The Tree that Sat Down

by Beverley Nichols

  Miss Squirrel blushed so deeply that her fur, which was a delicate grey, seemed to grow quite red, as though she was sitting in front of a fire.

  ‘It’s … it’s a sort of a change,’ she giggled.

  ‘Well! Well!’ Miss Smith eyed the bottle with a hungry look. Here, she felt, was her chance to do something really wicked. ‘It’s certainly a beautiful bottle, and a beautiful colour, too.’ She gave one of her sweetest smiles to Judy. ‘May I be allowed to see it?’

  ‘With pleasure.’ Judy handed it to her.

  Miss Smith held the bottle up to the light; it sparkled in the sun like a sapphire. ‘I declare that it might have dropped straight from heaven!’ she exclaimed. ‘May I have just a teeny sniff?’

  She undid the stopper. ‘Oh, but it’s wonderful! Like violets and sunshine.’

  Of course she really hated the scent of it, her own favourite perfume being made out of burnt feathers, garlic, and dead shrimps.

  She sniffed and sniffed, and suddenly she had a brilliant idea. ‘I must let my darlings have a teeny sniff too!’ And before Judy could prevent her, she had knelt down and was holding the bottle to the noses of the toads. As she did so she whispered, ‘Spit in it!’ The toads instantly obeyed her, and they spat so quickly and with such skill that neither Judy nor Miss Squirrel had any idea that they had spat at all.

  Miss Smith rose to her feet, put back the stopper and handed it to Miss Squirrel. ‘I do congratulate you,’ she said. ‘You will hardly know yourself after you have used this beautiful lotion!’

  Which was a far truer remark than poor Miss Squirrel guessed. If she were to put on even a few drops all the hair would fall off at once and her tail would be as bald as a rat’s.

  Miss Squirrel made a low curtsy, and scampered away with her bottle.

  ‘Now, you must let me see all over your wonderful shop!’ cried Miss Smith, who had not nearly finished her wicked work. So Judy, who hoped that she might prove a good customer, proceeded to show her; and wherever she went the toads went too, hopping on to shelves, peering into tins and boxes, jumping in and out of nests and even slithering under the counter. When they were sure that nobody was looking, they spat, spreading their poison over almost every article in the shop. Judy, of course, did not know what they were doing; even so, she wished Miss Smith would keep them under better control. She did not like to think that there were any animals that she could not learn to love, if she only understood them, but she had to admit to herself that it would take her a very long time to learn to love the toads. In fact, they were so slimy that they gave her the creeps.

  By and by the toads had spat so much that they had no more poison left. So they hopped down from the shelves, went up to Miss Smith and tugged her skirt.

  ‘Want to go home!’ they croaked.

  Miss Smith guessed that they had run out of poison. For a moment she thought she would give them some more, but she was afraid that Judy might see her. Besides, they had done such good work that there was no need for them to do any more.

  ‘Tired, my sweets?’ she asked.

  ‘Exhausted,’ croaked the toads.

  ‘Poor little cherubs! Poor precious ones! We won’t stay a moment longer!’

  ‘Have you a long way to go?’ ventured Judy, who was longing to find out who she was.

  ‘Some might call it long, and some might call it short,’ she replied. Which was not very helpful. She glanced at her watch.

  ‘Heavens!’ she cried. ‘I had no idea it was so late. I must be flying.’

  And before Judy could ask any more questions she was gone.

  Chapter Twelve

  A TORTOISE TO THE RESCUE

  NEXT DAY THE dreadful news about Miss Squirrel’s tail was all over the wood.

  Miss Squirrel’s mother had been the first to tell the story. She had arrived at The Shop in the Ford in a terrible commotion – (‘Never,’ she exclaimed, ‘shall I set foot in The Shop Under the Willow Tree again!’) – announcing that her poor daughter’s tail was as bald as a rat’s, and that she was in a state of complete nervous collapse, all because of some poisonous mixture that Miss Judy had insisted on selling her.

  ‘It is wicked!’ she cried. ‘Downright wicked, selling people things like that! There should be a law against it!’

  The other animals could hardly believe their ears. They had known Judy and her grannie for so long, they had bought so many things at their shop; never before had there been any complaints, though, of course, they were a little old-fashioned. However, surely they were as honest as the day? Was not Mrs Squirrel making some mistake?

