by J. P. Martin
“Oh, you wouldn’t do that, sir. I thought I was doing you a good turn, getting you out early. You’d never have stuck his lecture on frying. Why, it takes him half an hour to get the fat hot, and he talks and laughs the whole time. You’d never have the patience, sir!”
Uncle knew this was true, so he said no more. They took the hake back for supper, but it tasted horrible, so they gave it to Alonzo S. Whitebeard, who doesn’t mind how things taste so long as they are free.
SEVEN
In the Library
THE NEXT DAY Uncle decided to go with the Old Monkey to have a cup of coffee at Gasparado’s Restaurant.
Gasparado’s is situated in the market-place of Badgertown. It’s rather a doubtful restaurant. Uncle doesn’t know that customers are sometimes hit on the head, robbed and left to cool off in the little Italian garden at the side of the shop. He goes there occasionally simply because the top window overlooks the market-square, and is so well hidden that he can’t be seen. That’s an attraction to Uncle.
He ordered a bucket of special coffee with a cup for the Old Monkey. Gasparado brought it himself, and greeted them with an oily smile. “It’s very good of you, sir, to patronize our quiet little house,” he said.
Uncle only grunted. He doesn’t like Gasparado much. Gasparado went away, and Uncle, after drinking his coffee, picked up a paper called the Badfort News. He does not take this paper regularly, but when he comes across a copy in a café he eagerly reads it. This was what met his eyes:
ANOTHER OUTRAGE
We are horrified to find that the Tyrant of Homeward has added yet another to his long list of crimes. He went yesterday to the excellent Fish-Frying Academy of Professor Gandleweaver, and there carried out a contemptible theft. He took with him a degraded cat that he had specially trained to steal fish. This feline burglar seized a valuable hake from the Professor’s table.
Uncle looked up from the paper with a frowning face that disturbed the Old Monkey. Just then they heard shouting and laughter in the square, and, throwing down his paper in disgust, Uncle looked out of the window. The Old Monkey ran to stand beside him.
What they saw surprised them.
There in the square were Beaver Hateman, Nailrod Hateman, and Sigismund Hateman. Beaver Hateman was playing a guitar, and Sigismund and Nailrod were singing a duet. They had a great portrait of Uncle on a board, with the newspaper cutting pinned on to it, and above it in red letters were the words:
THE WORLD’S TRICKIEST FISH-SNEAK
Crowds of people surrounded the singers. Flabskin and Jellytussle and many others of the gang were there to lead the responses. They called their song ‘Question and Answer’ and this is how it went:
Nailrod and Sigismund sang the first line, and the rest of the gang replied, while Beaver strummed his guitar and old Nailrod kept time on a drum.
“Would you like to know just how to steal a fish?”
“Yes, sir! Yes, sir! That is my wish.”
“Would you like to hear the trickiest way?”
“Yes, sir! Yes, sir! Tell me today!”
“How would it be to get a trained cat?”
“Go on, sir! Go on, sir! There’s something in that!”
They sang these verses and several more to a rather lilting tune, and then Beaver Hateman went round with a collecting box. People were laughing at his song, and humming it, and he seemed to be collecting a fair amount of money.
Uncle ground his teeth.
“If only I had a stone club!” he said.
Gasparado had been listening behind the door. Now he came in with a treacherous smile, and said:
“I have a ver goot stone club hanging up in de hall. It is curio that my broder brought me from Borneo. I hire him to you for thirty shillin’. It is dear because of de sentimental value!”
Uncle was desperate for vengeance, so he paid the thirty shillings and crept softly down the stairs.
All would have gone well, if that little wretch Hitmouse hadn’t been on the look-out.
The moment Uncle and the Old Monkey emerged he shouted:
“Look out, here comes old Snorty!”
Before Uncle could swing his club the singers had vanished down a narrow entry, while Hitmouse dived down a drain.
Uncle looked round, and then tossed the club back into the restaurant with a haughty gesture.
