five children and it-第21部分

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which　the　keeper　had　brought　her　mushrooms　that　morning；　and　had

tied　up　Robert's　head　with　it　so　that　he　could　be　the　wounded　hero

who　had　saved　the　bandit　captain's　life　the　day　before；　he　cheered

up　wonderfully。　　All　were　soon　armed。　　Bows　and　arrows　slung　on　the

back　look　well；　and　umbrellas　and　cricket　stumps　stuck　through　the

belt　give　a　fine　impression　of　the　wearer's　being　armed　to　the

teeth。　　The　white　cotton　hats　that　men　wear　in　the　country　nowadays

have　a　very　brigandish　effect　when　a　few　turkey's　feathers　are

stuck　in　them。　　The　Lamb's　mail…cart　was　covered　with　a

red…and…blue　checked　tablecloth；　and　made　an　admirable

baggage…wagon。　　The　Lamb　asleep　inside　it　was　not　at　all　in　the

way。　　So　the　banditti　set　out　along　the　road　that　led　to　the

sand…pit。



'We　ought　to　be　near　the　Sammyadd；'　said　Cyril；　'in　case　we　think

of　anything　suddenly。'



It　is　all　very　well　to　make　up　your　minds　to　play　bandits　…　or

chess；　or　ping…pong；　or　any　other　agreeable　game　…　but　it　is　not

easy　to　do　it　with　spirit　when　all　the　wonderful　wishes　you　can

think　of；　or　can't　think　of；　are　waiting　for　you　round　the　corner。　

The　game　was　dragging　a　little；　and　some　of　the　bandits　were

beginning　to　feel　that　the　others　were　disagreeable　things；　and

were　saying　so　candidly；　when　the　baker's　boy　came　along　the　road

with　loaves　in　a　basket。　　The　opportunity　was　not　one　to　be　lost。



'Stand　and　deliver！'　cried　Cyril。



'Your　money　or　your　life！'　said　Robert。



And　they　stood　on　each　side　of　the　baker's　boy。　　Unfortunately；　he

did　not　seem　to　enter　into　the　spirit　of　the　thing　at　all。　　He　was

a　baker's　boy　of　an　unusually　large　size。　　He　merely　said：



'Chuck　it　now；　d'ye　hear！'　and　pushed　the　bandits　aside　most

disrespectfully。



Then　Robert　lassoed　him　with　jane's　skipping…rope；　and　instead　of

going　round　his　shoulders；　as　Robert　intended；　it　went　round　his

feet　and　tripped　him　up。　　The　basket　was　upset；　the　beautiful　new

loaves　went　bumping　and　bouncing　all　over　the　dusty　chalky　road。　

The　girls　ran　to　pick　them　up；　and　all　in　a　moment　Robert　and　the

baker's　boy　were　fighting　it　out；　man　to　man；　with　Cyril　to　see

fair　play；　and　the　skipping…rope　twisting　round　their　legs　like　an

interested　snake　that　wished　to　be　a　peacemaker。　　It　did　not

succeed；　indeed　the　way　the　boxwood　handles　sprang　up　and　hit　the

fighters　on　the　shins　and　ankles　was　not　at　all　peace…making。　　I

know　this　is　the　second　fight　…　or　contest　…　in　this　chapter；　but

I　can't　help　it。　　It　was　that　sort　of　day。　　You　know　yourself　there

are　days　when　rows　seem　to　keep　on　happening；　quite　without　your

meaning　them　to。　　If　I　were　a　writer　of　tales　of　adventure　such　as

those　which　used　to　appear　in　The　Boys　of　England　when　I　was　young；

of　course　I　should　be　able　to　describe　the　fight；　but　I　cannot　do

it。　　I　never　can　see　what　happens　during　a　fight；　even　when　it　is

only　dogs。　　Also；　if　I　had　been　one　of　these　Boys　of　England

writers；　Robert　would　have　got　the　best　of　it。　　But　I　am　like

George　Washington　…　I　cannot　tell　a　lie；　even　about　a　cherry…tree；

