Just William's New Year's Day by Richmal Crompton

Author:Richmal Crompton [Richmal Crompton]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9780330515320
Publisher: Macmillan Children’s Books

‘MONEY DON’T MATTER,’ SAID WILLIAM. ‘THINGS IS CHEAP TODAY. AWFUL CHEAP!’

He stopped, simply for lack of further expressions, and bowed with would-be gracefulness as she went through the doorway.

As she passed the window she was rewarded by a spreading effusive smile in a flushed face.

She stopped and kissed her hand.

William blinked with pure emotion.

He continued his smile long after its recipient had disappeared. Then absent-mindedly he crammed his mouth with a handful of Mixed Dew Drops and sat down behind the counter.

As he crunched the Mixed Dew Drops he indulged in a day dream in which he rescued the little girl in the white fur coat from robbers and pirates and a burning house. He was just leaping nimbly from the roof of the burning house, holding the little girl in the white fur coat in his arms, when he caught sight of two of his friends flattening their noses at the window. He rose from his seat and went to the door.

‘’Ullo, Ginger! ’Ullo, Henry!’ he said with an unsuccessful effort to appear void of self-consciousness.

They gazed at him in wonder.

‘I’ve gotta shop,’ he went on casually. ‘Come on in an’ look at it.’

They peeped round the doorway cautiously and, reassured by the sight of William obviously in sole possession, they entered, open-mouthed. They gazed at the boxes and bottles of sweets. Aladdin’s Cave was nothing to this.

‘Howd’ you get it, William?’ gasped Ginger.

‘Someone gave it me,’ said William. ‘I took one of them things to be p’lite an’ someone gave it me. Go on,’ he said kindly. ‘Jus’ help yourselves. Not at all. Jus’ help yourselves an’ don’t menshun it.’

They needed no second bidding. With the unerring instinct of childhood (not unsupported by experience) that at any minute their Eden might be invaded by the avenging angel in the shape of a grown-up, they made full use of their time. They went from box to box, putting handfuls of sweets and chocolates into their mouths. They said nothing, simply because speech was, under the circumstances, a physical impossibility. Showing a foresight for the future, worthy of the noble ant itself, so often held up as a model to childhood, they filled pockets in the intervals of cramming their mouths.

A close observer might have noticed that William now ate little. William himself had been conscious for some time of a curious and inexplicable feeling of coldness towards the tempting dainties around him. He was, however, loath to give in to the weakness, and every now and then he nonchalantly put into his mouth a Toasted Square or a Fruity Bit.

It happened that a loutish boy of about fourteen was passing the shop. At the sight of three small boys rapidly consuming the contents, he became interested.

‘What yer doin’ of?’ he said indignantly, standing in the doorway.

‘You get out of my shop,’ said William valiantly.

‘Yer shop?’ said the boy. ‘Yer bloomin’ well pinchin’ things out o’ someone else’s shop, I can see. ’Ere, gimme some of them.’

‘You get out!’ said William.

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