“Pah!” he said to the Old Monkey. “Let’s get away. The atmosphere is absolutely polluted.”
They went back to Homeward, and there in the hall was the teacher from the Fish-Frying Academy, Will Shudder.
“I came to tell you, sir, that I’ve lost my job. The Academy has been closed down. All the boys rebelled after your last visit. They all want to work for you and think the fish-frying business is a wash-out.”
Uncle rubbed his hands. All his annoyance was forgotten. He had been uneasy in his mind about the boys undergoing Professor Gandleweaver’s fish-frying course.
“Well,” he said, “I am glad to hear it. I may be able to find posts for some of the boys, and the younger ones can go to Dr Lyre’s school. At any rate, they will be better there than at Gandleweaver’s!” He paused, and then added: “I suppose Gandleweaver is still keeping up his fish-frying displays?”
“Oh, yes, he’ll keep them up so long as he can get mugs to come and watch him. Between you and me, sir, he can’t fry! He almost always burns the fish, and he uses abominably stale batter!”
“I can believe it,” said Uncle. “Well, I think I can find you some useful work. How would you like to be a librarian? I’ve got a big library that wants classifying. A penny a week, free rooms and board!”
Shudder’s weary eyes gleamed. He had long hoped for such a post.
“Oh, sir,” he said, “what a wonderful chance! I promise I shall be systematic and work hard.”
“The post’s yours then,” said Uncle, “and we might as well go and have a look at the library!”
They went there at once. The library is a most interesting place. It’s quite near the dining-room, but hardly anyone goes there except Goodman the cat. Uncle himself used to be a great reader but since taking his degree he has read very little. However, he still orders books, and for some years these have piled up in the library. He orders at least a thousand books every year, and there is a vast pile there waiting to be put on shelves.
The building consists of a stupendous hall which goes all round the bases of four big square towers that are set about a lake. It’s really four rooms in one, and the rooms are so big that if you want to go from one of them to the one opposite it’s easier to row across than to walk round. A good boat has been provided for this. Although this lake comes right up to just below the windows, the hall is perfectly dry. It has books going up so high that you can’t possibly see where the top rows are, but luckily there’s a patent step-ladder with a chair at the back. Simply press a button and the chair soars right up to the ceiling, so that you can easily reach the topmost books.
The library walls are of a brown colour with rich red silk curtains. It looks very grand, but at the time when they saw it it was rather blocked up with great cases of books.
In it there are nine immense gas fires in fireplaces shaped like dragons. You light the gas, and the dragons become red-hot. It looks fine on a winter evening. It’s evident that the place is honey-combed with secret passages, for there are all sorts of peculiar knobs and handles in places where there are no books.
In the middle of each of the four parts of the room is an ink fountain. A jet of ink shoots into the air from a black bowl, and falls softly back. It’s a handy place for filling fountain pens and ink-pots. Also on a counter near the door there’s a very convenient little stationery machine. This is shaped like a bear. Hit him in the right eye, and he shoots out a postcard from his mouth. Hit him in the left, and he shoots out a sheet of paper and an envelope. Hit him on the nose, and he shoots out a small flat box with ten sheets of paper and ten envelopes. And the funny thing is he never seems to
run short.
Will Shudder had one look at the place and then began to cry.
“What’s up?” said Uncle.
“Excuse me, sir,” said Shudder, pulling himself together, “but I feel a bit upset with pleasure. I shall be perfectly happy here. I shan’t need any wages – just a little of the plainest food, and I’ll sleep among the books!”
“No you won’t,” said Uncle. “The Old Monkey will find you a room, and you shall have the wages I promised you, and eat at our table!”
“Oh, thank you, sir,” said Will Shudder. “At that wretched academy I got no wages at all, and I had to live on stale fish and batter, and it was so frightfully dull!”
“Why did you stay then?”
“Gandleweaver promised me a partnership.”
“It’s high time you got out of all that. But, Shudder, there’s one thing you might do for me here. I’m expecting a big attack from Badfort any day now. Just keep an eye open for anything unusual!”
