The Wouldbegoods: Being the Further Adventures of the Treasure Seekers

by E. Nesbit

  CHAPTER 10. THE SALE OF ANTIQUITIES

  It began one morning at breakfast. It was the fifteenth of August--thebirthday of Napoleon the Great, Oswald Bastable, and another very nicewriter. Oswald was to keep his birthday on the Saturday, so that hisFather could be there. A birthday when there are only many happy returnsis a little like Sunday or Christmas Eve. Oswald had a birthday-card ortwo--that was all; but he did not repine, because he knew they alwaysmake it up to you for putting off keeping your birthday, and he lookedforward to Saturday.

  Albert's uncle had a whole stack of letters as usual, and presently hetossed one over to Dora, and said, 'What do you say, little lady? Shallwe let them come?'

  But Dora, butter-fingered as ever, missed the catch, and Dick and Noelboth had a try for it, so that the letter went into the place where thebacon had been, and where now only a frozen-looking lake of bacon fatwas slowly hardening, and then somehow it got into the marmalade, andthen H. O. got it, and Dora said--

  'I don't want the nasty thing now--all grease and stickiness.' So H. O.read it aloud--

  MAIDSTONE SOCIETY OF ANTIQUITIES AND FIELD CLUB Aug. 14, 1900

  'DEAR SIR,--At a meeting of the--'

  H. O. stuck fast here, and the writing was really very bad, like aspider that has been in the ink-pot crawling in a hurry over the paperwithout stopping to rub its feet properly on the mat. So Oswald tookthe letter. He is above minding a little marmalade or bacon. He began toread. It ran thus:

  'It's not Antiquities, you little silly,' he said; 'it's Antiquaries.'

  'The other's a very good word,' said Albert's uncle, 'and I nevercall names at breakfast myself--it upsets the digestion, my egregiousOswald.'

  'That's a name though,' said Alice, 'and you got it out of "Stalky",too. Go on, Oswald.'

  So Oswald went on where he had been interrupted:

  'MAIDSTONE SOCIETY OF "ANTIQUARIES" AND FIELD CLUB

  Aug. 14,1900.

  'DEAR SIR,--At a meeting of the Committee of this Society it was agreedthat a field day should be held on Aug. 20, when the Society proposes tovisit the interesting church of Ivybridge and also the Roman remainsin the vicinity. Our president, Mr Longchamps, F.R.S., has obtainedpermission to open a barrow in the Three Trees pasture. We venture toask whether you would allow the members of the Society to walk throughyour grounds and to inspect--from without, of course--your beautifulhouse, which is, as you are doubtless aware, of great historic interest,having been for some years the residence of the celebrated Sir ThomasWyatt.--I am, dear Sir, yours faithfully,

  'EDWARD K. TURNBULL (Hon. Sec.).'

  'Just so,' said Albert's uncle; 'well, shall we permit the eye of theMaidstone Antiquities to profane these sacred solitudes, and the foot ofthe Field Club to kick up a dust on our gravel?'

  'Our gravel is all grass,' H. O. said.

  And the girls said, 'Oh, do let them come!' It was Alice who said--

  'Why not ask them to tea? They'll be very tired coming all the way fromMaidstone.'

  'Would you really like it?' Albert's uncle asked. 'I'm afraid they'llbe but dull dogs, the Antiquities, stuffy old gentlemen with amphoraein their buttonholes instead of orchids, and pedigrees poking out of alltheir pockets.'

  We laughed--because we knew what an amphorae is. If you don't you mightlook it up in the dicker. It's not a flower, though it sounds like oneout of the gardening book, the kind you never hear of anyone growing.

  Dora said she thought it would be splendid.

  'And we could have out the best china,' she said, 'and decorate thetable with flowers. We could have tea in the garden. We've never had aparty since we've been here.'