  ‘Mistake?’ squeaked Mrs Squirrel. ‘Mistake? You should see my daughter’s tail, that’s a mistake all right. Eleven inches of mistake!’

  ‘Perhaps Mr Sam might be able to sell you something to put it right?’

  ‘That’s what I’m hoping!’

  She began to examine all sorts of worthless ointments that Sam was eager to sell her. As she did so, Sam pretended to be very upset about the news, and kept on saying how careful one had to be these days, and how important it was to be quite certain about the quality of everything one sold.

  ‘I don’t think any of our customers will ever have to complain about such mistakes in this establishment,’ he said, loud enough for all the animals to hear him.

  Meanwhile, the poison that the toads had spat into all the other things in the shop was beginning to do its work, and strange rumours ran through the wood. There really must be something wrong at The Shop Under the Willow Tree. Consider the case of Mrs Badger. Her first bottle of scent had made her smell so beautiful that she had gone round to buy another. But as soon as she had put it on she smelt far, far worse than she had ever smelt before – so overpowering that when she passed by the lake, Mr Peacock, who was as usual admiring his reflection, fell fainting into the water and was nearly drowned. In fact, if PC Monkey had not possessed a gas-mask, Mr Peacock probably would have been drowned, for all the other animals were too breathless to go near him.

  Then there was Mrs Hare … up all night with a violent stomach-ache after eating a few beech nuts which Judy had sold her.

  And Miss Fox, who had taken only one sip of Mrs Judy’s tonic and had promptly felt quite – well, really quite intoxicated – and had reeled home in the most suspicious condition, looking very wild and strange, hiccuping and laughing immoderately.

  Yes, there really was something very wrong indeed. The animals could not understand it at all, and shook their heads and whispered among themselves. They were so fond of Judy that instead of feeling angry with her they were only sorry. All the same, they kept away from the shop. It really was not safe to go there any longer.

  *

  Even so, Sam was not yet satisfied.

  ‘You’re earning your keep,’ he admitted grudgingly, when Miss Smith reminded him of all the wicked things she had done, ‘but you don’t work fast enough.’

  ‘I like that!’ she retorted indignantly. ‘You wouldn’t get any girl to work faster, not for double the money.’

  ‘Why didn’t them toads use deadly poison, so that it killed people instead of just making ’em sick?’

  ‘That’s the silliest question I’ve ever been asked,’ she snapped. ‘Isn’t the whole idea to make the animals come to your shop instead of hers? How can they come if they’re all dead?’

  Sam saw her point. ‘Well, why can’t we kill her, then? And her precious old grannie?’

  ‘We can,’ replied Miss Smith calmly. ‘With the greatest of ease, provided that you are prepared to pay me at least three times what you’re paying now. And to give the toads a bonus into the bargain. Killing good people is extremely expensive.’

  ‘Not another cent,’ growled Sam.

  ‘Then all we can do is wait.’ And she sat down on the grass, looking as pretty as a picture, and began to stroke the toads.

  Suddenly she had an idea. ‘There is something we could do,’ she suggested.

  ‘What’s that?’<
br />
  ‘We could make the animals think she was a witch. Then they’d never go near her again, and that old Mr Justice Owl would have to send her to prison.’

  ‘They’d never believe us.’

  ‘They’d believe their eyes, wouldn’t they?’

  ‘How do you mean, their eyes?’

  ‘I can’t explain till I’ve done it, otherwise it would break the spell. But if I do it –’ and here she looked him very sharply in the eye – ‘do I get a bonus?’

  Sam scowled. He hated parting with money but he could see no way out of it. ‘OK,’ he muttered.

  ‘Very well, that’s settled!’ Miss Smith rose to her feet and beckoned to the toads. ‘Come along, my little wonderfuls! We must get to work!’

  *

  It was nearly a week later before Miss Smith again called at The Shop Under the Willow Tree. This time she did not take the toads with her, partly in case they aroused Judy’s suspicions, but principally because they had been so naughty that she really felt they ought to be punished.