They all went to have lunch after this. Shudder sat next to the cat. He tried to stroke him, but the cat is a very outspoken creature, and told him not to.
“Paws off!” he said. “You and I are going to be pals all right, but I can’t bear being stroked. It makes me feel silly. I don’t mind having my tail pulled. In fact, I rather like it. If you get hold of my tail and pull me along a smooth board, it’s a real treat. Still, you and I will get on all right because we both like books. When I was working for the wizard it got very tiring watching a rat-hole for hours, so I used to have a book by me and read by the side of the hole. It didn’t prevent me catching ’em. Not a bit. I’ve even stunned ’em with a book before today!”
Soon after this Shudder and the cat went into the library for the afternoon. Shudder lit up the stoves and the place looked fine. He saw at once that it would take years to get the books thoroughly straight.
The cat took down a very interesting book and there was no sound except the faint turning of leaves, occasional slight mews, and the scratching of Shudder’s pen.
There was a quiet almost sleepy atmosphere, but Goodman was wide awake. When an enormous rat peeped round the corner and began to nibble at the cover of a big book bound in leather, he got the surprise of his life. Goodman made one bound and was on him like a streak of lightning. He only just escaped and was ill for a long time afterwards.
EIGHT
They Call at Cadcoon’s Store
THERE WAS A little shop at the top of a hill near Uncle’s that was called Cadcoon’s Store, and Uncle had often thought of going there. The difficulty was to get away. There was so much to do at Homeward, and Uncle was practically sure that the Badfort crowd were about. Shudder told him that he was certain that he had heard someone swimming in the lake last thing at night when he went to shut up the library.
The cat Goodman had also found an empty Black Tom bottle on one of the sills.
All this made Uncle somewhat reluctant to leave his house, but one morning he received a letter.
It was from Cadcoon:
Honoured Sir,
I have long wished you to visit my store and sample my goods, but I know that your time is much taken up. However, I have received a threatening letter from Beaver Hateman, in which he says that he is coming today to obtain provisions from me free of cost.
As he will be safely away from your district, I suggest that you pay me a visit with some of your friends. I should like you to see me deal with that bandit.
Yours respectfully,
JOSEPH CADCOON
P.S. Try our Jumping Bean Rusks. Something new as a breakfast food.
“Good,” said Uncle to the Old Monkey. “The way seems clear. I will take you and Gubbins. That will be enough, I think.”
“What about me?” said the cat Goodman, who had been listening very eagerly.
“I think we had better leave you at home, my young friend, you might be stealing fish again!”
“Let him come, sir,” said the Old Monkey. “He worked very hard yesterday with letters and parcels, and I haven’t seen a single rat since he came.”
In the end Uncle allowed him to go on condition that he behaved gravely and decently. They also took the One-Armed Badger. This time he was only allowed to carry empty cases and boxes, so that he could fill them at the store.
Cadcoon’s Store was situated at the top of an extremely steep hill. It was really a wonder he got any customers, because it was very difficult indeed to climb up to the store. People often slipped in the winter and rolled down from the top to the bottom. Still he had a fair number of customers. His stuff was not very cheap, but it always had a peculiar rich flavour that made you want to taste it again.
They found it very hard work to get up the hill, but at last they reached the top, and paused for a moment to get their breath. Just ahead of them, on a sort of platform, stood Cadcoon’s Store. It didn’t look like a shop, but more like a house. It was very neat and had pretty curtains at the windows. These were made of panther-skin, and Cadcoon was very proud of them. From these bow windows you could look right on to the porch.
“If he’s expecting Beaver Hateman I hope he’s rubbed those windows with Babble-Trout Oil,” said Uncle. “They just ask to be broken, sticking out like that.”
“What’s Babble-Trout Oil?” asked Goodman.
“Any glass rubbed with it is unbreakable,” said Uncle. “Useful stuff.”
“I’m sure Mr Cadcoon will have a good supply,” said the Old Monkey, “to protect his curtains.”
