Jennings and His Friends

by Antony Buckeridge

  "I think he will be happier when he sees, his life-story in the Form Three Times," Darbishire said to Jennings when they waited for Mr Wilkins to arrive for an algebra lesson a week later. "Are you writing those famous life-stories?"

  "I've already written Juluis Caesar's lifestory," answered Jennings, "but there wasn't much to say about Charles Dickens, so I am going to write Mr Carter's life-story to fill up the space. Mr Wilkins' life-story is the most difficult one: I can't find out how old he is or what his first name is."

  At that moment they heard Mr Wilkins' footsteps in the corridor. The door opened, and Mr Wilkins came into the classroom.

  "Good morning, sir," said Form Three.

  "Good morning," said Mr Wilkins. "I am going to show you a new sort of problem during this lesson. So sit up straight and try to understand."

  Form Three sat up straight, but to try to understand Mr Wilkins was another thing, because it was not easy to understand when Mr Wilkins explained about new problems. There was one problem about the man who walked at the strange speed of x miles an hour for the strange time of y hours.

  "I've never seen a clock with y's on its face," Jennings whispered to Darbishire. "Maybe Mr Wilkins will be interested to know about it."

  And Jennings told him so. Other boys asked Mr Wilkins questions which he thought were very silly too.

  When he finished his explanation he said, "Now we'll see how much you've understood. Try to work out the next problem for yourselves."

  He wrote the next problem on the blackboard and sat down at the .teacher's desk. The problem was about a walk from one milestone to the next and there were some x's and y's in it too.

  "Do we have to work it out in our exercise books, sir?" asked Atkinson.

  "Of course. You don't think I want you to write it on the desks, do you?" came the angry reply.

  Temple put up his hand.

  "Please, sir, we can't find the answer to this problem, sir. You haven't told us how far it is from one milestone to the next. And before we know that we can't work it out, can we, sir?"

  "I'm sure, Temple, you must know how far it is from one milestone to the next mile-stone. It can't be more than one mile, can it?" said Mr Wilkins and left his desk. "Well, Bromwich, have you worked out how much time it will take?"

  "Yes, sir, three days, sir."

  "Three days to go a mile! Don't be funny, you silly little boy. A snail can do it in that time!"

  "I thought it was a snail, sir. The problem doesn't say it has to be a man. So I thought, it could be a snail."

  "Well, well, Bromwich... Darbishire! I think you have worked it out, haven't you?"

  "Yes, I have, sir. I used a man, sir, and I worked it out quickly. He must finish his trip at half past z, sir."

  Mr Wilkins clasped his hands over his eyes and sat down at the desk.

  "Please put your hands up all boys who have written down 'twenty minutes' for the answer," he said loudly.

  Nobody put up his hand.

  "Not one right answer to an easy problem!" exclaimed Mr Wilkins. "Very well. You all must come here at a quarter past four on Saturday and we'll have some more examples."

  The boys were certainly not happy when they heard the news. Bromwich turned to Jennings and Darbishire.

  "The first team will play a 'home' match on Saturday," he said. "When the game is over at half past three then it's the time we can go to the village. I think Old Wilkie has purposely chosen this time for his detention class, because we won't have enough time to go to the village and to come back."

  "You mean we shall have enough time to go to the village and come back, because it takes us ten minutes to walk each way. But we won't have any time to spend in o the village, will we?" said Jennings.

  Jennings didn't want to go to the village this Saturday because he had no money. He decided to finish his life-stories for the next issue of the wall newspaper which he wanted to hang on the notice-board the following Tuesday.

  The algebra lesson ended when the bell rang for break, and Mr Wilkins went to the staff room for a cup of tea.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Jennings' famous people

  "I've had enough of that Form Three," Mr Wilkins said to Mr Carter when he went into the staff room after his algebra lesson. "I gave them an easy problem this morning, and nobody could give me the right answer. Well, I'm going to make them come to the classroom on Saturday afternoon, believe me!"

  "Don't worry, Wilkins," said Mr Carter. "Here is a letter for you."

