Mary-Mary
Page 2
Mary-Mary looked at her knees.
“I am already,” she said, and rubbed some of it off on to her hands.
So Mary-Mary, with her skirt all wet and dripping, covered with dust and tea-leaves, and with shoe-polish on her hands and knees, went away to see what Meg was doing.
Meg was in the garden washing her dolls’ blankets in a bowl.
“Why are you doing that?” said Mary-Mary.
“They were very dirty,” said Meg, “and if I wash all the dolls’ clothes as well I’m going to get threepence.”
Mary-Mary picked up the packet of soap powder.
“I’ll do some washing too,” she said. “I’d like to earn threepence.”
“You can’t,” said Meg. “You’re too little. Wait till you’re as big as me and then you can. Put down that packet—you’ll spill it.”
But Mary-Mary held the packet high above her head and wouldn’t put it down.
“You’re spilling it!” shouted Meg. “You’ve got it upside down. It’s running all over your hair.”
Mary-Mary put it down again.
“I wondered what was tickling my head,” she said.
“Go away now,” said Meg.
“No,” said Mary-Mary, and stayed where she was.
“Oh, well, then—stay if you must,” said Meg.
“No, I won’t,” said Mary-Mary. “I’m going away.”
So Mary-Mary, with her skirt all wet and dripping, covered with dust and tea-leaves, with shoe-polish on her hands and knees, and soap powder all over her head, went round to the front gate to see if anyone else might be doing anything interesting.
A cat was sitting washing itself on the wall outside. Mary-Mary opened the gate, stroked the cat, and looked around.
The coal cart was standing a few doors away, outside Mr Bassett’s house. The coalman wasn’t there, but Mr Bassett was walking round and round the cart talking to himself. Every now and then he stooped down and tried to look underneath it, but he was a big, fat man, and it was difficult for him to bend easily in the middle.
Mary-Mary wondered what he was doing, and who he was talking to. The coalman’s horse was eating out of a nosebag and didn’t seem to be taking any notice of him.
Mary-Mary moved a little nearer.
Mr Bassett straightened his back, looked at the horse with a worried face, and said, “Puss, puss.”
“It isn’t a cat. It’s a horse,” said Mary-Mary.
Mr Bassett turned and saw her.
“Ah, Mary-Mary!” he said. “You’re a much better size than I am. Do you mind looking under the coal cart and telling me what you can see there?”
Mary-Mary bent down.
“I can see a lump of coal,” she said.
“Anything else?” said Mr Bassett.
“Yes,” said Mary-Mary, “quite a lot of things.
There’s another lump of coal and a silver pencil and a piece of paper—”
“Isn’t there a cat there?” asked Mr Bassett.
“No,” said Mary-Mary.
“Are you sure?” said Mr Bassett.
“Yes, quite sure,” said Mary-Mary, “but there’s a cat sitting on the wall over there if you really want one.”
Mr Bassett looked up and saw the cat washing itself on the wall.
“Well I never!” he said. “It must have run out when I wasn’t looking. I saw it go under the cart as I came out of the gate, and I was afraid it might get run over when the coalman came back. I bent down to call it out, but it wouldn’t come. Then I felt something fall out of my pocket, but I was more worried about the cat.”
Mary-Mary liked Mr Bassett. It was kind of him to be so worried about the cat.
“Shall I fetch out what you dropped?” she asked. “I can get under the cart more easily than you can.”
“Won’t you get dirty?”
Mary-Mary looked down at herself
“I don’t think I could get much dirtier than I am,” she said.
“No, perhaps not,” said Mr Bassett. “It’s very kind of you.”
So Mary-Mary crawled underneath the back of the coal cart, and Mr Bassett stood by waiting.
“Oh!” called Mary-Mary, “there’s half a crown down here as well!”
“Good,” said Mr Bassett. “Bring out everything you see. I can’t be quite sure what fell out of my pocket.”
So Mary-Mary picked up the half-crown and the two lumps of coal and the piece of paper and the silver pencil, and crawled out again.
