(5/20)Over the Gate by Miss Read Read Free Book Online Page A

you want?' I asked Joseph Coggs, staring monkeylike at me over the rim of his mug.
    'Football,' croaked Joseph, in his hoarse gipsy voice. 'Might get it too.'
    It occurred to me that this would make an excellent exercise in writing and spelling. Milk finished, I set them to work on long strips of paper.
    'Ernest wants some boxing gloves for Christmas,' was the first entry.
    'Patrick hopes to get—' began the second. The children joined in tins list-making with great enthusiasm.
    When Mrs Crossley, who brings the dinners, arrived, she was cross-questioned about her hopes.
    'Well now, I don't really know,' she confessed, balancing the tins against her wet mackintosh and peering perplexedly over the top. 'A kitchen set, I think. You know, a potato masher and fish slice and all that, in a nice Little rack.'
    The children obviously thought this a pretty poor present but began to write down: 'Mrs Crossley wants a kitchen set,' below the last entry, looking faintly disbelieving as they did so.
    'And what do you want?' asked Linda, when Mrs Cross had vanished.
    'Let me see,' I said slowly. 'Some extra nice soap, perhaps, and bath cubes; and a book or two, and a new rose bush to plant by my back door.'
    'Is that all?'
    'No sweets?'
    'No, no sweets,' I said. 'But I should like a very pretty little ring I saw in Caxley last Saturday.'
    'You'll have to get married for that,' said Ernest soberly. 'And you're too old now.' The others nodded in agreement.
    'You're probably right,' I told them, keeping a straight face. 'Put your papers away and let's set the tables for dinner.'

    The sleet was cruelly painful on our faces as we scuttled across the churchyard to St Patrick's. Inside it was cold and shadowy. The marble memorial tablets on the wall glimmered faintly in the gloom, and the air struck chill.
    But the crib was aglow with rosy light, a spot of warmth and hope in the darkness. The children tip-toed towards it, awed by their surroundings.
    They spent a long time gazing, whispering their admiration and pointing out particular details to each other. They were loth to leave it, and the shelter of the great church, which had defied worse weather than this for many centuries.
    We pelted back to the school, for I had a secret plan to put into action, and three o'clock was the time appointed for it. St Patrick's clock chimed a quarter to, above our heads, as we hurried across the churchyard.
    I had arranged with the infants' teacher to go privately into the lobby promptly at three and there shake some bells abstracted earlier from the percussion band box. We hoped that the infants would believe that an invisible Father Christmas had driven by on his sleigh and delivered the two sacks of parcels which would be found in the lobby. At the moment, these were in the hall of my house. I proposed to leave my class for a minute, shake the bells, hide them from inquisitive eyes and return again to the children.
    This innocent deception could not hope to take in many of my own children, I felt sure, but the babies would enjoy it, and so too would the younger ones in my classroom. I was always surprised at the remarkable reticence which the older children showed when the subject of Father Christmas cropped up. Those that knew seemed more than willing to keep up the pretence for the sake of the younger ones, and perhaps because they feared that the presents would not be forthcoming if they let the cat out of the bag or boasted of their knowledge.
    I settled the class with more paper. They could draw a picture of the crib or St Patrick's church, or a winter scene of any kind, I told them. Someone wanted to go on with his list of presents and was readily given permission. The main thing was to have a very quiet classroom at three o'clock. Our Gothic doors are of sturdy oak and the sleigh bells would have to be shaken to a frenzy in order to make themselves heard.
    At two minutes to three by the wall clock Patrick looked up from drawing a church with all