  'I warn you that your guests may be boresome; however, have it your ownway,' Albert's uncle said; and he went off to write the invitation totea to the Maidstone Antiquities. I know that is the wrong word butsomehow we all used it whenever we spoke of them, which was often.

  In a day or two Albert's uncle came in to tea with a lightly-cloudedbrow.

  'You've let me in for a nice thing,' he said. 'I asked the Antiquitiesto tea, and I asked casually how many we might expect. I thoughtwe might need at least the full dozen of the best teacups. Now thesecretary writes accepting my kind invitation--'

  'Oh, good!' we cried. 'And how many are coming?' 'Oh, only aboutsixty,' was the groaning rejoinder. 'Perhaps more, should the weather beexceptionally favourable.'

  Though stunned at first, we presently decided that we were pleased.

  We had never, never given such a big party.

  The girls were allowed to help in the kitchen, where Mrs Pettigrew madecakes all day long without stopping. They did not let us boys be there,though I cannot see any harm in putting your finger in a cake beforeit is baked, and then licking your finger, if you are careful to puta different finger in the cake next time. Cake before it is baked isdelicious--like a sort of cream.

  Albert's uncle said he was the prey of despair. He drove in to Maidstoneone day. When we asked him where he was going, he said--

  'To get my hair cut: if I keep it this length I shall certainly tear itout by double handfuls in the extremity of my anguish every time I thinkof those innumerable Antiquities.'

  But we found out afterwards that he really went to borrow china andthings to give the Antiquities their tea out of; though he did have hishair cut too, because he is the soul of truth and honour.

  Oswald had a very good sort of birthday, with bows and arrows as well asother presents. I think these were meant to make up for the pistol thatwas taken away after the adventure of the fox-hunting. These gave usboys something to do between the birthday-keeping, which was on theSaturday, and the Wednesday when the Antiquities were to come.

  We did not allow the girls to play with the bows and arrows, becausethey had the cakes that we were cut off from: there was little or nounpleasantness over this.

  On the Tuesday we went down to look at the Roman place where theAntiquities were going to dig. We sat on the Roman wall and ate nuts.And as we sat there, we saw coming through the beet-field two labourerswith picks and shovels, and a very young man with thin legs and abicycle. It turned out afterwards to be a free-wheel, the first we hadever seen.

  They stopped at a mound inside the Roman wall, and the men took theircoats off and spat on their hands.

  We went down at once, of course. The thin-legged bicyclist explained hismachine to us very fully and carefully when we asked him, and then wesaw the men were cutting turfs and turning them over and rolling them upand putting them in a heap. So we asked the gentleman with the thin legswhat they were doing. He said--

  'They are beginning the preliminary excavation in readiness forto-morrow.'

  'What's up to-morrow?' H. O. asked.

  'To-morrow we propose to open this barrow and examine it.'

  'Then YOU'RE the Antiquities?' said H. O.

  'I'm the secretary,' said the gentleman, smiling, but narrowly.

  'Oh, you're all coming to tea with us,' Dora said, and added anxiously,'how many of you do you think there'll be?'

  'Oh, not more than eighty or ninety, I should think,' replied thegentleman.

  This took our breath away and we went home. As we went, Oswald,who notices many things that would pass unobserved by the light andcareless, saw Denny frowning hard. So he said, 'What's up?'

  'I've got an idea,' the Dentist said. 'Let's call a council.' TheDentist had grown quite used to our ways now. We had called him Dentistever since the fox-hunt day. He called a council as if he had been usedto calling such things all his life, and having them come, too; whereaswe all know that his former existing was that of a white mouse in atrap, with that cat of a Murdstone aunt watching him through the bars.

  (That is what is called a figure of speech. Albert's uncle told me.)

  Councils are held in the straw-loft. As soon as we were all there, andthe straw had stopped rustling after our sitting down, Dicky said--

  'I hope it's nothing to do with the Wouldbegoods?'
/>   'No,' said Denny in a hurry: 'quite the opposite.'