much　less　about　a　fight；　and　I　cannot　conceal　from　you　that　Robert

was　badly　beaten；　for　the　second　time　that　day。　　The　baker's　boy

blacked　his　other　eye；　and；　being　ignorant　of　the　first　rules　of

fair　play　and　gentlemanly　behaviour；　he　also　pulled　Robert's　hair；

and　kicked　him　on　the　knee。　　Robert　always　used　to　say　he　could

have　licked　the　butcher　if　it　hadn't　been　for　the　girls。　　But　I　am

not　sure。　　Anyway；　what　happened　was　this；　and　very　painful　it　was

to　self…respecting　boys。



Cyril　was　just　tearing　off　his　coat　so　as　to　help　his　brother　in

proper　style；　when　Jane　threw　her　arms　round　his　legs　and　began　to

cry　and　ask　him　not　to　go　and　be　beaten　too。　　That　'too'　was　very

nice　for　Robert；　as　you　can　imagine　…　but　it　was　nothing　to　what　he

felt　when　Anthea　rushed　in　between　him　and　the　baker's　boy；　and

caught　that　unfair　and　degraded　fighter　round　the　waist；　imploring

him　not　to　fight　any　more。



'Oh；　don't　hurt　my　brother　any　more！'　she　said　in　floods　of　tears。　

'He　didn't　mean　it　…　it's　only　play。　　And　I'm　sure　he's　very

sorry。'



You　see　how　unfair　this　was　to　Robert。　　Because；　if　the　baker's　boy

had　had　any　right　and　chivalrous　instincts；　and　had　yielded　to

Anthea's　pleading　and　accepted　her　despicable　apology；　Robert　could

not；　in　honour；　have　done　anything　to　him　at　a　future　time。　　But

Robert's　fears；　if　he　had　any；　were　soon　dispelled。　　Chivalry　was

a　stranger　to　the　breast　of　the　baker's　boy。　　He　pushed　Anthea　away

very　roughly；　and　he　chased　Robert　with　kicks　and　unpleasant

conversation　right　down　the　road　to　the　sand…pit；　and　there；　with

one　last　kick；　he　landed　him　in　a　heap　of　sand。



'I'D　larn　you；　you　young　varmint！'　he　said；　and　went　off　to　pick　up

his　loaves　and　go　about　his　business。　　Cyril；　impeded　by　Jane；

could　do　nothing　without　hurting　her；　for　she　clung　round　his　legs

with　the　strength　of　despair。　　The　baker's　boy　went　off　red　and

damp　about　the　face；　abusive　to　the　last；　he　called　them　a　pack　of

silly　idiots；　and　disappeared　round　the　corner。　　Then　jane's　grasp

loosened。　　Cyril　turned　away　in　silent　dignity　to　follow　Robert；

and　the　girls　followed　him；　weeping　without　restraint。



It　was　not　a　happy　party　that　flung　itself　down　in　the　sand　beside

the　sobbing　Robert。　　For　Robert　was　sobbing　…　mostly　with　rage。　

Though　of　course　I　know　that　a　really　heroic　boy　is　always　dry…eyed

after　a　fight。　　But　then　he　always　wins；　which　had　not　been　the

case　with　Robert。



Cyril　was　angry　with　Jane；　Robert　was　furious　with　Anthea；　the

girls　were　miserable；　and　not　one　of　the　four　was　pleased　with　the

baker's　boy。　　There　was；　as　French　writers　say；　'a　silence　full　of

emotion'。



Then　Robert　dug　his　toes　and　his　hands　into　the　sand　and　wriggled

in　his　rage。　　'He'd　better　wait　till　I'm　grown　up　…　the　cowardly

brute！　　Beast！　…　I　hate　him！　　But　I'll　pay　him　out。　　just　because

he's　bigger　than　me。'



'You　began；'　said　Jane　incautiously。



'I　know　I　did；　silly　…　but　I　was　only　rotting　…　and　he　kicked　me　…

look　here　…'



Robert　tore　down　a　stocking　and　showed　a　purple　bruise　touched　up

with　red。　　'I　only　wish　I　was　bigger　than　him；　that's　all。'



