"Blyton, Enid - Famous Five 18 - Five On Finniston Farm" - читать интересную книгу автора (Blyton Enid)

‘CAN’T YOU SAY PLEASE?’ roared a voice from the corner. That was Great-Grand-dad, of course! But the boy took no notice, and merely held out his plate, while Mrs Philpot cut him an enormous slice of cake.
‘I’ll have the same as Junior, Mrs Philpot mam,’ said the American, and sat down at the table. He held out his plate too. ‘Say, you should see the things we’ve bought. We’ve had a day, haven’t we, Junior?’
‘Sure, Pop,’ said Junior. ‘Say, can’t I have an iced drink? Look-a-here - who’s going to drink hot tea on a day like this!’
‘I’ll get you some iced orangeade,’ said Mrs Philpot, rising.
‘LET HIM GET IT HIMSELF! LITTLE VARMINT!’ That was Great-Grand-dad again, of course. But the twins were already up and on their way to fetch the orangeade themselves. George caught sight of their faces as they passed her, and had a shock of surprise. Goodness - how those twins hated that boy!
‘That old Grand-daddy of yours must be a bit of a nuisance to you,’ said the American in a low voice to Mrs Philpot. ‘Always butting in, isn’t he? Rude old fellow, too.’
‘NOW DON’T YOU SET THERE WHISPERING!’ shouted Grand-dad. ‘I CAN HEAR EVERY WORD!’
‘Now, now, Grand-dad, don’t upset yourself,’ said poor Mrs Philpot. ‘You just sit there and have a nap.’
‘No. I’m going out again,’ said Great-Grand-dad, heaving himself up. ‘There’s some people that fair make me ill!’
And out he went, leaning on his stick, a magnificent figure with his head of snow-white hair and his long beard.
‘Like someone out of the Old Testament,’ said Anne to Dick. Timmy got up and followed the old man to the door, with Snippet close behind him. Junior saw Timmy at once.
‘I say! Look at that big dog!’ he said. ‘Who’s he? I’ve not seen him before. Hey, you, come and have a bun.’
Timmy took not the slightest notice. George addressed Junior in an icy voice. ‘That’s my dog Timmy. I don’t allow anyone to feed him except myself.’
‘Shucks!’ said Junior, and threw the cake down on the floor, so that it slid to Tim’s feet. ‘That’s for you, dog!’
Timmy looked down at the cake, and stood perfectly still. Then he looked at George. ‘Come here, Timmy,’ said George, and he walked straight to her. The cake lay on the floor half-broken into crumbs.
‘My dog is not going to eat that,’ said George. ‘Better pick it up, hadn’t you? It’s made a bit of a mess on the floor.’
‘Pick it up yourself,’ said Junior, helping himself to another bun. ‘My, my - what a glare you’ve got! Makes me want my sunglasses, brother!’ He gave George a sudden sharp dig in the ribs, and she gasped. Timmy was beside her in a moment, growling so deeply that Junior slid out of his seat in alarm.
‘Say, Pop - this dog’s fierce!’ he said. ‘He made to bite me!’
‘He did not,’ said George. ‘But he might bite if you don’t do what I said, and pick up that bun!’
‘Now, now,’ said Mrs Philpot, really distressed. ‘Leave it - it can be swept up afterwards. Will you have another piece of cake, Mr Henning?’
It really was an embarrassing meal, and Anne longed for it to be over. Junior quietened down considerably when he saw Timmy lying down between his chair and George’s, but his father made up for that by talking non-stop about the ‘wunnerful’ things he had bought that day. Everyone was extremely bored. The twins came back with a jug of orangeade, which they placed on the table, with two glasses, in case Mr Henning wanted some. They then disappeared.
‘Where have they gone?’ demanded Junior, having poured a glass of orangeade straight down his throat in a most remarkable manner. ‘Gee, that was good.’
‘The twins have gone to help with the milking, I expect,’ said Mrs Philpot, looking suddenly very weary. Julian looked at her. She must find these meals very tiring, he thought, coping with so many people. Junior piped up at once.
‘I’ll go and help with the milking,’ he said, and slid off his chair.
‘I’d rather you didn’t, Junior,’ said Mrs Philpot. ‘You upset the cows a bit last time, you know.’
‘Aw gee - that was because I was new to it,’ said Junior. Julian looked at Mr Henning, expecting him to forbid Junior to go, but he said nothing. He lighted a cigarette and threw the match down on the floor.
George scowled when she saw Junior heading for the door. How dare he go out to the milking against the wishes of his hostess? She murmured a few words to Timmy, and he got up at once and ran to the door, barring it against Junior.
‘Get outa my way, you,’ said Junior, stopping. Timmy growled. ‘Say, call him back, will you?’ said Junior, turning round. No one said anything. Mrs Philpot rose and began to gather things together. It seemed to George as if she had tears in her eyes. No wonder, if this kind of thing happened every day!
As Timmy stood like a statue in the doorway, giving small threatening growls every now and again, Junior decided to give up. He dearly longed to give the dog a kick, but didn’t dare to. He walked back to his father.
‘Say, Pop - coming for a walk?’ he said. ‘Let’s get out of here.’
Without a word father and son walked out of the other door. Everyone heaved a sigh of relief.
‘You go and sit down and have a rest, Mrs Philpot,’ said Anne. ‘We’ll do the washing-up. We’d love to!’
‘Well - it’s really kind of you,’ said Mrs Philpot. ‘I’ve been on the go all day, and twenty minutes’ rest will do me good. I’m afraid Junior gets on my nerves. I do hope Timmy won’t bite him!’
‘He’ll probably give him a nip before long,’ said George cheerfully, collecting cups and saucers with Anne. ‘What are you boys going to do? Go to the milking-shed?’
‘Yes. We’ve milked cows plenty of times,’ said Dick. ‘Nice job! I like the smell of cows. See you later, girls - and if that little Pest tries any tricks, just give us a call! I’d love to rub his face into that crumby mess on the floor!’
‘I’m just going to sweep it up,’ said Anne. ‘See you at supper-time!’
The boys went out, whistling. Mrs Philpot had disappeared. Only George, Anne and Timmy were left, for Snippet had gone out with the Harries.
‘I rather wish we hadn’t come,’ said George, carrying out a tray to the scullery. ‘It’s an AWFUL lot for Mrs Philpot to do. Still - if she needs the money...’
‘Oh well - we can help - and we’ll be out most of the day,’ said Anne. ‘We shan’t see much of Junior - little beast!’
You’re wrong, Anne. You’ll see far too much of him! It’s a good thing Timmy’s there - he’s the only one that can manage people like Junior!


Chapter Five

EVENING AT THE FARM

George and Anne went out to find the others in the milking-shed. There were plenty of cows there, swishing their tails. The milking was almost finished, and the twins were driving some of the cows back to their field.
‘Hallo - how did you get on?’ asked Anne.
‘Fine - it was fun,’ said Dick. ‘My cows did better than Julian’s, though - I sang to them all the time, and they loved it!’
‘Ass!’ said George. ‘Did you have a talk with the farmer?’