  'I hope it's nothing wrong,' said Dora and Daisy together.

  'It's--it's "Hail to thee, blithe spirit--bird thou never wert",' saidDenny. 'I mean, I think it's what is called a lark.'

  'You never know your luck. Go on, Dentist,' said Dicky.

  'Well, then, do you know a book called The Daisy Chain?'

  We didn't.

  'It's by Miss Charlotte M. Yonge,' Daisy interrupted, 'and it's abouta family of poor motherless children who tried so hard to be good,and they were confirmed, and had a bazaar, and went to church at theMinster, and one of them got married and wore black watered silk andsilver ornaments. So her baby died, and then she was sorry she had notbeen a good mother to it. And--' Here Dicky got up and said he'd gotsome snares to attend to, and he'd receive a report of the Council afterit was over. But he only got as far as the trap-door, and then Oswald,the fleet of foot, closed with him, and they rolled together on thefloor, while all the others called out 'Come back! Come back!' likeguinea-hens on a fence.

  Through the rustle and bustle and hustle of the struggle with Dicky,Oswald heard the voice of Denny murmuring one of his everlastingquotations--

  '"Come back, come back!" he cried in Greek, "Across the stormy water,And I'll forgive your Highland cheek, My daughter, O my daughter!"'

  When quiet was restored and Dicky had agreed to go through with theCouncil, Denny said--

  'The Daisy Chain is not a bit like that really. It's a ripping book. Oneof the boys dresses up like a lady and comes to call, and another triesto hit his little sister with a hoe. It's jolly fine, I tell you.'

  Denny is learning to say what he thinks, just like other boys. He wouldnever have learnt such words as 'ripping' and 'jolly fine' while underthe auntal tyranny.

  Since then I have read The Daisy Chain. It is a first-rate book forgirls and little boys.

  But we did not want to talk about The Daisy Chain just then, so Oswaldsaid--

  'But what's your lark?'Denny got pale pink and said--

  'Don't hurry me. I'll tell you directly. Let me think a minute.'

  Then he shut his pale pink eyelids a moment in thought, and then openedthem and stood up on the straw and said very fast--

  'Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears, or if not ears, pots.You know Albert's uncle said they were going to open the barrow, tolook for Roman remains to-morrow. Don't you think it seems a pity theyshouldn't find any?'

  'Perhaps they will,' Dora said.

  But Oswald saw, and he said 'Primus! Go ahead, old man.'

  The Dentist went ahead.

  'In The Daisy Chain,' he said, 'they dug in a Roman encampment and thechildren went first and put some pottery there they'd made themselves,and Harry's old medal of the Duke of Wellington. The doctor helped themto some stuff to partly efface the inscription, and all the grown-upswere sold. I thought we might--

  'You may break, you may shatter The vase if you will; But the scent of the Romans Will cling round it still.'

  Denny sat down amid applause. It really was a great idea, at least forHIM. It seemed to add just what was wanted to the visit of the MaidstoneAntiquities. To sell the Antiquities thoroughly would be indeedsplendiferous. Of course Dora made haste to point out that we had notgot an old medal of the Duke of Wellington, and that we hadn't anydoctor who would 'help us to stuff to efface', and etcetera; but westernly bade her stow it. We weren't going to do EXACTLY like thoseDaisy Chain kids.

  The pottery was easy. We had made a lot of it by the stream--which wasthe Nile when we discovered its source--and dried it in the sun, andthen baked it under a bonfire, like in Foul Play. And most of thethings were such queer shapes that they should have done for almostanything--Roman or Greek, or even Egyptian or antediluvian, orhousehold milk-jugs of the cavemen, Albert's uncle said. The pots were,fortunately, quite ready and dirty, because we had already buried themin mixed sand and river mud to improve the colour, and not remembered towash it off.

