In the Park;
WENDY and Joan were well into the town by now, and the pavements were thronged with hurrying people. Somehow it did not seem possible to talk to any of them, as they all seemed in such a hurry. They walked on for some time, stopping to look in shop windows, but after a while they grew tired of this.
“I wonder if it’s dinner time yet?” suggested Joan.
Wendy looked at her watch.
“Why, it’s nearly two o’clock!” she exclaimed. “No wonder I’m feeling empty. Let’s go somewhere and eat our dinner, shall we?”
“I can’t understand how we didn’t think of that before,” said Joan in wonderment. “I always have my dinner at twelve!”
“Well, we’ve had lots of snacks,” said Wendy, with a laugh. “Cake and milk and apples! That’s why we didn’t think of looking at the time before, I expect.”
“Well, where shall we go?” asked. Joan, who was terribly hungry now she thought of it.
“Let’s find a park,” said Wendy. “Towns always have parks.”
“But how do you find them?” asked Joan crossly. “We can’t just walk about forever and ever, looking for one. We might never find it, and go on walking till night!”
“Let’s ask a policeman,” said Wendy. “They always know everything.”
“But where” began Joan, but Wendy interrupted her.
“There’s one, over there, holding up the traffic. We’ll wait till he isn’t so busy, and then ask him.”
They walked up the pavement and came opposite the policeman, who was directing the traffic at busy cross-roads. They waited until he held up the stream of traffic that separated them from him, and then ran across in front of the waiting cars and buses and stopped beside him.
“Go on — right across!” said the policeman. “It’s all safe. Go on.”
“But we want to ask you something,” said Wendy.
“Ah, well, I’ll release this lot first,” said the policeman, and they stood very close to his long blue legs while he turned and waved on the cars that were standing still and put up his hands to hold up those coming in the other direction.
“Now, what is it?” he asked, when everything was going on nicely.
“Please can you tell us where there’s a park where we can eat our dinner?” asked Wendy. “We’ve got it with us.”
“Yes, there’s a nice park down the High Street, second turning to the left and third on the right. The gates are in St. Martin’s Road. Think you can remember that?”
“Second turning to the left down the High Street, and second on the right,” said Wendy.
“No, third on the right: St. Martin’s Road. Look out for that. Now hold on a minute, and I’ll get you across the road and on to the right pavement,” said the policeman.
Once more he switched the traffic over, and, when it was flowing evenly, he took the two little girls by the hand, and with Pluto marching sedately behind, led them across the road. All the traffic went on just as if he were there, for the drivers could see what he was doing and knew that he would soon be back at his post again. When he had put them on to the right pavement, he repeated his instruction.
“Down this street here — this is the High Street. And second turning on the left and third on the right. Do you know which is your left hand?” he asked.
“Of course!” said both girls indignantly, holding up the proper hands.
“Quite right. Well, it’s a nice park. So long!” said the policeman, and he strode back to his post.
“Thank you so much!” Wendy and Joan called after him, and then they set off down the High Street.
They took the second turning on the left, and then the third on the right, and, sure enough, this was St. Martin’s Road.
“I can see the park gates, right down there,” cried Joan, pointing, and they began to run.
It was a lovely park, with tidy beds, full of flowers, near the gates, but lovely grass and big trees over all the rest of it. There was a lake, with some ducks on it, and lots of children playing about with boats, too.
“Let’s sit under the trees and eat our dinner, and then perhaps we could paddle in the lake,” said Joan. “Lots of children are doing it.”
“All right,” said Wendy. “But dinner first — I’m starving!”
They sat down in a quiet spot where there weren’t any other people and began to unwrap their parcels. Among them was a bone, all neatly wrapped up and labelled “Pluto.”
“We ought to have brought some water for Pluto,” said Wendy. “However could I have forgotten that? But then, I forgot Pluto himself! Mummy must have guessed he’d come, too, though, anyway.”
“He can drink the lake,” said Joan.
“I hope he doesn’t drink it all,” giggled Wendy. “Fancy if all the boats found themselves sitting on the mud because Pluto had drunk all the water!”
“Fathead!” said Joan. “He couldn’t drink all that. Pass the sandwiches, please.”
“Are you going to say Grace?” asked Wendy, as she passed them over. “We always do at home.”
“So do we,” said Joan, “but then that’s sitting up to a table in a room. Do we have to say it out here?”
“Well, it’s only saying thank you, isn’t it?” said Wendy. “Does it make any difference if we’re outside or inside, if we think we ought to say thank you? I’d much rather say thank you for all these lovely pies and things than for semolina pudding; but I have to say it at home whether there’s semolina pudding or not, and God must know that I don’t like semolina pudding.”
“Oh, but semolina pudding’s lovely!” cried Joan. “All yellow and creamy under the skin!”
“I hate the skin,” said Wendy firmly. “But I still have to eat it, and I still have to say thank you.”
