William the Fourth

William the Fourth by Richmal Crompton Read Free Book Online Page B

Book: William the Fourth by Richmal Crompton Read Free Book Online
Authors: Richmal Crompton
what we can.’
    Here the shirt-sleeve man appeared at the window.
    ‘That’s right,’ he said kindly. ‘Take all day about it. Don’t hurry! We all enjoy hanging about and waiting for you.’
    Father Christmas offered to retire from his post in favour of the shirt-sleeve man, and the shirt-sleeve man hastily retreated.
    Then came the task of fitting William into the skin. It was not an easy task.
    ‘You’re bigger,’ said Father Christmas, ‘than what you look in the distance. Considerable.’
    William could not stand quite upright in the skin, but by stooping slightly he could see and speak through the open mouth of the head. In an ecstasy of joy he pummelled the big bear, the little
bear gladly joined in the fray and a furry ball of three struggling bears rolled out of the door of the hut.
    The shirt-sleeve man rang a bell.
    ‘After this somewhat lengthy interlude,’ he said. ‘By the way, may I inquire the name of our new friend?’
    William proudly shouted his name through the aperture in the bear’s head.
    ‘Well, Billiam,’ he said jocularly, ‘do just what I tell you and you’ll be all right. Now all clear off a minute, please. We’ve only a few scenes to do
here.’
    ‘Location,’ he read from a paper in his hand, ‘hut in wood. Enter fairies with Fairy Queen. Dance.’
    ‘How I am expected to dance,’ said the Fairy Queen bitterly, ‘tortured by toothache, I can’t think.’
    ‘You don’t dance with your teeth,’ said the shirt-sleeve man unsympathetically ‘Let’s go through it once before we turn on the machine. You’ve rehearsed it
often enough. Now, come on.’
    They danced a dance that made William gape in surprise and admiration, so dainty and airy was it.
    ‘Enter Father Christmas,’ went on the shirt-sleeve man.
    ‘What I can’t think,’ said Father Christmas, fastening on his beard, ‘is what a Father Christmas’s doing in this effect.’
    ‘Nor a giant,’ said the giant sadly.
    ‘It’s for a Christmas show,’ said the shirt-sleeve man. ‘You’ve gotter have a Father Christmas in a Christmas show, or else how’d people know it’s a
Christmas show? And you’ve gotter have a giant in a fairy tale whether there is one in it or not.’
    Father Christmas joined the dance – gave presents to all the fairies, then retired behind the hut to his private store of refreshment.
    ‘Enter Goldilocks,’ said the shirt-sleeve man. ‘Now, where the dickens is that kid?’
    Goldilocks, fat, fairy and rosy, appeared from behind a tree where she had been eating bananas.
    She peered down the middle bear’s mouth.
    ‘It’s a new one,’ she said.
    ‘The other hasn’t turned up,’ said the man. ‘This is Billiam, who is taking on the middle one for the small consideration of five shillings.’
    ‘He’s put out his tongue at me,’ she screamed in shrill indignation.
    At this the big bear, whose adoration of Goldilocks was very obvious, closed with William, and Goldilocks’s mother screamed shrilly.
    The giant separated the two bears and Goldilocks came to the hut with an expression of patient suffering meant to represent intense physical weariness. She gave a start of joy at the sight of
the hut, which apparently she did not see till she had almost passed it. She entered. She gave a second start of joy at the sight of three porridge plates. She tasted the first two and consumed the
third. She wandered into the other room. She gave a third start of joy at the sight of three beds. She tried them all and went to sleep beautifully and realistically on the smallest. William was
lost in admiration.
    ‘Come on, bears,’ said the man in shirt-sleeves. ‘Bil-liam, walk between them. Don’t jump. Walk. In at the door. That’s right. Now, Billiam, look at your
plate, then shake your head at the big bear.’
    Trembling with joy, William obeyed. The big bear, in the privacy of the open mouth, put out his tongue at William with a hostile grimace. William returned

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