  So the Council at once collected it all--and some rusty hinges and somebrass buttons and a file without a handle; and the girl Councillorscarried it all concealed in their pinafores, while the men memberscarried digging tools. H. O. and Daisy were sent on ahead as scoutsto see if the coast was clear. We have learned the true usefulness ofscouts from reading about the Transvaal War. But all was still in thehush of evening sunset on the Roman ruin.

  We posted sentries, who were to lie on their stomachs on the walls andgive a long, low, signifying whistle if aught approached.

  Then we dug a tunnel, like the one we once did after treasure, when wehappened to bury a boy. It took some time; but never shall it be saidthat a Bastable grudged time or trouble when a lark was at stake. We putthe things in as naturally as we could, and shoved the dirt back, tilleverything looked just as before. Then we went home, late for tea.But it was in a good cause; and there was no hot toast, onlybread-and-butter, which does not get cold with waiting.

  That night Alice whispered to Oswald on the stairs, as we went up tobed--

  'Meet me outside your door when the others are asleep. Hist! Not aword.'

  Oswald said, 'No kid?' And she replied in the affirmation.

  So he kept awake by biting his tongue and pulling his hair--for heshrinks from no pain if it is needful and right.

  And when the others all slept the sleep of innocent youth, he got up andwent out, and there was Alice dressed.

  She said, 'I've found some broken things that look ever so much moreRoman--they were on top of the cupboard in the library. If you'll comewith me, we'll bury them just to see how surprised the others will be.'

  It was a wild and daring act, but Oswald did not mind.

  He said--

  'Wait half a shake.' And he put on his knickerbockers and jacket, andslipped a few peppermints into his pocket in case of catching cold.It is these thoughtful expedients which mark the born explorer andadventurer.

  It was a little cold; but the white moonlight was very fair to see, andwe decided we'd do some other daring moonlight act some other day. Wegot out of the front door, which is never locked till Albert's unclegoes to bed at twelve or one, and we ran swiftly and silently across thebridge and through the fields to the Roman ruin.

  Alice told me afterwards she should have been afraid if it had beendark. But the moonlight made it as bright as day is in your dreams.

  Oswald had taken the spade and a sheet of newspaper.

  We did not take all the pots Alice had found--but just the two thatweren't broken--two crooked jugs, made of stuff like flower-pots aremade of. We made two long cuts with the spade and lifted the turf up andscratched the earth under, and took it out very carefully in handfulson to the newspaper, till the hole was deepish. Then we put in the jugs,and filled it up with earth and flattened the turf over. Turf stretcheslike elastic. This we did a couple of yards from the place where themound was dug into by the men, and we had been so careful with thenewspaper that there was no loose earth about.

  Then we went home in the wet moonlight--at least the grass was verywet--chuckling through the peppermint, and got up to bed without anyoneknowing a single thing about it.

  The next day the Antiquities came. It was a jolly hot day, and thetables were spread under the trees on the lawn, like a large and verygrand Sunday-school treat. There were dozens of different kinds of cake,and bread-and-butter, both white and brown, and gooseberries andplums and jam sandwiches. And the girls decorated the tables withflowers--blue larkspur and white Canterbury bells. And at about threethere was a noise of people walking in the road, and presently theAntiquities began to come in at the front gate, and stood about on thelawn by twos and threes and sixes and sevens, looking shy and uncomfy,exactly like a Sunday-school treat. Presently some gentlemen came, wholooked like the teachers; they were not shy, and they came right up tothe door. So Albert's uncle, who had not been too proud to be up in ourroom with us watching the people on the lawn through the netting of our
short blinds, said--

  'I suppose that's the Committee. Come on!'

  So we all went down--we were in our Sunday things--and Albert's unclereceived the Committee like a feudal system baron, and we were hisretainers.

