Just William: William At War Part 17

'What sort of thing?' demanded Ginger.

'Some people are gettin' up Vict'ry b.a.l.l.s . . .' said Henry.

'We jolly well don't want a Vict'ry ball. Dancin' with rotten ole girls! We get enough of that at the dancin' cla.s.s. I never have seen what people see in it, dancin'.'

'They're gettin' up a pageant where my aunt lives,' said Douglas. 'She's goin' to be Queen Elizabeth.'

'I thouldn't mind bein' her,' said Violet Elizabeth graciously. 'It wath only 'cauth of mumpth I wathn't her before.'

'You won't be in it at all,' said William sternly. 'No one asked you to the meetin' anyway.'

'If Joan can come, why thouldn't I?' demanded Violet Elizabeth.

''Cause we asked Joan. She helps. You only mess everything up.'

Violet Elizabeth looked at Joan who sat, small and shy and earnest, on an upturned packing case in a corner of the old barn.

'Thee's got thoot on her nothe,' she remarked dispa.s.sionately.

Joan took out her handkerchief and rubbed off the infinitesimal speck.

'We had the chimney sweep this morning,' she explained.

'You leave her alone,' said William indignantly to Violet Elizabeth.

'I only thaid thee had thoot on her nothe,' said Violet Elizabeth with devastating sweetness. 'I thought thee'd like to know. I'd like to know if I had thoot on my nothe. Anyway' she smiled on them serenely 'you can't turn me out. If you try I'll thcream an' thcream an' thcream.'

William sighed, deciding for the hundredth time that girls complicated every situation into which one admitted them. Joan was a different matter. She lacked the ruthlessness and dominating personality of Violet Elizabeth. She was quiet and amenable and willing to help. She joined the Outlaws as a slave. Violet Elizabeth, despite the disarming camouflage of meekness that she could a.s.sume for her own ends, joined it as a tyrant.

'Well, we aren't havin' any girls in whatever we do for this Vict'ry show,' said William.

He spoke firmly, but there was something in the curve of Violet Elizabeth's cherubic lips and in the light of her wide blue eyes that made him feel a good deal less confident than he sounded.

'You can help if you want,' he added, 'but that's jolly well all.'

'That'th all we want to do, ithn't it, Joan?' said Violet Elizabeth.

'Yes,' agreed Joan earnestly.

'What do they do in pageants?' asked William.

'They sort of act things out of hist'ry,' said Henry.

'You'll have to have girlth if ith hithtory, William,' said Violet Elizabeth with quiet satisfaction. 'Hithtory'th full of them queenth and thingth.'

'They sort of act without talkin',' said Henry, ignoring her.

'How do people know what they're actin' if they don't talk?' said William.

'They've jus' gotter guess, I s'pose,' said Henry.

'I see,' said William thoughtfully. 'If a man comes on in a crown, wearin' a rose, it'd be Charles I in the Wars of the Roses, or somethin' like that.'

'Yes, somethin' like that,' agreed Henry doubtfully, 'but I don't think it was Charles I in the Wars of the Roses.'

'Well, Charles II, then,' said William impatiently. 'An' if someone comes on an' puts a coat over a puddle it'd be that man who put his coat down for Queen Elizabeth. The Black Prince, wasn't it?'

'Sir Walter Raleigh,' murmured Henry.

'Yes, I knew it was either him or the Black Prince,' said William.

'I thaid you'd have to have girlth,' said Violet Elizabeth with a radiant smile. 'I thaid tho.'

'Well, we're not goin' to,' said William. 'I bet I could do Queen Elizabeth all right.'

'I'm sure you could,' said Joan, but Violet Elizabeth burst into a peal of silvery laughter.

'I'd love to thee you,' she said. 'You'd look tho funny.'

'Anyway, we're not doin' that,' said William irritably. 'We're not goin' to copy anyone. We're goin' to think out somethin' of our own.'

'Sometimes they have someone readin' aloud in po'try what they're actin' while they're actin' it,' said Henry, reluctant to leave a subject on which he felt himself to be an authority.

'Well, we're not goin' to have anythin' out of hist'ry,' said William firmly. 'We get enough of that in school. All that fuss las' week jus' cause I said that ole Caxton invented the steam engine 'stead of Wat Tyler or whoever it was!' Henry opened his mouth to protest then closed it again as William continued: 'Anyway, what does it matter what they're called? It's jus' a name their mother happened to think of an' she might jus' as well have thought of somethin' else. I bet she'd have called him Wat Tyler, or whatever it was, if she'd thought of it. I've got an aunt that always calls me Robert an' Robert William an' no one tells her that she's a monument of c'lossal ignorance an' cra.s.s stupidity an' all the things ole Markie called me. What does it matter what people's names are, anyway?'

He paused for breath, and Ginger said mildly: 'Well, we aren't any nearer findin' what to do for this Vict'ry show.'

'No, but we can jolly well keep off history,' said William, in a voice that still held the aftermath of bitterness.

'If it's a Vict'ry show,' said Joan, 'let's have somethin' about Vict'ry.'

'That's a good idea,' said William, impressed.

'I wath juth going to thuggetht it,' said Violet Elizabeth serenely.

'We could have Britannia,' said Joan, 'riding in a sort of chariot. A wheelbarrow would do. Or that box on wheels you've got.'

'I'll be Britannia,' said Violet Elizabeth. 'My mother'th got a Britannia fanthy-dreth cothtume.'

'You jolly well won't,' said William. 'If we have girls in it at all, Joan's being Britannia.'

'Thee can't be,' said Violet Elizabeth. 'Thee hathn't got a Britannia fanthy-dreth cothtume.'

'You could lend her yours, couldn't you?'

