Now,of course,there are no hard winters,no frost,no snow,no waits,no snowmen,and no skating on the Pol.Then there were all those things.To-day was of a hard,glittering frost;the sun,like a round,red lacquer tray,fell heavily,slowly through a faint pale sky that was not strong enough to sustain it.The air had the cold,sweet twang of peppermints in the throat.Polchester was a painted town upon a blue screen,the Cathedral towers purple against the sky;the air was scented with burning leaves,and cries from the town rose up clear and hard,lingering and falling like notes of music.Somewhere they were playing football,and the shouting was distant and regular like the tramp of armed men."Three"struck the Cathedral clock,as though it were calling "Open Sesame."Other lesser clocks repeated the challenge cry through the town."Woppley--Woppley--Why!"sung the man who was selling skins down Orange Street.The sky,turning slowly from blue to gold,shone mysteriously through the glass of the street lamps,and the sun began to wrap itself in tints of purple and crocus and iris.
"Woppley--Woppley--Why!"screamed the skin-man suddenly appearing at the top of the street.
"Now 'urry,Master Jeremy,"said the Jampot,"or we shall never get 'ome this night,and I might have known you'd choose the longest walk possible.Come along,Miss Mary,now--none of that dawdling."Jeremy,in his H.M.S.Adventure's cap and rough blue navy coat,felt himself superior to the Jampot,so he only said,"Oh,don't bother,Nurse,"and then in the same breath,"I'll run you down the hill,Mary,"and before anyone could say a word there they were at the bottom of Orange Street,as though they had fallen into a well.The sun was gone,the golden horizon was gone--only the purple lights began to gather about their feet and climb slowly the high black houses.
Mary liked this,because she now had Jeremy to herself.She began hurriedly,so that she should lose no time:
"Shall I tell you a story,Jeremy?I've got a new one.Once upon a time there were three little boys,and they lived in a wood,and an old witch ate them,and the Princess who had heaps of jewellery and a white horse and a lovely gold dress came,and it was snowing and the witch--"This was always Mary's way.She loved to tell Jeremy interesting stories,and he did not mind because he did not listen and could meanwhile think his own thoughts.
His chief decision arrived at as he marched along was that he would keep the village to himself;no one else should put their fingers into it,arrange the orchard with the coloured trees,decide upon the names of the Noah family,settle the village street in its final order,ring the bell of the church,or milk the cows.He alone would do all these things.And,so considering,he seemed to himself very like God.God,he supposed,could pull Polchester about,root out a house here,another there,knock the Assembly Rooms down and send a thunderbolt on to the apple woman's umbrella.Well,then--so could he with his village.He walked swollen with pride.He arrived at the first Island of Circe,namely,the window of Mr.Thompson,the jeweller in Market Street,pressed his nose to the pane,and refused to listen when the Jampot suggested that he should move forward.
He could see the diamonds like drops of water in the sun,and the pearls like drops of milk,and the rubies like drops of blood,but it was not of diamonds,pearls or rubies that he was thinking--he thought only of his village.He would ring the church bell,and then all the Noah family should start out of the door,down the garden,up the village street.It did not matter if one of the younger Noahs should be lazy and wish to stay at home beneath the flowering trees of the orchard.She would not be allowed.He was as God.
He was as God.The butcher should go (if he was not stuck to his shop),and even some of his cows might go.He was as God.
He heard Mary's voice in his ear.
"And after that they all ate chocolates with white cream and red cream,and they sucked it off pins,and there were hard bits and soft bits,and the Princess (she was a frog now.You remember,don't you,Jeremy?The witch turned her)hotted the oven like cook has,with black doors,and hotted it and hotted it,but suddenly there was a noise--"And,on the other side,the Jampot's voice:"You naughty boy,stoppin''ere for everyone to see,just because it's your birthday,which I wish there wasn't no birthdays,nor there wouldn't be if I had my way."
Jeremy turned from Mr.Thompson's window,a scornful smile on his face:
"I'm bigger'n you,Nurse,"he said."If I said out loud,'I won't go,'I wouldn't go,and no one could make me.""Well,come along,then,"said Nurse.
"Don't be so stupid,Jerry,"said Helen calmly."If a policeman came and said you had to go home you'd have to go.""No I wouldn't,"said Jeremy.
"Then they'd put you in prison."
"They could."
"They'd hang you,perhaps."
"They could,"replied Jeremy.
Farther than this argument cannot go,so Helen shrugged her shoulders and said:"You are silly."And they all moved forward.