  He talked about dates, and king posts and gables, and mullions, andfoundations, and records, and Sir Thomas Wyatt, and poetry, and JuliusCaesar, and Roman remains, and lych gates and churches, and dog's-toothmoulding till the brain of Oswald reeled. I suppose that Albert's uncleremarked that all our mouths were open, which is a sign of reels in thebrain, for he whispered--

  'Go hence, and mingle unsuspected with the crowd!'

  So we went out on to the lawn, which was now crowded with men and womenand one child. This was a girl; she was fat, and we tried to talk toher, though we did not like her. (She was covered in red velvet likean arm-chair.) But she wouldn't. We thought at first she was from adeaf-and-dumb asylum, where her kind teachers had only managed to teachthe afflicted to say 'Yes' and 'No'. But afterwards we knew better, forNoel heard her say to her mother, 'I wish you hadn't brought me, mamma.I didn't have a pretty teacup, and I haven't enjoyed my tea one bit.'And she had had five pieces of cake, besides little cakes and nearlya whole plate of plums, and there were only twelve pretty teacupsaltogether.

  Several grown-ups talked to us in a most uninterested way, and thenthe President read a paper about the Moat House, which we couldn'tunderstand, and other people made speeches we couldn't understandeither, except the part about kind hospitality, which made us not knowwhere to look.

  Then Dora and Alice and Daisy and Mrs Pettigrew poured out the tea, andwe handed cups and plates.

  Albert's uncle took me behind a bush to see him tear what was leftof his hair when he found there were one hundred and twenty-threeAntiquities present, and I heard the President say to the Secretary that'tea always fetched them'.

  Then it was time for the Roman ruin, and our hearts beat high as we tookour hats--it was exactly like Sunday--and joined the crowded processionof eager Antiquities. Many of them had umbrellas and overcoats, thoughthe weather was fiery and without a cloud. That is the sort of peoplethey were. The ladies all wore stiff bonnets, and no one took theirgloves off, though, of course, it was quite in the country, and it isnot wrong to take your gloves off there.

  We had planned to be quite close when the digging went on; but Albert'suncle made us a mystic sign and drew us apart.

  Then he said: 'The stalls and dress circle are for the guests. The hostsand hostesses retire to the gallery, whence, I am credibly informed, anexcellent view may be obtained.'

  So we all went up on the Roman walls, and thus missed the cream of thelark; for we could not exactly see what was happening. But we saw thatthings were being taken from the ground as the men dug, and passedround for the Antiquities to look at. And we knew they must be our Romanremains; but the Antiquities did not seem to care for them much, thoughwe heard sounds of pleased laughter. And at last Alice and I exchangedmeaning glances when the spot was reached where we had put in theextras. Then the crowd closed up thick, and we heard excited talk and weknew we really HAD sold the Antiquities this time.

  Presently the bonnets and coats began to spread out and trickle towardsthe house and we were aware that all would soon be over. So we cut homethe back way, just in time to hear the President saying to Albert'suncle--

  'A genuine find--most interesting. Oh, really, you ought to have ONE.Well, if you insist--'

  And so, by slow and dull degrees, the thick sprinkling of Antiquitiesmelted off the lawn; the party was over, and only the dirty teacups andplates, and the trampled grass and the pleasures of memory were left.

  We had a very beautiful supper--out of doors, too--with jam sandwichesand cakes and things that were over; and as we watched the settingmonarch of the skies--I mean the sun--Alice said--

  'Let's tell.'

  We let the Dentist tell, because it was he who hatched the lark, but wehelped him a little in the narrating of the fell plot, because he hasyet to learn how to tell a story straight from the beginning.

  When he had done, and we had done, Albert's uncle said, 'Well, itamused you; and you'll be glad to learn that it amused your friends theAntiquities.'

  'Didn't they think they were Roman?' Daisy said; 'they did in The DaisyChain.'

  'Not in the least,' said Albert's uncle; 'but the Treasurer andSecretary were charmed by your ingenious preparations for theirreception.'

  'We didn't want them to be disappointed,' said Dora.

