More William eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 196 pages of information about More William.

More William eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 196 pages of information about More William.

[Illustration:  WILLIAM LEANT BACK IN A SUPERIOR, BENEVOLENT MANNER AND WATCHED THE SMILE FREEZE UPON HER FACE AND HER LOOK OF ECSTASY CHANGE TO ONE OF FURY.]

“Oh, William,” said the little girl next door sadly, “they’re calling you.  Will you have to go?”

“Not me,” said William earnestly.  “I’m not going—­not till they fetch me.  Here! you begin.  I don’t want any.  I’ve had lots of things.  You eat it all.”

Her face radiant with anticipation, the little girl took up her spoon.

William leant back in a superior, benevolent manner and watched the smile freeze upon her face and her look of ecstasy change to one of fury.  With a horrible suspicion at his heart he seized the spoon she had dropped and took a mouthful himself.

He had brought the rice-mould by mistake!

CHAPTER III

WILLIAM’S BURGLAR

When William first saw him he was leaning against the wall of the White Lion, gazing at the passers-by with a moody smile upon his villainous-looking countenance.

It was evident to any careful observer that he had not confined his attentions to the exterior of the White Lion.

William, at whose heels trotted his beloved mongrel (rightly named Jumble), was passing him with a casual glance, when something attracted his attention.  He stopped and looked back, then, turning round, stood in front of the tall, untidy figure, gazing up at him with frank and unabashed curiosity.

“Who cut ’em off?” he said at last in an awed whisper.

The figure raised his hands and stroked the long hair down the side of his face.

“Now yer arskin’,” he said with a grin.

“Well, who did?” persisted William.

“That ’ud be tellin’,” answered his new friend, moving unsteadily from one foot to the other.  “See?”

“You got ’em cut off in the war,” said William firmly.

“I didn’t.  I bin in the wor orl right.  Stroike me pink, I bin in the wor and that’s the truth.  But I didn’t get ’em cut orf in the wor.  Well, I’ll stop kiddin’ yer.  I’ll tell yer strite.  I never ’ad none. Nar!

William stood on tiptoe to peer under the untidy hair at the small apertures that in his strange new friend took the place of ears.  Admiration shone in William’s eyes.

“Was you born without ’em?” he said enviously.

His friend nodded.

“Nar don’t yer go torkin’ about it,” he went on modestly, though seeming to bask in the sun of William’s evident awe and respect.  “I don’t want all folks knowin’ ’bout it.  See?  It kinder marks a man, this ’ere sort of thing.  See?  Makes ’im too easy to track, loike.  That’s why I grow me hair long.  See?  ’Ere, ’ave a drink?”

He put his head inside the window of the White Lion and roared out
“Bottle o’ lemonide fer the young gent.”

Copyrights
Project Gutenberg
More William from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.