules: "Those who want to take part in the competitions must send their poems or twenty lines of their best handwriting by Friday. Do not write on one side of the paper..." here Venables stopped. "I say, Darbishire, came here. I don't understand this rule. If we can't write on one side of the paper, what can we do?

  Darbishire came up. He was the author of the rules. "You can write on the other side, can't you?" he asked.

  "How shall we know which the other side is?"

  "It doesn't matter. I mean that it will be better if you only write on one side at a time, or.."

  "You want to say we mustn't write on more that two sides of the paper?" asked Atkinson.

  "No, you mustn't write on more that one side of the paper," said Darbishire.

  Venables turned to the rules. "Take your poems or twenty lines of your best handwriting to the tuck-box room, and do not forget to write 'Competition' in the top left-hand corner."

  "I can't reach the top left-hand corner of the tuck-box room if I don't stand on the table," said Atkinson.

  "It doesn't mean that! You don't want to understand," said Darbishire and left the common room.

  * * *

  When Jennings woke up next morning the first think he thought about was food. Jennings liked to eat and he often thought about food when he woke up. But this time he didn't think about the food that he wanted to eat. He thought about the two big cakes and the parcel of fish.

  He knew that Darbishire could help him to get the parcel back. But how could he get two big cakes? His Aunt Angela was a very kind woman, but she very often forgot things. He decided to write to her at once.

  He began the letter during the first break and finished it during Mr Hind's history lesson.

  Before the football game, as Jennings and Darbishire were putting on their football boots, Jennings said to his friend, "Don't forget, Darbi. After the game is over I'll run to Old Wilkie's room and you must keep him on the field. Ask him any questions that you like, but don't let him go before you see me wave from the school yard. That will mean that I've got the parcel from the chimney."

  "All right," answered Darbishire.

  The weather was bad that afternoon and Mr Wilkins was not sorry when the game was over. At once Darbishire came up to him.

  "Sir, please, sir, will you explain something, please, sir?"

  "Well, what is it? Hurry up, I don't want to stay here all day."

  "Well, sir, if, for example, I was centre forward for the white shirts and I kicked the ball to Temple who was on my right, and there was nobody in front of him, and he didn't get the ball, and Venables, who was centre forward for the green shirts, got it and kicked it to Jennings who kicked it to Atkinson who played for the green shirts, and Bromwich was coming behind him in a white shirts, and there was nobody in front of him, will it be off side, sir?"

  "I don't understand you, Darbishire. Will who be off side?"

  "Well, Bromwich, for example, sir. Or if not Bromwich, then one of the others."

  "I don't understand what you are talking about. Darbishire. Let's go to my room, and I'll give you a book of rules of the game." He turned and left the football field.

  "Oh, don't go, sir. Please, don't go. Do you think I played well this afternoon, sir?"

  "No, I don't think so, Darbishire."

  "Can you show me how to play football well, sir?"

  "Not in these shoes, thank you," Mr Wilkins pointed to his new shoes. "Then it's too cold here. I'm going to my room to light the fire. The Headmaster is going to visit me at 4 o'clock, and... Well Darbishire, where are your spectacles?"

  "My spectacles!" exclaimed Darbishire. "I've lost hem. I know I had them when we began to play."

  Mr Wilkins and Darbishire went back to the football field. After some time they found the spectacles near the goal.

  "Jennings has had a lot of time to get that parcel from the chimney, my spectacles helped him," thought Darbishire. He thanked Mr Wilkins for help and let him go.

  Chapter Nine

  Jennings and Darbishire go fishing

  Jennings hurried from the football field and went to Mr Wilkins' room. He opened the door and went in. He looked at the fireplace. A fire was laid and Jennings understood that Mr Wilkins was going to light the fire. "It's a good thing I've come now," he thought.

  He hurried to the fireplace and put his hand up the chimney. There was nothing there.

  "Old Wilkie has found it," he said to himself. "No," he thought at once, "Old Wilkie is not a man to keep it a secret."

  Jennings put his head up the chimney but he couldn't see anything.

  At that moment he heard footsteps in the corridor. "Will they pass by or will they come in?" he thought.

  The door opened and Mr Pemberton, the Headmaster, stood in the doorway. Mr Pemberton looked at Jennings and saw soot on his face and hands.

  "May I ask what you are doing, Jennings?"

  "I... I... was putting my head up the chimney, sir."

  "I can see that, but I can't understand why!"

  "I wanted to see how far I could see up the chimney."

  "I see." Mr Pemberton was an old teacher. He knew that twelve-year-old boys could sometimes do the things that no teacher could hope to understand. So he wasn't surprised when Jennings told him why he was putting his head up the chimney.