  'They weren't,' said Albert's uncle. 'Steady on with those plums, H.O. Alittle way beyond the treasure you had prepared for them they found twospecimens of REAL Roman pottery which sent every man-jack of them homethanking his stars he had been born a happy little Antiquary child.'

  'Those were our jugs,' said Alice, 'and we really HAVE sold theAntiquities. She unfolded the tale about our getting the jugs andburying them in the moonlight, and the mound; and the others listenedwith deeply respectful interest. 'We really have done it this time,haven't we?' she added in tones of well-deserved triumph.

  But Oswald had noticed a queer look about Albert's uncle from almost thebeginning of Alice's recital; and he now had the sensation of somethingbeing up, which has on other occasions frozen his noble blood. Thesilence of Albert's uncle now froze it yet more Arcticly.

  'Haven't we?' repeated Alice, unconscious of what her sensitivebrother's delicate feelings had already got hold of. 'We have done itthis time, haven't we?'

  'Since you ask me thus pointedly,' answered Albert's uncle at last, 'Icannot but confess that I think you have indeed done it. Those pots onthe top of the library cupboard ARE Roman pottery. The amphoraewhich you hid in the mound are probably--I can't say for certain,mind--priceless. They are the property of the owner of this house. Youhave taken them out and buried them. The President of the MaidstoneAntiquarian Society has taken them away in his bag. Now what are yougoing to do?'

  Alice and I did not know what to say, or where to look. The others addedto our pained position by some ungenerous murmurs about our not being sojolly clever as we thought ourselves.

  There was a very far from pleasing silence. Then Oswald got up. Hesaid--

  'Alice, come here a sec; I want to speak to you.'

  As Albert's uncle had offered no advice, Oswald disdained to ask him forany.

  Alice got up too, and she and Oswald went into the garden, and sat downon the bench under the quince tree, and wished they had never tried tohave a private lark of their very own with the Antiquities--'A PrivateSale', Albert's uncle called it afterwards. But regrets, as nearlyalways happens, were vain. Something had to be done.

  But what?

  Oswald and Alice sat in silent desperateness, and the voices of thegay and careless others came to them from the lawn, where, heartlessin their youngness, they were playing tag. I don't know how they could.Oswald would not like to play tag when his brother and sister were in ahole, but Oswald is an exception to some boys.

  But Dicky told me afterwards he thought it was only a joke of Albert'suncle's.

  The dusk grew dusker, till you could hardly tell the quinces from theleaves, and Alice and Oswald still sat exhausted with hard thinking, butthey could not think of anything. And it grew so dark that the moonlightbegan to show.

  Then Alice jumped up--just as Oswald was opening his mouth to saythe same thing--and said, 'Of course--how silly! I know. Come on in,Oswald.' And they went on in.

  Oswald was still far too proud to consult anyone else. But he just askedcarelessly if Alice and he might go into Maidstone the next day tobuy some wire-netting for a rabbit-hutch, and to see after one or twothings.

  Albert's uncle said certainly. And they went by train with the bailifffrom the farm, who was going in about some sheep-dip and to buy pigs.At any other time Oswald would not have been able to bear to leave thebailiff without seeing the pigs bought. But now it was different. For heand Alice had the weight on their bosoms of being thieves without havingmeant it--
and nothing, not even pigs, had power to charm the young buthonourable Oswald till that stain had been wiped away.

  So he took Alice to the Secretary of the Maidstone Antiquities' house,and Mr Turnbull was out, but the maid-servant kindly told us where thePresident lived, and ere long the trembling feet of the unfortunatebrother and sister vibrated on the spotless gravel of Camperdown Villa.

  When they asked, they were told that Mr Longchamps was at home. Thenthey waited, paralysed with undescribed emotions, in a large room withbooks and swords and glass bookcases with rotten-looking odds and endsin them. Mr Longchamps was a collector. That means he stuck to anything,no matter how ugly and silly, if only it was old.

