Elizabeth Mansfield by Poor Caroline

Author:Poor Caroline
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2012-10-27T07:12:07+00:00

TWENTY

Rain fell steadily for three days after Letty’s departure. People on the streets remarked that this was the most dreadful spring in memory. It certainly was dreadful for the Duckett children, for they were forced to remain indoors; the garden behind their house, where they usually played, was as soggy as marshland. Nevertheless, on the afternoon of the third day of rain, when the morning’s downpour had subsided to a mild drizzle, Caro succumbed to Jackie’s persistent pressure and let him go outside, though not before making certain that his head was covered with a wide-brimmed hat and his feet protected by a pair of sturdy galoe-shoes.

In the wet garden, near its overflowing pond, Jackie discovered a little frog. Since it was a delicate creature, and only three or four inches long, it could not jump far enough to escape capture. Jackie pounced on it with glee. He cupped it in his hand and studied with boyish interest its mottled green back and pale underside. But soon that interest waned, and he wondered what naughty use he could make of the creature.

The answer was not long in coming. He promptly hid the frog in the pocket of his trousers and came stealing up the stairs to the schoolroom. Hiding behind the doorjamb, he peered inside. Miss Whitlow was busy in the far comer, showing little Peter how to buckle his shoe. The baby was curled up on the window seat, napping. But his sister Florrie was just where he hoped she’d be. Jackie smiled wickedly. She was conveniently seated where he could get at her—at the worktable bent over a slate, struggling to copy a row of capital letters.

Jackie remained in the hallway until he’d removed his outer garments and heavy shoes. Then, with the frog in his hand, he stole into the room on tiptoe and crept up behind her. With two swift movements, he pulled back the neck of her dress and dropped the frog down her back.

Florrie’s bloodcurdling screams reverberated through the entire house like a shrill alarm bell. Even the cook came running up from the belowground kitchen to discover what had happened. The first to arrive at the schoolroom doorway was Mrs. Duckett herself, her eyes popping and her breast heaving. Crowding behind her were the upstairs maids, Rudd, the butler, all four footmen, the cook, and even the girl from the scullery.

It was a mad, noisy, ludicrous scene that met their eyes. The baby, having been awakened so abruptly from her nap, was bawling in lusty, four-year-old panic; Florrie was jumping up and down, flailing her arms and shrieking like a banshee; the governess, with Peter clinging tightly to her leg, was vainly trying to calm Florrie’s hysterics while attempting at the same time to reach down into the child’s dress to recapture the tiny frog that was taking frightened little leaps deeper and deeper down her back; and Jackie was rolling on the floor, convulsed with guffaws, reveling in glee at the turmoil he’d caused.

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