  By ‘naughty’, of course, Miss Smith meant ‘good’; for what was good to other people was naughty to her. During the last few days the toads had shown the most surprising tendencies to be good; they had not croaked any of their wicked songs; they had not even threatened to spit in anybody’s eye. Miss Smith did not like it at all … she supposed it must be the weather, which was quite perfect – sunny, calm, and sweet-scented. A nice storm and a few sharp winds, and the toads would be her darling wicked ones again.

  When Miss Smith arrived, Judy was not quite sure whether she was pleased to see her; her last visit seemed to have brought such bad luck, what with the terrible business of Miss Squirrel’s tail and all the other things that had gone wrong. However, she did not really blame Miss Smith for it, and she was relieved to see that this time she had not brought the toads. Instead, she was carrying a large brown paper parcel.

  ‘Good afternoon!’ crooned Miss Smith, laying the paper parcel on the counter. ‘It is so nice to see you again. And I have brought you a present.’

  ‘Me? A present?’ exclaimed Judy. ‘How very kind of you! May I see what it is?’

  She stretched out her fingers to undo the string, but Miss Smith quickly stopped her.

  ‘Not yet!’ she cried. ‘You must not touch it till I have gone, or you will put it out of order. But I can show you how it works.’

  She undid the parcel, and there on the counter was a beautiful new vacuum-cleaner.

  ‘What a wonderful thing!’ cried Judy. ‘Whatever is it?’

  ‘Wait and see!’ laughed Miss Smith.

  She disentangled the coil of the vacuum-cleaner, went over to the tree and plugged it into the bark and immediately it began to work, hissing away as though it were alive, and sweeping up all last year’s leaves and twigs and dead moss.

  ‘You see?’ cried Miss Smith. ‘I noticed that it was very untidy round here. And I thought you looked too tired to do much sweeping. So I brought along this wonderful invention to do all the sweeping for you, and now you will have the tidiest place in the wood.’

  ‘That is thoughtful of you,’ declared Judy. ‘I do not know how I can ever thank you.’

  ‘There is no need,’ replied Miss Smith. ‘I am only too happy to oblige.’ She turned off the vacuum-cleaner, and leant it against the tree. ‘Only too happy!’ she repeated. Then suddenly she stopped and put her hand over her mouth. She had felt somebody coming, somebody very good, somebody so good that he might do her a lot of harm. She must go quickly, before it was too late.

  ‘I must go,’ she muttered.

  ‘Already?’ asked Judy in surprise.

  ‘At once,’ replied Miss Smith, who could feel the good person, whoever it might be, drawing nearer and nearer.

  ‘I hope you will come again very soon,’ said Judy. ‘And thank you once more!’

  Miss Smith muttered an inaudible reply, blew her a hasty kiss, and hurried away.

  *

  When she had gone, Judy sat down and waited. She wanted to be quite certain that Miss Smith was well out of the way before touching the vacuum-cleaner; it was such a lovely present that it would be a shame to spoil it.

  She was so far away in her dreams that she did not hear a little voice at her side.

  ‘Ahem!’ said the voice.

  ‘Ahem,’ said the voice, louder this time.

  Judy woke up, and looked down by her side.

  ‘Well I never,’ she exclaimed. ‘It’s you again!’

  It was the old tortoise.

  ‘And how are you today?’ she asked, with a smile.

  ‘Never mind how I am,’ snapped the tortoise. ‘What about you?’

  He spoke so sharply, and his head was darting about so angrily underneath his shell, that Judy felt sure his roof must be giving him trouble again. She bent down to look at it more closely.

  ‘There’s nothing wrong with my roof,’ said the tortoise, more sharply than ever. ‘So don’t go scratching about with it. There’s no time to waste.’

  ‘Why, what’s the hurry?’

  The tortoise flicked one of his paws towards the vacuum-cleaner. ‘I want to know where you got that thing,’ he said.

  Judy glanced at it with a smile. ‘Isn’t it lovely? It was given me by a young lady who’s only just left.’

  ‘By the name of Smith?’ demanded the tortoise.

  ‘Yes. Do you know her?’

  ‘I know of her,’ he replied.

  ‘You sound as if you didn’t like her very much.’

  The tortoise nodded. ‘I don’t.’

  ‘Why not?’ asked Judy in surprise.

  For a moment the tortoise did not reply. Then he said very quietly, ‘I suppose that it never occurred to you that Miss Smith might be a witch?’

