William The Outlaw by Richmal Crompton Read Free Book Online

invisible. Maria stood in the middle of the room, her head drooping in an utterly deceptive attitude of
patient meekness. All around was wreckage. The visitors stood and gazed at the scene open-mouthed. Tacitly they abandoned their intention of knocking at the front door and being admitted as
callers. Led by the Vicar’s wife, they entered by the French windows.
    ‘A donkey !’ said Mrs Hopkins, Treasurer of the Anti-vivisection Society (that is to say, she collected their sixpences and bought the cakes for tea). ‘I thought they
used monkeys or rabbits.’
    ‘They use different animals for different experiments,’ said the Vicar’s wife with an air of deep knowledge. ‘I expect that a donkey is the most suitable animal for some
experiments.’
    ‘How terrible !’ said Mrs Gerald Fitzgerald, covering her face with her hands. ‘How truly terrible . . . Poor, patient, suffering, dumb beast.’
    Maria laid back her ears and rolled her wicked eyes at them.
    Mrs Hopkins and the Vicar’s wife began to wander about the room.
    They stopped simultaneously before the row of bottled frogs.
    ‘Poor creatures!’ said Mrs Hopkins unsteadily. ‘Poor, patient, suffering creatures – once so beautiful and lovable and free.’
    (It was only the week before that Mrs Hopkins had screamed for help on meeting a frog in her larder.)
    Mrs Gerald Fitzgerald had by this time discovered the skeleton. She adjusted her glasses and looked slowly and closely up and down it several times. Then she pronounced in a sepulchral whisper:
‘Human remains!’
    The Outlaws held their breath in their retreat, but a resonant ‘Hee-haw!’ from Maria drew the members of the local Anti-vivisection Society from any further exploring.
    ‘The patient creature,’ said the Vicar’s wife brokenly, ‘seems to be asking for our help.’
    Maria assumed again her attitude of deceptive meekness.
    ‘We certainly must do something,’ said Mrs Gerald Fitzgerald, ‘we can’t leave our dear dumb friend to torture. Look at the signs of struggle all around us. Look at
its air of suffering. The foul work has evidently already begun. Let’s – let’s take it away with us.’
    ‘On the other hand,’ said the Vicar’s wife slowly, ‘there are the laws of private property to be considered. Mr Simpkins doubtless purchased this creature and the law
will hold it to belong to him.’
    ‘We can buy it from him then,’ said Mrs Gerald Fitzgerald brightly. ‘That would be a noble work indeed. How much money have we in hand, Mrs Hopkins?’
    ‘Only threepence-halfpenny,’ said Mrs Hopkins gloomily, ‘we’ve been having iced cakes lately, you know. They’re more expensive.’
    ‘They cost more than that,’ said the Vicar’s wife, ‘donkeys, I mean. But,’ with a flash of inspiration, ‘we can get up a bazaar for it or a concert for
it.’
    Their spirits rose at the prospect.
    ‘Yes,’ said Mrs Hopkins. ‘Why, it’s nearly a month since we had a bazaar. And such a good cause. Rescuing the poor dumb suffering creature from the hands of the
torturer – How sad it looks and yet grateful as though it understood all that we were going to do for it.’
    Maria rolled her eyes again and drooped her head still further.
    ‘I’m going to take it straight home,’ said the Vicar’s wife, ‘and give it a good meal and nurse it back to health and strength. I’ll go to the police
station and tell them that I have taken it and why. I’ll just fix up something to lead it home by.’
    She took down a picture and divested it of its picture cord, which she then tied round the neck of the still meekly unprotesting Maria. The others gazed at her in silent admiration. There was
really no one like the Vicar’s wife in a crisis.
    Then, with the air of a general who has now marshalled her forces, she led out Maria, followed by her faithful band. The Outlaws, weakly wondering what was going to happen, crept out of their
hiding place and followed at a