“Good girl,” said Mr Bassett. “Now let’s sort them out. These two lumps of coal belong to the coalman, so we’ll throw them back on the cart, and the silver pencil belongs to me, so I’ll put it in my pocket. The paper doesn’t belong to anybody, so we’ll throw it away, and the half-crown—well—I think the half-crown belongs to you, because you’ve earned it.”
“How did I earn it?” said Mary-Mary.
“By being just the right size to fetch it out,” said Mr Bassett. “What would you like to spend it on?”
Mary-Mary said, “I’ve been thinking all the morning that if I had threepence I’d spend it on an ice lolly.”
Mr Bassett began counting on his fingers.
“We could buy ten ice lollies with this half-crown,” he said, “but I think that’s too many, don’t you? Let’s go and spend it, anyway. Shall we go to that nice little teashop on the corner?”
“Oh, yes,” said Mary-Mary. “I’d like to go there very much. That’s where I go to watch the ladies sitting in the window drinking their coffee. It’s next to the ice-lolly shop. I’ve always wanted to look like one of those ladies.”
“Very well,” said Mr Bassett, “so you shall.”
Mary-Mary looked down at herself.
“I’m rather dirty to look like a lady,” she said.
“And I’m rather fat, and don’t look like a lady, either,” said Mr Bassett. “But if we feel right and behave right I don’t suppose anyone will notice what we look like. You don’t shout and throw things about, do you?”
“Not usually,” said Mary-Mary.
“Or lick your plate?”
“Not when I’m out,” said Mary-Mary.
“Nor do I,” said Mr Bassett, “so we ought to be all right.”
So Mary-Mary, with her skirt still rather damp, decorated with dust and tea-leaves, with shoe-polish on her hands and knees, soap powder all over her hair, and a smudge of coal-dust on the end of her nose, went walking politely down the road with Mr Bassett to the nice little teashop.
“We will order one very large ice-cream sundae, and one cup of tea,” said Mr Bassett.
“Which will be for which?” asked Mary-Mary politely.
“I shall order the ice-cream sundae for myself,” said Mr Bassett, “because I like ice-cream sundaes very much. But I am not allowed to eat them, because they make me too fat, so you shall eat it for me and I shall watch you.”
“I don’t like tea very much,” said Mary-Mary.
“Then I shall drink it for you,” said Mr Bassett, “and we shall suit each other very nicely.”
When Miriam and Martyn and Mervyn and Meg had finished the dustbins, polishing the shoes, and washing the clothes they were all very hot and tired.
“What shall we spend our threepences on?” said Miriam.
“Something cool,” said Martyn.
“Ice lollies,” said Mervyn.
“Good idea,” said Meg.
“But you’d better tidy yourselves up before you go out,” said Mother.
So Miriam and Martyn and Mervyn and Meg washed their hands and brushed their hair, and then they all set off together to buy their ice lollies.
Miriam chose a raspberry flavour, Martyn chose a strawberry, Mervyn chose an orange one, and Meg chose a lime.
Then they all stood in a row, sucking them, and looked into the window of the nice little teashop. And suddenly they all opened their eyes very wide and said, “Look!” all together, for there at the table in the window sat Mary-Mary,
vlooking quite at home, just as if she were a lady drinking her morning coffee; only Mary-Mary wasn’t drinking coffee—she was eating a very large ice-cream sundae out of a very tall glass, with a very long spoon.
“It’s Mary-Mary!” they all said together.
“With shoe-polish on her hands!”
“And soap powder in her hair!”
“And coal-dust on her nose!”
“And a whacking great ice-cream sundae! Now, however did she get that?”
Mary-Mary waved to them all with the long spoon and felt very pleased to be sitting on the right side of the window for a change. But Miriam and Martyn and Mervyn and Meg didn’t seem to want to wave back to her, so she started talking to Mr Bassett again.
“It’s much nicer being on the inside looking out,” she said.
“Nicer than what?” said Mr Bassett.
“Being on the outside looking in,” said Mary-Mary.
“Oh, yes,” said Mr Bassett, “much nicer.”
He was sitting with his back to the window, so he hadn’t seen the others looking in.
