Jennings and Darbishire by Anthony Buckeridge

Author:Anthony Buckeridge [Buckeridge, Anthony]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Children's books, Humour
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

“Yes, it is rather lovely, isn’t it!” said Darbishire with deep appreciation. “You know, Jen, I think I’ve heard that poem before, somewhere.”

“I should jolly well think you have,” cried Jennings. “The next verse goes on: ‘O well for the fisherman’s boy.’ ”

Darbishire had placed it by this time. “That’s right! Of course! It’s Venables’ famous prize poem.”

“It jolly well isn’t! It’s Tennyson’s. It’s in his book, so that proves it!” His voice rose excitedly. “You see what this means, Darbi? We’ve been made the victims of a brilliant forgery. Venables never wrote this poem—he stole it from Lord Alfred Tennyson!”

Darbishire’s expression was thoughtful. “I think it’s the other way about,” he observed.

“What! You mean Lord Alfred pinched it from Venables?”

“No, I mean you’ve got the name the wrong way round. You should say Alfred, Lord—not Lord Alfred. My father says that if a chap inherits a title…”

Jennings turned on his friend impatiently. “Don’t quibble, Darbishire! We’ve been swizzled! We’ve got proof here of the dirty works of Venables in the complete works of Tennyson. Gosh, what a mouldy cad Venables is, pinching Alfred Lord’s poem like that. Why, it’s enough to make him turn in his grave.”

They replaced the book tidily and hurried off to catch the bus. Jennings was smouldering with indignation. It was as though the mud he had wiped from the second-hand volume now besmirched the fair name of Venables. Let him talk his way out of that, if he could!

The only consolation was that as the winning poem was now disqualified, the editors would not have to present a prize after all: which was just as well, as they had no prize to present.

“What a ghastly bish it all is,” lamented Darbishire, as they stood by the bus stop. “And it was such a lovely poem too.” Dreamily he recited:

“ ‘And I would that my tongue could utter

The thoughts that arise in me.’ ”

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