The Railway Children by E. Nesbit (interesting books to read for teens .TXT) 📕

just time for Peter and Bobbie and Phyllis to rush into the washhouse, pushing the young and open-mouthed Perks children in front of them. There was not time to shut the door, so that, without at all meaning it, they had to listen to what went on in the kitchen. The washhouse was a tight fit for the Perks children and the Three Chimneys children, as well as all the washhouse’s proper furniture, including the mangle and the copper.

“Hullo, old woman!” they heard Mr. Perks’s voice say; “here’s a pretty set-out!”

“It’s your birthday tea, Bert,” said Mrs. Perks, “and here’s a ounce of your extry particular. I got it o’ Saturday along o’ your happening to remember it was your birthday today.”

“Good old girl!” said Mr. Perks, and there was a sound of a kiss.

“But what’s that pram doing here? And what’s all these bundles? And where did you get the sweetstuff, and⁠—”

The children did not hear what Mrs. Perks replied, because just then Bobbie gave a start, put her hand in her pocket, and all her body grew stiff with horror.

“Oh!” she whispered to the others, “whatever shall we do? I forgot to put the labels on any of the things! He won’t know what’s from who. He’ll think it’s all us, and that we’re trying to be grand or charitable or something horrid.”

“Hush!” said Peter.

And then they heard the voice of Mr. Perks, loud and rather angry.

“I don’t care,” he said; “I won’t stand it, and so I tell you straight.”

“But,” said Mrs. Perks, “it’s them children you make such a fuss about⁠—the children from the Three Chimneys.”

“I don’t care,” said Perks, firmly, “not if it was a angel from Heaven. We’ve got on all right all these years and no favours asked. I’m not going to begin these sort of charity goings-on at my time of life, so don’t you think it, Nell.”

“Oh, hush!” said poor Mrs. Perks; “Bert, shut your silly tongue, for goodness’ sake. The all three of ’ems in the washhouse a-listening to every word you speaks.”

“Then I’ll give them something to listen to,” said the angry Perks; “I’ve spoke my mind to them afore now, and I’ll do it again,” he added, and he took two strides to the washhouse door, and flung it wide open⁠—as wide, that is, as it would go, with the tightly packed children behind it.

“Come out,” said Perks, “come out and tell me what you mean by it. ’Ave I ever complained to you of being short, as you comes this charity lay over me?”

“Oh!” said Phyllis, “I thought you’d be so pleased; I’ll never try to be kind to anyone else as long as I live. No, I won’t, not never.”

She burst into tears.

“We didn’t mean any harm,” said Peter.

“It ain’t what you means so much as what you does,” said Perks.

“Oh, don’t!” cried Bobbie, trying hard to be braver than Phyllis, and to find more words than Peter had done for explaining in. “We thought you’d love it. We always have things on our birthdays.”

“Oh, yes,” said Perks, “your own relations; that’s different.”

“Oh, no,” Bobbie answered. “Not our own relations. All the servants always gave us things at home, and us to them when it was their birthdays. And when it was mine, and Mother gave me the brooch like a buttercup, Mrs. Viney gave me two lovely glass pots, and nobody thought she was coming the charity lay over us.”

“If it had been glass pots here,” said Perks, “I wouldn’t ha’ said so much. It’s there being all this heaps and heaps of things I can’t stand. No⁠—nor won’t, neither.”

“But they’re not all from us⁠—” said Peter, “only we forgot to put the labels on. They’re from all sorts of people in the village.”

“Who put ’em up to it, I’d like to know?” asked Perks.

“Why, we did,” sniffed Phyllis.

Perks sat down heavily in the elbow-chair and looked at them with what Bobbie afterwards described as withering glances of gloomy despair.

“So you’ve been round telling the neighbours we can’t make both ends meet? Well, now you’ve disgraced us as deep as you can in the neighbourhood, you can just take the whole bag of tricks back w’ere it come from. Very much obliged, I’m sure. I don’t doubt but what you meant it kind, but I’d rather not be acquainted with you any longer if it’s all the same to you.” He deliberately turned the chair round so that his back was turned to the children. The legs of the chair grated on the brick floor, and that was the only sound that broke the silence.

Then suddenly Bobbie spoke.

“Look here,” she said, “this is most awful.”

“That’s what I says,” said Perks, not turning round.

“Look here,” said Bobbie, desperately, “we’ll go if you like⁠—and you needn’t be friends with us any more if you don’t want, but⁠—”

“We shall always be friends with you, however nasty you are to us,” sniffed Phyllis, wildly.

“Be quiet,” said Peter, in a fierce aside.

“But before we go,” Bobbie went on desperately, “do let us show you the labels we wrote to put on the things.”

“I don’t want to see no labels,” said Perks, “except proper luggage ones in my own walk of life. Do you think I’ve kept respectable and outer debt on what I gets, and her having to take in washing, to be give away for a laughingstock to all the neighbours?”

“Laughing?” said Peter; “you don’t know.”

“You’re a very hasty gentleman,” whined Phyllis; “you know you were wrong once before, about us not telling you the secret about the Russian. Do let Bobbie tell you about the labels!”

“Well. Go ahead!” said Perks, grudgingly.

“Well, then,” said Bobbie, fumbling miserably, yet not without hope, in her tightly stuffed pocket, “we wrote down all the things everybody said when they gave us the things, with the people’s names, because Mother said we ought to be careful⁠—because⁠—but I wrote down what she said⁠—and you’ll see.”

But Bobbie could not read the labels just at once. She had to swallow once or twice before