“You know, I’m beginning to feel rather sorry for all my brothers and sisters,” Mary-Mary went on.
“Why is that?” said Mr Bassett.
“Well,” said Mary-Mary, “they earned threepence each today (that’s enough to buy an ice lolly), and they kept telling me I could earn threepence too when I was as big as they are. But if they’d been only as big as me they might have earned half a crown and been sitting in here with us, mightn’t they?”
“Yes, I suppose they might,” said Mr Bassett, “but, of course, there’s no need to tell them, unless you want to.”
“Oh, no, I won’t tell them,” said Mary-Mary, smiling to herself.
So Mary-Mary did earn some money after all, and that is the end of the story.
3
Mary-Mary’s Handbag
ONE day Mary-Mary found a lady’s handbag in the dustbin. It was large and flat and shabby, but it opened and shut nicely with a loud snap, and there was a pocket inside which was just the right size for Moppet.
“I’ll keep this,” said Mary-Mary. “It will come in very handy, and I’m sure the dustman won’t need it.”
So she took it away and played with it, and opened it and shut it, and put things in it and took them out again, and was very pleased with her find.
“Whatever have you got there?” said Miriam.
“More old rubbish, I expect,” said Martyn.
“Why, it’s Mother’s old handbag!” said Mervyn.
“The one before last,” said Meg.
Then they all said together, “Throw it away, Mary-Mary. It’s only old rubbish.”
But Mary-Mary said, “Different things suit different people. A grown-up lady’s handbag suits me very well,” and she would not throw it away.
A little later Miriam was out with her friend, Barbara, when she saw Mary-Mary walking down the road with the handbag on her arm.
Oh, dear! thought Miriam. How awful she looks!
“Mary-Mary,” she said, “if you’ll only throw that dreadful old handbag away I’ll give you something else.”
“What will you give me?” said Mary-Mary.
Miriam said, “I’ll give you the little basket that my Easter egg was in. It’s much prettier than that old thing.”
“All right. When will you give it me?” said Mary-Mary.
“When I come home,” said Miriam. “I’m just going out with Barbara now, but I’ll give it you when I get back. Now go home like a good girl and put that dreadful bag in the dustbin.”
So Mary-Mary went on up the road towards home.
Martyn and Mervyn were just coming out of the gate.
“Where are you going?” said Mary-Mary.
“To the sweetshop, to spend our pocket money,” they said.
“I’ll come with you,” said Mary-Mary.
“No, not with that awful old handbag,” said Martyn.
“Everyone will laugh at you,” said Mervyn.
“I don’t mind,” said Mary-Mary, walking after them.
“No, but we do,” said Martyn and Mervyn, and they walked even quicker, so that Mary-Mary had to run to keep up.
“Can’t you see we want to be by ourselves?” said Martyn.
“All right, I won’t interrupt you,” said Mary-Mary.
“Let’s pretend we don’t know her,” said Mervyn, and they ran on ahead.
When Mary-Mary got to the sweetshop Martyn and Mervyn were standing by the counter waiting to be served. Mary-Mary went in and stood beside them. They pretended not to notice her.
A lady in front of them was taking a long time buying a box of chocolates. After a while Mary-Mary got tired of waiting and began opening and shutting her handbag with such loud snaps that every one looked round to see what the noise was. Martyn and Mervyn pretended not to hear.
At last the lady chose her box of chocolates, and the shopman said, “That will be ten and sixpence, please.”
The lady opened her handbag and looked inside.
“I’m afraid I haven’t any change,” she said, and gave the shopman a pound note.
When she had gone the shop man turned to Martyn.
“Are you all together?” he asked.
“No,” said Mary-Mary, “these boys are by themselves.”
“Then I’ll serve you first as you’re the smallest,” said the shopman. “What would you like?”
“I’d like two halfpenny chews,” said Mary-Mary.
She opened the dreadful handbag and looked inside. “But I’m afraid I haven’t any change,” she said.
“Now, look here, Mary-Mary,” said Martyn, “if we buy you two halfpenny chews will you go home and put that awful old thing in the dustbin?”