“Well, it’s better than starving,” said Joan. She eyed all the good food in front of her. “Yes, I suppose we ought to say Grace,” she said. “But everyone will stare.”
“We can say it quickly. I don’t think anyone’s looking at us,” said Wendy. “What Grace do you say?”
“Well, when I was very little I used just to say ‘Thank God for my good dinner’, afterward. But now I say ‘For what we are about to receive’ — or ‘For what we have received’ may the Lord make us truly thankful’. He doesn’t always — if it’s semolina! — but I’ve done my best. Mummy always says that one, and I just say ‘Amen’.”
“My mummy says rather a difficult one, about blessing the gifts and making us strong to serve Him; but I say one that goes: Thank You for the food we eat, Thank You for the flowers so sweet, Thank You for the birds that sing, Thank you, God, for everything.”
“I like that,” said Joan. “You say that one, and I’ll say Amen.”
And so they did. Then they tucked in to the good food, and thoroughly enjoyed it.
They had eaten as much as they could, and were rather slowly tidying up the rest, when a man came up to them and asked the time.
“It’s half past two,” said Wendy, looking at her wrist-watch.
“Thank you, dear,” said the man. “That’s a nice little watch you’ve got there. Mind if I have a look at it?”
“Not at all,” said Wendy politely, holding out her arm.
“Mind if I take it off?” asked the man, beginning to undo the buckle.
“You can see it on my arm,” said Wendy, not quite liking the idea.
“Ah, but I want to see the works. It’s a fine little watch, this is, and I want to see the works,” said the man, speaking very quickly and fumbling with the buckle.
“No!” said Wendy, and she tried to withdraw her arm; but the man grasped it firmly, and she let out a little cry of fright.
Pluto had been having lots of fun with his bone, but at the sound of Wendy’s cry his head bobbed up like magic. He saw what was going on, and, with a growling roar, bounded at the man, bowling him over like a skittle.
The man had just got the watch undone as Pluto hit him, and he rolled over still clutching it. Pluto put one massive paw on his wrist and growled terrifyingly. The man howled with fear and dropped the watch. Pluto was putting more weight into his paw than he did when he put it on the white kitten!
Wendy darted forward and picked up the watch. “Let him go, Pluto!” she called, running back to where Joan was standing.
Pluto got off the man, but growled.
“Call him off, miss,” whined the man. “I daren’t get up with him standing there.”
“He won’t touch you if you go right away,” said Wendy.
The man moaned with fear, and Pluto growled in reply. However, the dog did not move, so the man slowly and carefully began to sit up. Pluto watched him, still growling softly, and he got up at last and fled off down towards the park gates, casting terrified glances behind him all the way.
“Oh, what a horrid man!” said Joan. “Did he hurt you, Wendy?”
“Not really, but he frightened me,” Wendy admitted. “I thought he’d steal my watch.”
“He would have done, if Pluto hadn’t rescued you,” said Joan. “Good old Pluto! Shall I give him a cake?”
“He likes biscuits best,” said Wendy. “Chocolate ones. Let’s give him two.” So they did.
After they had packed up the remains of their dinner, they wandered down to the lake and took their sandals off for a paddle. It was lovely in the cool water, and they became tremendously interested, watching the boats. Pluto caused a little excitement by chasing one of the ducks. He splashed about in the water, barking madly, and sending the ducks flying — and that sent the boats sailing — in all directions. But Wendy called to him, very sternly, to be quiet, and at last he settled down in the sun, with his nose between his paws, and just watched without making a nuisance of himself.
“Some of those children over there are bathing,” said Joan. “I wish we could bathe.”
“We haven’t got our bathing-costumes,” said Wendy.
“Neither have they,” said Joan.
“I think we’d get into trouble,” said Wendy. “They don’t let us do that in parks.”
“There’s someone coming now,” said Joan, hopping about with excitement. “Look! It’s the park-keeper, and he’s waving a stick and chasing them out! Oh, what fun! We are having a lovely day, Wendy!”
They both laughed to see the children rushing about as the park-keeper threatened them with his stick. The children made grabs at their clothes, but dared not go too close to the man for fear lest they got a smart tap on their bare skin. But when he thought he had taught them a good enough lesson, he moved away and let them dress.
“I suppose he won’t chase us now?” said Joan nervously. “Perhaps we’d better put our sandals on again.”
“Well, it’s time we got on with our job, anyway,” said Wendy, sitting down and drying her feet on her handkerchief. “We didn’t come out to play in the park all afternoon, did we? It’s time we found someone else to talk to.”
“What about the park-keeper?” asked Joan, doing up the buckle of her sandals.
“He’s busy, and he’s right on the other side of the lake,” said Wendy.
“Yes, I suppose he is. Oh, well, we’d better go out again, shall we? But it has been fun in here!” sighed Joan.
“Life isn’t all fun!” said Wendy severely. “We’ve got work to do. Come on!”