'Yeth,' said Violet Elizabeth, still smiling serenely. 'But I won't . . .'

'Then you're a rotten mean ole girl.'

'And after Britannia we could have some British soldiers,' said Joan, hastily intervening before the quarrel could reach such proportions as to hold up progress indefinitely 'We could easily get some boys to be those. And then we could have Germany and captured German prisoners.'

'Who'd be them?' said Douglas doubtfully. 'I bet no one'd want to be them.'

'We could fix that up later,' said William. 'It's a jolly good idea, anyway.' He turned to Violet Elizabeth. 'Would you like to be Germany? It's a jolly good part.'

'What thould I wear?' said Violet Elizabeth. 'It dependth on what I'd wear.'

They considered the question.

'Swashtikas,' suggested Henry.

'No,' said Violet Elizabeth firmly. 'I don't like thwathtikath!'

'Sackcloth,' said Ginger.

'No,' said Violet Elizabeth, still more firmly. 'I don't like thackcloth.' Suddenly her small face beamed. 'Tell you what! I've got a fanthy dreth at home I could wear. Ith a fanthy dreth of a rothe. Ith got a thkirt of pink thilk petalth, all thtanding out, and pink thilk thtockingth and thoeth. And ith got a pink rothe-bud for a cap. A couthin of mine had it before the war and thee sent it to me 'cauth thee'd grown out of it and it would juth fit me now. I wouldn't mind being Germany if I could wear that.'

'Well, you can't,' said William shortly.

'But, William, ith a pretty dreth,' she a.s.sured him earnestly. 'You could thow a thwathika on if you like,' she conceded. 'Thomewhere where it wouldn't thow.'

'If you think-' began William portentously, but she interrupted him.

'And I muth ride in the chariot and I muth go on firtht in front of Britannia.'

She smiled at them radiantly, as if she had completely solved the problem.

'You can't do that if you're Germany,' said William.

'Why not?'

''Cause 'cause you've gotter be sorry for all the wrong you've done.'

'Well, I'm not,' said Violet Elizabeth with spirit, 'and I haven't done any wrong.'

'You started the war.'

'I didn't,' snapped Violet Elizabeth. 'I wath in bed with a billiouth attack the day the war thtarted. Athk the doctor if you don't believe me.'

'You're bats,' said William. 'It's no good talking to you. An' we jolly well don't want you in the show anyway.'

'Then you can't have the Britannia cothtume.'

'We don't want it,' said William untruthfully.

'I don't mind Violet Elizabeth being Britannia,' said Joan, anxious that the success of the pageant should not be jeopardised by jealousy among the cast.

'Well, we do,' said William. He turned to Violet Elizabeth. 'You're not going to be in it, so you can clear off. We've got a lot of things to discuss.'

'I'll thtay and lithen to you dithcuthing them,' said Violet Elizabeth, with the air of one granting a favour.

'People with manners,' said William crushingly, 'don't stay where they're not wanted.'

'I'm not a perthon with mannerth,' said Violet Elizabeth, uncrushed, 'and I like thtaying where I'm not wanted. It'th gen'rally more interethting than where I am wanted.'

'We'll carry on as if she wasn't there,' said William to the others. 'She's just not worth taking any notice of. I'm glad she's not going to be in it. She's always more bother than she's worth.'

He could not help glancing at Violet Elizabeth as he spoke, hoping to see her look conscience-stricken or at least abashed, but she met his glance with a smile of shattering sweetness.

'Well, now,' he went on hastily. 'We've got a lot to arrange. Joan'll be Britannia, and we can easily fix up a costume for her with flags and things an' she'll come on in this cart, drawn by two of us, an' we'll write some po'try for someone to say when she comes on. Who can write po'try?' He looked round the circle, carefully avoiding Violet Elizabeth's eye.

'I can thay Cargoeth,' said Violet Elizabeth proudly.

They ignored her.

'You can, can't you, Joan?' said William.

'I can try,' said Joan doubtfully. 'I once wrote a poem about a mouse.'

'Thay it,' challenged Violet Elizabeth.

Again they ignored her.

'Then we'll get some boys to be soldiers,' said William. 'Marchin' an' drillin' and so on . . .'

'I don't thee what mithe have got to do with a Victory pageant,' said Violet Elizabeth.

'n.o.body asked you,' said William. 'I wish you'd shut up.'

'All right,' said Violet Elizabeth, with unexpected meekness. 'I only thought it was thilly thaying po'try about mithe at a Victory pageant and it ith.'

'Well, let's get on with things,' said William. There was no doubt that Violet Elizabeth's interruptions had a disintegrating effect on the discussion. It was difficult to pick up the threads again. 'After these soldiers, we'll have Germany. I bet we'll get a jolly good Germany an' we'll get a jolly good dress for whoever it is, too, with sackcloth and swastikas and things.'

'It'th thuth a pretty pink thilk dreth, William,' said Violet Elizabeth wistfully. 'It'th got little pearl beadth thewn on for dew dropth. I don't know why you won't let me wear it.'

'Well, we won't,' said William testily. 'We only want you to shut up.' He turned to the others. 'Then, after Germany, we'll have the captured German prisoners . . . I say! Couldn't we get Hubert Lane and his gang to be the captured German prisoners?'

The Outlaws thought of the Hubert Laneites, between whom and the Outlaws a feud had existed as long as any of them could remember.

'They'd make jolly good German prisoners,' agreed Ginger, 'but I bet they wouldn't do it.'

'Couldn't we capture them?'

'If we did, we couldn't keep them till the pageant.'

'Let's ask them to do it. Let's make out that it's the most important part. They're jolly stupid.'

'Yes, but they're not quite as stupid as that.'