The funny thing was that though Cadcoon’s Store was noted for good provisions the only food they could see as they stood in the porch was one loaf of white bread on a shelf behind the front door. Cadcoon soon came to the door. He was a neat, gentlemanly man, and he welcomed them in and took them upstairs, where there was a large room covering the whole top of the house and with views to every side.
“I’ve been thinking out a nice meal for you,” he said. “What do you say to bread and butter?”
“Thank you,” said Uncle, though he thought it sounded a little on the plain side for visitors. He changed his mind though, when he tasted it. This was real Cadcoon bread and butter. You took a bite. It tasted like bread and butter, and yet there was something special about it. You took another bite and your pleasure increased. The cat Goodman was provided with a large brown pan of milk; it looked ordinary enough, but he drank it with the liveliest satisfaction, purring loudly, and every now and then shouting: “Splendid!”
While they were enjoying the unexpected flavour of these delicacies, Cadcoon said:
“I expect Beaver Hateman any time now, and I’m going to deal with him. I know, sir, that you are the best subduer of this bandit, but I would like you to have a little rest today. Settle down and enjoy yourselves. Here’s another plate of bread and butter. I will be downstairs washing the works of my clock with very thin gruel while I’m waiting. The thing goes slow, and I have the idea that thin gruel squirted into the works may do some good.”
He went downstairs, and for a few minutes all was quiet.
Then in the distance they heard heavy snorting.
Someone was coming up the slope.
They all moved to the windows, and very soon a hot red face appeared over the edge of the platform.
Beaver Hateman had come by himself for once. As you know, he usually brings many supporters. He soon reached the front door and banged the knocker down so hard that it seemed as if the wood must split.
Then he gave a mighty shout:
“Bring out food, the best you’ve got, and hurry up!”
Cadcoon pulled aside the panther-skin curtains and put his head out of a little side window.
“Where’s your money?” he asked sharply.
“Money? Me? Don’t be a fool!” Beaver Hateman leapt forward and seized hold of Cadcoon’s nose.
“Now, you rascal,” he yelled, “bring out those provisions or I’ll twist your nose off!”
Cadcoon could hardl
y speak, but he managed to mutter in a stifled voice: “Release me a little, I can’t speak!”
Hateman loosened his grip, and told him to say what he had to say quickly.
“I’ll come to the door and hand you out a loaf of my special bread, Mr Hateman,” said Cadcoon humbly.
Hateman was reluctant to let him go, but did so at last.
“I want more than a loaf,” he said, “a lot more, and hurry up, you slimy viper!”
Uncle, the Old Monkey and Goodman saw Hateman bang his fists on the bow windows, but the glass was too well rubbed with Babble-Trout Oil to break.
Then they all hurried out on to the landing so that they could look down into the hall and see what happened when Hateman and Cadcoon met at the front door.
The first thing they saw was Cadcoon reaching for the large white loaf that stood on the shelf by the door.
With a lightning movement Cadcoon opened the door and flung the loaf at Beaver Hateman. It hit him with great force on the head and sent him spinning along the platform. As they watched he disappeared over the edge, and they could hear him bellowing and roaring as he rolled down the slope.
“Oh, sir,” gasped the Old Monkey, “that’s no ordinary loaf!”
He was right. As they found out later the loaf was made of wood skilfully painted to look like a crusty loaf.
Goodman was down the stairs and outside in a flash. He came scampering back from the edge of the platform to report.
“Beaver Hateman’s picked himself up. He was rubbing his head and saying horrible things. Shouting them too. I’ve never heard such things. Do you know what he said about—?”
“That’s enough, Goodman,” said Uncle. “I don’t want to hear his vile remarks! I only hope he has learned a lesson.”
Then Uncle turned to Cadcoon.
“I am much impressed by your quiet efficiency,” he said, “and now let us have a look at your store.”
Cadcoon led the way. He keeps his food in iron safes to protect it from flies and bandits.