  "I think, Jennings, that Mr Wilkins has sent you here," said the Headmaster. "But you mustn't come to his room in your football boots. Go down and change them."

  "Yes, sir."

  Jennings left Mr Wilkins' room and went to change his football boots.

  Near the changing-room he met Darbishire.

  "Is everything all right?" asked Darbishire. I kept Old Wilkie out in the field but you didn't wave your hand to me. It's a good thing you took the parcel, because Old Wilkie has gone to his room to light the fire."

  "What?"

  "Yes, he wants to make the room warm because the Headmaster is going to visit him."

  "But I haven't got the parcel from the chimney."

&
nbsp; "What?"

  "The Headmaster came into the room, saw me in my football boots and told me to go and change them."

  "But why didn't you take off your football boot's? No, what I mean is..."

  "Never mind, Darbi. I have a new plan. We'll go fishing."

  "No, we can't go fishing. We must get that parcel back."

  "Yes, I know. Listen, Darbi. If we can't get the parcel from below let's get it from above. All we need is a big hook and a long piece of string."

  Mr Wilkins chimney was on a flat roof. The boys could get there from an attic-window, drop the hook down the chimney and get the parcel from it. That was Jennings' new plan.

  The boys changed out of their football kit quickly. Then they found a big hook and a long string, went up to the attic-window, then out of the attic-window onto the roof and hurried to Mr Wilkins' chimney.

  * * *

  Mr Wilkins sat on a chair near his fire. It was warm in the room and he did not want to light the fire yet. He was listening to the Headmaster who was talking about Algebra lessons in the school.

  Suddenly Mr Wilkins looked at the fireplace and saw something. He could not believe it! He closed his eyes, opened them, and looked at the fireplace again, the thing was still there.

  "Are you listening to me, Wilkins?" said Mr Pemberton.

  The Headmaster looked at the fireplace too, and saw a big hook. It was swinging from side to side. For a moment Mr Palmerton and Mr Wilkins looked at the hook, in surprise.

  Then the Headmaster spoke.

  "What is it?" he said.

  "It's a hook," said Mr Wilkins.

  "Yes, yes, I can see that, Wilkins. But what is it doing in your fireplace? Do you boil kettles in you fireplace?"

  "No, no, I don't boil kettles. When I want a cup of tea I usually go to Matron's room. She often makes tea at 5 o'clock, and..."

  "Excuse me, Wilkins, but this is not the moment to talk about tea. Somebody is up on the roof. I think you must go and see who it is."

  "Yes, yes, of course," said Mr Wilkins and hurried out of the room.

  When he left the room Mr Pemberton looked at the fireplace again. But he did not see the hood there.

  "Now, I wonder what is going on up there," he said to himself.

  * * *

  When Jennings and Darbishire came out onto the roof they saw not one, but more than twenty chimneys.

  "Do you know which is Mr Wilkins' one?" asked Jennings.

  "No, I don't," answered Darbishire. "But I think Mr Wilkins has already lit his fire. So his chimney must be one of those with smoke."

  "Don't be silly, Darbi. If he has lit the fire, the smoke won't come out. It will go into his room. Let's listen at the chimneys without smoke and see if we can hear any coughing."

  They listened at every chimney without smoke but could not hear any coughing. At last Jennings chose a chimney and dropped the hook down.

  "It's either this one or the next," he said, "because Mr Wilkins' window looks... Oh, Darbi! There is something on the hook."

  "Can you take it up?"

  "I don't know. I think I can." Jennings pulled the string. "I've got it," he cried. "I've got it!"

  Darbishire began to dance. But he stopped when he saw that it was not the parcel, but a bird's nest.

  "Wrong chimney," said Jennings and went to another chimney.

  He dropped the hook again and began to swing it.

  "Wrong chimney again," said Jennings. "It's empty: I can swing the hook from side to side. Look, Darbi."

  "How can I see what is going on down the chimney" asked Darbishire.

  Of course, Darbishire could not see it, but Mr Wilkins could. It was at that moment that Mr Wilkins saw the hook.

  Jennings pulled the hook out. "I'll look down every chimney now," he thought. "If there is nothing in the chimney I'll see the light from the fireplace." He put his face to the chimney and looked down.

  "What are you doing?" asked Darbishire.

  "I'm looking down the chimney. I want to see the light," , answered Jennings. But Darbishire did not hear the answer because it went straight down the chimney. It was Matron's room. She was making tea when she heard a voice in the chimney. She started and the cup of tea danced in her hands.

  "I can't see anything," Jennings said.

  "I can," said Darbishire. "I can see Mr Wilkins. He is coming from the attic-window."

  Chapter Ten

  All's well that ends well, but...

  "I... I... What the..." Mr Wilkins could not say a word. He was very angry. "What are you two silly boys doing up here on the roof? You know very well that you are not to come here."