“What awful old thing?” said Mary-Mary in a loud, surprised voice. “Do you mean my handbag?”
“Yes,” said Martyn, “but don’t talk so loud.”
“All right,” said Mary-Mary, “of course I will, if you’ll buy me two halfpenny chews.”
“You go on home, then,” said Martyn.
So Mary-Mary went on up the road towards home again. Meg was just coming out of the door as she got there.
“Where are you going?” said Mary-Mary.
“To see my music teacher about the concert on Friday,” said Meg.
“Perhaps I’ll come with you,” said Mary-Mary.
“Not with that dreadful old bag,” said Meg. “Why don’t you throw it away? If you’ll put it in the dustbin I’ll give you my little red purse.”
“Oh, thank you,” said Mary-Mary. And she went indoors, wrapped her dreadful old handbag carefully in newspaper, and put it in the dustbin.
Martyn and Mervyn came home first.
“Where is that old handbag?” they said.
“In the dustbin,” said Mary-Mary.
“Good,” they said, and gave her two halfpenny chews. Miriam came home next.
“Did you do as I said?” she asked.
“Yes,” said Mary-Mary.
“Good girl,” said Miriam, and gave her the little basket. Meg came home last.
“Well, is it in the dustbin?” she asked.
“Yes,” said Mary-Mary, “it’s been there a long time.”
“Good,” said Meg, and gave her the little red purse.
Early next morning Mary-Mary saw the dustman coming up the road with his lorry.
Oh, dear! she thought, it would be a pity if he should throw my handbag in among all the ashes and rubbish. It would spoil it.
Mary-Mary ran out to the dustbin, dug the handbag out from under some potato peelings, and buried it in the sand-pit. Then, when the dustman had gone, she wrapped it up again in fresh newspaper and put it carefully back in the dustbin.
On the day of the music teacher’s concert Miriam, Martyn, Mervyn, and Meg were all waiting to go, when Mother said, “Where is Mary-Mary? I got her ready first on purpose so that we shouldn’t be late. Where can she be?”
So Miriam, Martyn, Mervyn, and Meg all went off with Mother, and Father followed later with Mary-Mary.
The concert was just going to begin when suddenly there was a loud snap from the back of the hall. Everyone looked round, and there was Mary-Mary, smiling brightly, with the dreadful-looking handbag on her arm.
“Well!” said Miriam, Martyn, Mervyn, and Meg, all together.
As soon as the concert was over they all ran up to her.
“Didn’t I give you a little basket?” said Miriam.
“Didn’t we give you two halfpenny chews?” said Martyn and Mervyn.
“Didn’t I give you my little red purse?” said Meg.
“Yes. Thank you,” said Mary-Mary, “and I’ve got them all in here. This is such a handy handbag, it’s big enough to hold everything. I’ve even got Moppet in the pocket. He did enjoy the concert.”
“But you said you’d put it in the dustbin!” they said, all together.
“Yes, and I did,” said Mary-Mary, “but it was a silly place to keep a handbag. I had to keep washing my hands every time I dug it out, so I don’t keep it there any more.”
So Mary-Mary kept her dreadful handbag after all, and that is the end of the story.
4
Mary-Mary Goes Away
ONE day Mary-Mary’s mother had to go out for the whole afternoon, so Mary-Mary stayed at home with all her big brothers and sisters.
“What are we going to do?” said Mary-Mary. “Shall we do something nice?”
But Miriam said, “I know what I’m going to do. I’ve got to write a letter.”
And Martyn said, “I know what I’m going to do, too. I’m going to paint a picture.”
Mervyn said, “I’m going to make a cut-out model.” And Meg said, “I’ve got to do my sums. I didn’t finish them yesterday, so I’ve got to do them today. It isn’t fair, but I suppose I’d better do them, all the same.”
Miriam went into the bedroom to write her letter (because she couldn’t think with everyone talking to her), and Martyn went into the kitchen (because it was handier for changing the paint water), and Mervyn went into the dining-room (because he needed the table to lay his model out on), and Meg went into the sitting-room (because she said she might as well sit in a comfortable chair, even if she did have to do sums on a Saturday).