  He came in rubbing his hands, and very kind. He remembered us very well,he said, and asked what he could do for us.

  Oswald for once was dumb. He could not find words in which to ownhimself the ass he had been. But Alice was less delicately moulded. Shesaid--

  'Oh, if you please, we are most awfully sorry, and we hope you'llforgive us, but we thought it would be such a pity for you and all theother poor dear Antiquities to come all that way and then find nothingRoman--so we put some pots and things in the barrow for you to find.'

  'So I perceived,' said the President, stroking his white beard andsmiling most agreeably at us; 'a harmless joke, my dear! Youth's theseason for jesting. There's no harm done--pray think no more about it.It's very honourable of you to come and apologize, I'm sure.'

  His brow began to wear the furrowed, anxious look of one who wouldfain be rid of his guests and get back to what he was doing before theyinterrupted him.

  Alice said, 'We didn't come for that. It's MUCH worse. Those were twoREAL true Roman jugs you took away; we put them there; they aren'tours. We didn't know they were real Roman. We wanted to sell theAntiquities--I mean Antiquaries--and we were sold ourselves.'

  'This is serious,' said the gentleman. 'I suppose you'd know the--the"jugs" if you saw them again?'

  'Anywhere,' said Oswald, with the confidential rashness of one who doesnot know what he is talking about.

  Mr Longchamps opened the door of a little room leading out of the one wewere in, and beckoned us to follow. We found ourselves amid shelves andshelves of pottery of all sorts; and two whole shelves--small ones--werefilled with the sort of jug we wanted.

  'Well,' said the President, with a veiled menacing sort of smile, like awicked cardinal, 'which is it?'

  Oswald said, 'I don't know.'

  Alice said, 'I should know if I had it in my hand.'

  The President patiently took the jugs down one after another, and Alicetried to look inside them. And one after another she shook her head andgave them back. At last she said, 'You didn't WASH them?'

  Mr Longchamps shuddered and said 'No'.

  'Then,' said Alice, 'there is something written with lead-pencil insideboth the jugs. I wish I hadn't. I would rather you didn't read it. Ididn't know it would be a nice old gentleman like you would find it.I thought it would be the younger gentleman with the thin legs and thenarrow smile.'

  'Mr Turnbull.' The President seemed to recognize the descriptionunerringly. 'Well, well--boys will be boys--girls, I mean. I won't beangry. Look at all the "jugs" and see if you can find yours.'

  Alice did--and the next one she looked at she said, 'This is one'--andtwo jugs further on she said, 'This is the other.'

  'Well,' the President said, 'these are certainly the specimens which Iobtained yesterday. If your uncle will call on me I will return themto him. But it's a disappointment. Yes, I think you must let me lookinside.'

  He did. And at the first one he said nothing. At the second he laughed.

  'Well, well,' he said, 'we can't expect old heads on young shoulders.You're not the first who went forth to shear and returned shorn. Nor, itappears, am I. Next time you have a Sale of Antiquities, take care thatyou yourself are not "sold". Good-day to you, my dear. Don't let theincident prey on your mind,' he said to Alice. 'Bless your heart, I wasa boy once myself, unlikely as you may think it. Good-bye.'

  We were in time to see the pigs bought after all.

  I asked Alice what on earth it was she'd scribbled inside the beastlyjugs, and she owned that just to make the lark complete she had written'Sucks' in one of the jugs, and 'Sold again, silly', in the other.

  But we know well enough who it was that was sold. And if ever we haveany Antiquities to tea again, they shan't find so much as a Greekwaistcoat button if we can help it.

  Unless it's the President, for he did not behave at all badly. For aman of his age I think he behaved exceedingly well. Oswald can picturea very different scene having been enacted over those rotten pots if thePresident had been an otherwise sort of man.

  But that picture is not pleasing, so Oswald will not distress you bydrawing it for you. You can most likely do it easily for yourself.