  Mr Wilkins took the envelope, looked at it, and saw L. P. Wilkins in his sister's handwriting. Mr Wilkins began to worry because his younger sister Margaret was usually too busy at her London hospital where she worked as a nurse. She did not often write letters to him. He loved his sister, which was not surprising, because she was a very nice young lady. He opened the envelope and read:

  Dear Lancelot,

  I shall spend next week-end with my friends not far from Dunhambury. So I think I can visit you for an hour at tea-time on Saturday. I shall take a bus from Dunham-bury to Linbury,- but don't meet me; I think I can find my own way.

  With love,

  Margaret.

  Mr Wilkins put the letter back in the envelope as one of the other teachers came into the staff room. Nobody except the Headmaster and Mr Carter knew that his first name was Lancelot. Nothing was wrong with Lancelot: it was a nice name for the right man, but Mr Wilkins thought that he was not the right man. He would have made no secret of it if his name had been Bill or Jack or Tom. But Lancelot... oh, no!

  Mr Wilkins came up to the notice-board and saw that Mr Carter was on duty on Saturday afternoon and evening. "That's fine," he thought. "The detention class will be over at a quarter past five, and I'll be free."

  He finished his tea, and when he heard a knock at the door some minutes before the end of break there was only Mr Carter and himself in the staff room.

  "Come in!" called Mr Wilkins.

  The visitor was Jennings.

  "It's about our wall newspaper, sir," he said to Mr Carter and explained. "I'm writing the lives of famous people like Charles Dickens, sir. But we think the boys may not be very interested in reading about them. So we are going to write about some infamous people too - like you and Mr Wilkins, sir... or... I mean people who are not so famous as Charles Dickens, but are more interesting to read

  about."

  "Go on," said Mr Carter with a smile. "Well, sir, teachers never tell people what they were like when they were at school, and I think, sir, these are the things which will be most interesting to read in a wall newspaper."

  "No, I don't remember anything from my school years which you could put in your wall newspaper, thank you very much," said Mr Wilkins.

  "I see, sir," said Jennings. "Well, sir, maybe we will write something about you if we know what your initials stand for, sir."

  "My name, little boy, is L. P. Wilkins," said Mr Wilkins angrily. "And what L. P. stands for is not your business."

  "No, sir, of course not. I'm sorry, sir," said Jennings.

  Then he decided to ask Mr Carter some question. Mr Carter did not make a secret of his first name. Jennings knew that Mr Carter's first name was Michael. He decided to ask Mr Carter how old he was. He knew that it was a difficult thing because grown-ups often gave very strange answers, like a hundred and six last birthday.

  "Do you remember the first car, sir?" Jennings asked Mr Carter.

  Mr Carter thought for a moment, then smiled and said, "I see, Jennings. You want to know how old I am. Mr Wilkins told me that Form Three couldn't work out easy problems. So try to work this out. Five years ago I was twice as old as you will be in four years, and in ten years I shall be five times older than you were two years ago."

  "Oh, sir, this is worse than the problem about the man who walked at x miles an hour, sir," said Jennings.

  "Don't you have anything better to do than ask us a lot of silly questions?" said Mr Wilkins.

  "I'm sor
ry, sir," said Jennings and left the staff room.

  "It's very difficult to make Mr Wilkins happy," thought Jennings when he heard the bell for the next lesson. When he came into the classroom Darbishire asked him, "Do you know anything about them now?"

  "Nothing," answered Jennings. "I can only I say that Mr Carter is a man whose age is a problem for clever schoolboys "

  "And what about Old Wilkie?"

  "He's worse. He doesn't want to talk about his school years."

  They sat down at their desks and opened their exercise-books for the Headmaster's Latin lesson. When they were waiting for Mr Pemberton Jennings wrote the list of the famous and not so famous:

  J. Caesar

  Ch. Dickens

  Mr M. Carter

  Mr L. P. Wilkins

  The late A. Grimshaw.

  Chapter Twenty

  Venables treats Jennings and Darbishire

  It was after dinner on Friday. Jennings and Darbishire were sitting in the common room when Venables ran in.