  Judy could hardly believe her ears. ‘Miss Smith might be a what?’

  ‘Not a what, a witch,’ repeated the tortoise. ‘W … I … T … C … H.’

  Judy went quite red in the face. ‘How dare you say such things? Miss Smith is a most charming girl. You’ve only got to look at her to see that.’

  ‘Oh yes, she looks all right,’ agreed the tortoise. ‘Particularly when she’s dressed up as she was this afternoon. False teeth, wig, false nose and all that.’

  ‘I don’t believe for a minute that she wears such things.’

  ‘Don’t you? Then who dropped those?’ and he pointed to the ground just by Judy’s feet.

  Judy looked down. Sure enough, there on the grass lay a full set of gleaming false teeth. She bent down and picked them up.

  ‘Oh, what horrid things!’ she cried.

  ‘Quite. Property of your friend Miss Smith.’

  ‘How do you know?’

  ‘Don’t you remember how she was laughing just before she said goodbye? And how she suddenly clapped her hand over her mouth and mumbled that she had to be going?’

  ‘Yes, I do remember. But what made them fall out?’

  ‘She felt me coming. And she was frightened.’

  ‘Frightened of you?’ Judy could not help laughing at the thought of anybody being frightened of a poor old tortoise. ‘Why should she be frightened of you?’

  ‘Because she knows that I know she’s a witch.’

  ‘I still can’t believe it.’

  ‘You’ve got to believe it.’ There was a note of fear in the tortoise’s voice. ‘Look over there!’

  He pointed to the vacuum-cleaner standing against the tree-trunk, spotless and glistening in the sun.

  ‘You see that thing?’

  ‘The vacuum-cleaner? Yes, of course I see it. She gave it to me to take up all the rubbish. It’s a wonderful invention. Look … I’ll show you.’

  She walked over to the machine.

  ‘Don’t touch it!’

  Judy paused and drew back her hand.

  ‘Why shouldn’t I touch it?’

  ‘Because it isn’t a vacuum-cleaner at all. It’s a broomstick … a witch’s broomstick!’
<
br />   Judy shook her head. ‘It’s all very puzzling,’ she said. She glanced over towards the vacuum-cleaner. ‘And very disappointing too. I had been looking forward so much to sweeping up the leaves with the vacuum-cleaner.’

  For a moment there was silence, while Judy stared at the vacuum-cleaner, and sighed. Then she turned to the tortoise. ‘One thing I don’t understand. Why did she leave the vacuum-cleaner here? Why did she want me to have it at all?’

  ‘Ah!’ The tortoise gave a very wise wink. ‘That’s the whole point of it; that’s where she was so wicked. She wanted to make all the animals in the wood think you were a witch.’

  ‘But why?’

  ‘Because if they thought you were a witch they wouldn’t come to the shop any more.’

  ‘Why doesn’t she want them to come to the shop?’

  ‘Because she’s working for Sam and that awful grandfather of his. She’s employed by The Shop in the Ford.’

  Judy stamped her foot with anger. ‘They are the wickedest people I ever met!’ she cried.

  ‘They are indeed. They know they can’t beat you by fair means, so they use foul tricks like this.’

  Then she became grave again. ‘I’m afraid you’ll think me very stupid, but there’s still something I don’t understand. Why should the animals suspect me of being a witch merely because I had a vacuum-cleaner?’

  ‘They wouldn’t. But the minute you turned it on, it would become a broomstick and take you flying over the wood for everybody to see.’

  ‘Are you certain?’

  ‘Quite certain. We’ll prove it now. Only you must be careful to do exactly what I tell you. Now! Take that branch over there … no, not that one … that’s only birch and we want something tough … that’s the one! That’s good old oak.’

  ‘It’s very heavy,’ panted Judy.

  ‘I wish I could help you, but I’m afraid I can’t. Is it too heavy?’

  ‘I think I can manage it.’

  ‘Take it over to the vacuum-cleaner. But be sure you don’t touch it.’

  Judy dragged the big branch over to the machine. It made a harsh scraping noise as it caught the leaves and twigs of the undergrowth.

  ‘That’s far enough,’ cried the tortoise. ‘No nearer!’