  "Yes, sir."

  The boys stood unhappily before him.

  "I'm sorry, sir," Jennings said at last, "but we were not sure which was your chimney, sir."

  "But you - you silly little boy, why do you want to put things down any chimney? You're not Father Christmas, are you?"

  "No, sir, I am not Father Christmas, sir. We wanted to see of your chimney was blocked or not. Because if you decide to light your fire..."

  "But why did you think that my chimney was blocked?"

  "They sometimes are blocked, sir. And we were quite right, because we found this thing in your chimney, sir." Jennings pointed to the bird's nest.

  Mr Wilkins looked at the bird's nest. Of course, it was an unpleasant thing to have in the chimney.

  "Hm... hm..." said Mr Wilkins. Maybe the little boys wanted to do something good. But school rules are school rules, and the boys mustn't break them even if they want to do something good.

  "You must leave the roof at once," said Mr Wilkins. "And when you've washed your face, Jennings, I'll give you and your friend some work so that you'll have no time to put things down anybody's chimneys."

  The boys went back through the attic-window and hurried to the wash-room where Jennings washed his face.

  "I still can't understand it, Darbi," he said. "If that hook went down Old Wilkie's chimney, why didn't it hit the parcel?"

  "It's one of those things that nobody can explain," said Darbishire, "like flying saucers, for example."

  When the boys left the wash-room they met Venables who was going there to wash his hands before tea.

  "Where have you been?" asked Venables. "I couldn't find you anywhere, I've done you a great favour."

  "Thank you very much; that was very nice of you," said Darbishire. "What was it?"

  "Well, Matron didn't let me play football this afternoon because she thought I was ill. So I decided to get that parcel of fish out of Old Wilkie's chimney."

  "What!" exclaimed Jennings. "You mean that it was you who took it?"

  "Of course it was! Didn't I tell you that it was an easy thing to do? I wanted to tell you about your parcel before, but I couldn't find you. Where have you been?"

  "We've been up in the roof," said Darbishire.

  "We tried to get the parcel through the chimney from above. We didn't know it had gone. And Old Wilkie caught us up there."

  "I'm very sorry," said Venables. "I only wanted to help you."

  "Never mind!" said Darbishire. "My father says all's well that ends well."

  * * *

  The tuck-box room was of course for pupils to keep their tuck-boxes in. It was not very easy to use the tuck-box room for an editorial office. But Jennings and Darbishire put tuck-boxed one on top another and the desk was ready.

  On Friday some envelopes arrived, but the big cakes didn't. The two friends sat down at the desk made of tuck-boxes.

  "We'll have to give the prizes tomorrow before tea," said Darbishire.

  "Yes," said Jennings. "I can't think that is the matter with Aunt Angela. I wrote her a letter a week ago."

  "You said she was absent-minded."

  "She is. But I think this time she must remember because it is so important."

  "I think absent-minded people must do something about it."

  There was still half an hour before bedtime. So Jennings to
ok the envelopes from his jacket pocket and passed them to his friend.

  "See which are the poems and which are for the handwriting competition," said Jennings. "And we'll disqualify anybody who hasn't written 'Competition' in the top left-hand corner."

  "Competition, competition, competition" read Darbishire. "Yes, they've all got it on... Oh, wait a minute; here's one that hasn't."

  "Put it in the waste-paper basket," said Jennings. "We can't have boys who forget simple things, or they'll grow up absent-minded like Aunt Angela."

  "But this letter is to your Aunt Angela. And what's more, it's in your handwriting."

  "What?"

  "Look. Miss Angela Birkinshaw."

  Jennings opened the envelope and looked at the letter. He couldn't believe his eyes. It was his handwriting: '... please send two big cakes...'

  "Oh, you silly! You forgot to post it."

  "Don't be funny. How could you post it, if it's here!"

  "No, I mean I can remember I meant to post it. Well, what are we going to do now?"

  "I don't think the village shop has big cakes, but if we get permission to go to town, we can get them there," said Darbishire.

  "And where can we get the money? I've spent all my money on another film for the camera. How much do you have?"

  "One-and-fourpence. We can pay the bus fares but we won't have any money when we get to town."

  "We'll think of something!" said Jennings. "Let's look at the poems and best handwriting. Maybe they are so bad that we shan't have to give any prizes."

  There were six envelopes. Darbishire took the sheets of paper out of the envelopes and dropped the envelopes in the waste-paper basket. To his surprise all six were poems.

  "Nobody has sent in his best handwriting," he said.

  "Well, that's a good thing," said Jennings. "It means that we need only one cake."

  "But where shall we get this one cake?"

  "Let's not think about that now. Let's see whether the poems are good or not."