  "You're the people I'm looking for," he began. "I've decided to do you a favour because you were very decent to me last week."

  The very decent boys were surprised. "Were we, really?" asked Jennings.

  "Oh, yes!" answered Venables. "I haven't forgotten how you gave me my Latin book as a prize last week."

  "'Oh, forget it," said Darbishire.

  "All right, all right! I've received a ten-shilling note from my uncle, and in his letter he asks me not to spend it on selfish pleasure. So I ask myself what can be better than to invite two friends to Home-made Cakes and Bicycles Repaired to have some a doughnuts and lemonade on Saturday afternoon."

  "Oh, thank you very much, Venables," said Darbishire happily,

  "Wait a minute," said Jennings. "We'll all have Old Wilkie's detention lesson at a quarter past four tomorrow."

  "Oh, I've forgotten about it," exclaimed Venables.

  "But we can go next week, can't' we?" said Darbishire.

  "A week is a long time," said Jennings. "Let's go tomorrow. We'll have a lot of time if we go after the football match is over at half past three. It'll take us ten minutes to go each way, and we'll have twenty minutes for doughnuts and lemonade. That will be enough, won't it?"

  "All right, then; we'll do that," said Venables. "But we must be very quick."

  * * *

  On Saturday morning the weather was cold and it was raining. But by the time the first football team was playing the match the sun was already shining brightly.

  The game ended at half past three, and three minutes later Jennings, Darbishire and Venables were hurrying along the village street to where a notice in a small house window t said: Home-made Cakes and Bicycles Repaired.

  "Here we are," said Venables and opened the garden gate.

  There was nobody in the garden, and the boys went into a small sitting-room of the house. There were usually not many visitors there and when they came they sat down at the little table on very old and shaky chairs.

  "Sit down, boys," Venables invited his friends, and the three boys sat down at the table. "I have ten shillings, so you can ask for anything you like - except a home-made bicycle."

  Mrs Lumly, the owner of -the shop, came out of the kitchen to see her first visitors of the day.

  "Yes?" she asked.

  "A plate of home-made cakes and doughnuts and three bottles of lemonade, please," said Venables after a short conversation with Jennings and Darbishire.

  Mrs Lumly slowly went out.

  "I hope she will do it quickly; it's a quarter to four already."

  Mrs Lumly had not hurried for the last forty years and did not want to do so now. She went slowly around the kitchen, washed some glasses, and saw if the cat's supper was ready. At last she came back to the sitting-room and put a plate with cakes and doughnuts and bottles on the table.

  "Thank you very much," said the visitors and began their feast. The doughnuts and cakes were really wonderful.

  "It will not cost more than ten shillings, will it?" asked Darbishire, with his mouth full of doughnuts.

  "Oh, no! That'll be three shillings," said Mrs Lumly. "But don't pay now, boys. Enjoy it, and I'll be in the kitchen if you want more doughnuts and cakes." And she left the sitting-room.

  For three minutes the boys did not speak - their mouths were too full of doughnuts and cakes to say a word. Then Jennings said, "Aren't these cakes and doughnuts wonderful!

  I haven't eaten anything like them since I was young-well, I mean younger than I am now."

  "Yes," said Darbishire, "it's very nice of you, Venables..." he suddenly stopped. "I say, Ven, what's the matter? Are you all right?"

  "What's that? Oh, yes, I'm all right, thank you", said Venables. But the expression his face showed that he was not.

  Jennings looked up from his plate, too.

  "What's the matter, Venables? Are you all right?" he asked.

  "I'm all right, thank you. I just suddenly thought..."

  "Don't worry about the detention class," said Jennings. "If we leave the place in five minutes we shall have enough time to go back to school."

  "It's not the detention class," answered Venables. "It was when you asked Mrs Lumly how much it all cost. I suddenly thought 'Gosh!'"

  "Well?" Jennings said. "What happened after you thought 'Gosh!'?"

  "Well, after I thought 'Gosh!', I thought again and then I thought 'Gosh!' I thought - I changed my jacket after dinner because Matron wanted to mend it."

  "Yes?"

  "Well... you see, I've left my ten-shilling note in my other jacket."