He　dug　his　fingers　in　the　sand；　and　sprang　up；　for　his　hand　had

touched　something　furry。　　It　was　the　Psammead；　of　course　…　'On　the

look…out　to　make　sillies　of　them　as　usual；'　as　Cyril　remarked

later。　　And　of　course　the　next　moment　Robert's　wish　was　granted；

and　he　was　bigger　than　the　baker's　boy。　　Oh；　but　much；　much　bigger。　

He　was　bigger　than　the　big　policeman　who　used　to　be　at　the　crossing

at　the　Mansion　House　years　ago　…　the　one　who　was　so　kind　in　helping

old　ladies　over　the　crossing　…　and　he　was　the　biggest　man　I　have

ever　seen；　as　well　as　the　kindest。　　No　one　had　a　foot…rule　in　its

pocket；　so　Robert　could　not　be　measured　…　but　he　was　taller　than

your　father　would　be　if　he　stood　on　your　mother's　head；　which　I　am

sure　he　would　never　be　unkind　enough　to　do。　　He　must　have　been　ten

or　eleven　feet　high；　and　as　broad　as　a　boy　of　that　height　ought　to

be。　　his　Norfolk　suit　had　fortunately　grown　too；　and　now　he　stood

up　in　it　…　with　one　of　his　enormous　stockings　turned　down　to　show

the　gigantic　bruise　on　his　vast　leg。　　Immense　tears　of　fury　still

stood　on　his　flushed　giant　face。　　He　looked　so　surprised；　and　he

was　so　large　to　be　wearing　an　Eton　collar；　that　the　others　could

not　help　laughing。



'The　Sammyadd's　done　us　again；'　said　Cyril。



'Not　us　…　ME；'　said　Robert。　　'If　you'd　got　any　decent　feeling　you'd

try　to　make　it　make　you　the　same　size。　　You've　no　idea　how　silly　it

feels；'　he　added　thoughtlessly。



'And　I　don't　want　to；　I　can　jolly　well　see　how　silly　it　looks；'

Cyril　was　beginning；　but　Anthea　said：



'Oh；　DON'T！　　I　don't　know　what's　the　matter　with　you　boys　to…day。　

Look　here；　Squirrel；　let's　play　fair。　　It　is　hateful　for　poor　old

Bobs；　all　alone　up　there。　　Let's　ask　the　Sammyadd　for　another　wish；

and；　if　it　will；　I　do　really　think　we　ought　to　be　made　the　same

size。'



The　others　agreed；　but　not　gaily；　but　when　they　found　the　Psammead；

it　wouldn't。



'Not　I；'　it　said　crossly；　rubbing　its　face　with　its　feet。　　He's　a

rude　violent　boy；　and　it'll　do　him　good　to　be　the　wrong　size　for　a

bit。　　What　did　he　want　to　come　digging　me　out　with　his　nasty　wet

hands　for？　　He　nearly　touched　me！　　He's　a　perfect　savage。　　A　boy　of

the　Stone　Age　would　have　had　more　sense。'



Robert's　hands　had　indeed　been　wet　…　with　tears。



'Go　away　and　leave　me　in　peace；　do；'　the　Psammead　went　on。　　'I

can't　think　why　you　don't　wish　for　something　sensible　…　something

to　eat　or　drink；　or　good　manners；　or　good　tempers。　　Go　along　with

you；　do！'



It　almost　snarled　as　it　shook　its　whiskers；　and　turned　a　sulky

brown　back　on　them。　　The　most　hopeful　felt　that　further　parley　was

vain。　　They　turned　again　to　the　colossal　Robert。



'Whatever　shall　we　do？'　they　said；　and　they　all　said　it。



'First；'　said　Robert　grimly；　'I'm　going　to　reason　with　that　baker's

boy。　　I　shall　catch　him　at　the　end　of　the　road。'



'Don't　hit　a　chap　littler　than　yourself；　old　man；'　said　Cyril。



'Do　I　look　like　hitting　him？'　said　Robert　scornfully。　　'Why；　I

should　KILL　him。　　But　I'll　give　him　something　to　remember。　　Wait

till　I　pull　up　my　stocking。'　　He　pulled　up　his　stocking；　which　was

as　large　as　a　small　bolster…case；　and　strode　off。　　His　strides　were

six　or　seven　feet　long；　so　that　it　was　quite　easy　for　him　to　be　at

the　bottom　of　the　hill；　ready　to　meet　the　baker's　boy　when　he　came

down　swinging　the　empty　basket　to　meet　his　master's　cart；　which　had

been　leaving　bread　at　the　cottages　along　the　road。



Robert　crouched　behind　a　haystack　in　the　farmyard；　that　is　at　the

corner；　and　when　he　heard　the　boy　come　whistling　along；　he　jumped

out　at　him　and　caught　him　by　the　collar。



'Now；'　he　said；　and　his　voice　was　about　four　times　its