  "What!"

  "I'm very sorry and all that."

  "That's awful!" exclaimed Jennings. "We've already had three cakes, two doughnuts and two bottles of lemonade, and we haven't got a penny to pay for it! Why do all these things always happen to us?"

  "What shall we do?" asked Darbishire.

  "Let's explain it to Mrs Lumly and ask to pay later," said Venables.

  "No, she may not believe us," Jennings decided and turned to Venables. "You'll have to run to school faster than x miles an hour, Ven, and get that ten-shilling note from your other pocket. Darbi and I will sit here and eat these doughnuts as if nothing had happened."

  "But it will take Venables twenty minutes to walk to school and come back," Darbishire looked at his watch. "It's one minute to four."

  "You mustn't walk, Ven. Please, run quickly," said Jennings.

  Venables did not say a word but stood up from the table and ran out of the room.

  "Eat, Jennings, we mustn't let Mrs Lumly suspect anything."

  "I wonder if Venables will come back with the money before we have finished the cakes and doughnuts , on the plate," said Jennings. "If he doesn't come we shall have to ask for more, because..." He stopped because the kitchen door opened and Mrs Lumly came into the sitting-room.

  "I think I saw one of you in my garden," she said.

  "Yes, it's our friend. He's gone out... for a little walk. He'll be back soon," Jennings explained.

  Mrs Lumly looked at the now empty plate.

  "Do you want some more doughnuts?" she asked.

  "Well... yes... I think we'll have some more," said Jennings.

  "All right, boys," said Mrs Lumly, and went to the kitchen, "But I don't want any more doughnuts," said Darbishire.

  "I don't want them either, but what could I do?" said Jennings angrily.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  how many doughnuts and cakes can a boy eat?

  When Venables was going to school from Linbury, Mr Wilkins was gathering Form Three for the detention class. He wanted to begin the lesson at a quarter past four sharp, or better some minutes earlier. "Margaret's letter doesn't say what time she is coming," he thought, "but I think she will arrive at about five o'clock."

  Form Three also wanted to begin and finish the lesson as soon as possible.

  They sat down at their desks. When Mr Wilkins came into the classroom he was surprised t
o see that three boys were absent.

  "Why aren't all the boys present, when I'm in a hurry," he said.

  "They've gone to the village," said Temple. "But they wanted to come back by a quarter past four."

  "Well, I'm not going to wait for them all afternoon," Mr Wilkins said angrily. "Open your textbooks at page fourteen and read the example it gives." And Mr Wilkins went out of the classroom.

  In the corridor he looked out of the window. He hoped to see the three boys coming from the village. No, they were not coming. But Mr Carter was. He was walking along the corridor, and Mr Wilkins had to stop him.

  "You see, Carter," said Mr Wilkins, "my sister is coming this afternoon, and I want to finish this lesson before she arrives. If she comes before I'm free, will you please, take her to my room? She has not been here before, and she doesn't know where my room is."

  "Certainly," answered Mr Carter. "I will look after your class if she arrives early."

  "No, no. I think I'll finish the lesson at five o'clock... if only I can begin it. You see, three boys are absent from the lesson..."

  Mr Wilkins stopped because he saw Venables who at that moment appeared in the corridor. He was running along the corridor to Matron's room to take his ten-shilling note.

  "Here is one of them. He is in time." And Mr Wilkins called loudly: "Come along, Venables! Hurry up, boy! I'm waiting for you."

  Venables' face was red, sweat dropped from his face, he was out of breath,- he could not speak.

  "I'm glad you are hurrying to my lesson, Venables," said Mr Wilkins with a smile. "Run to the classroom and get your books and exercise-books out of your desk. I'm going to start now."

  In a minute Venables found himself at his desk, and Mr Wilkins began to explain what x's and y's meant. But Mr Wilkins was not very happy when he saw Venables put up his hand.

  "What's the matter, Venables?" asked Mr Wilkins. . . :

  "Please, sir, I can't come into class yet, sir," said Venables.

  "What do you mean - you can't come in? You are here."

  "I have to go to the village, sir."