William The Good (Just William, Book 9)
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'I din' take it,' William said. 'Ethel took it. She - she sort of can't help herself. I always,' he added virtuously, 'try'n put back the things she's took.' It all started with a rare event: William Brown read a book. And now he feels inspired to save his sister from a life of crime. The road to disaster is paved with William's good intentions. Ethel's behaviour has been rather odd - more so than is usual in a girl. But William, the Brown family's moral guardian, is determined to 'reform' her - whatever the consequences . . .
course,’ said Ethel shortly. ‘An – an’ you’ve – you’ve got a bad cold?’ he continued. Ethel did not consider this worth an answer, so they walked on in silence. ‘Well, dear?’ said Mrs Brown when they reached home. ‘I’b goig to be Rosalid,’ said Ethel, ‘but I’ve got a bit of co’d, so I think I’ll go to bed.’ In her relief at having been chosen as Rosalind, she became expansive and confidential. ‘I knew I’d god a co’d this borning, an’ I sneaked up that boddle of co’d cure ad drank sobe id my
order to divert the limelight from Henry’s intellect to his own physical prowess. ‘Bet you couldn’t,’ challenged Ginger. ‘Bet I could,’ said William. ‘Bet you couldn’t.’ ‘Bet I could.’ It was the sort of discussion that can go on for ever. However, when it had gone only about ten minutes, William said with an air of finality: ‘Well, I haven’t got my catapult, anyway, or else I’d jolly well show you.’ Ginger unexpectedly produced a catapult. ‘Here’s mine,’ he said. ‘Well, I haven’t got
only sound was the solemn ticking of the grandfather clock. ‘I b’lieve they have gone out again,’ whispered William. ‘I’m goin’ down. Seems to me they’re all potty.’ He took off his shoes, crept silently down the stairs to the empty, silent hall and stood there irresolute. Then he thought he heard a movement in a chest near the clock. He approached it and listened. Heavy, raucous breathing came from inside. He raised the lid. As he did so there came from it a high-pitched scream of terror. The
more and more clearly the high-pitched cry of terror he had uttered as the chest opened. He was wondering what explanation he could give this boy of that and of his presence in the rug box. WILLIAM AND THE GREAT MAN STARED BLANKLY AT EACH OTHER. ‘ER – WAS IT YOU WHO MADE THAT NOISE UPSTAIRS?’ THE GREAT MAN ASKED. The telephone call was from the police. The lion had been found. The rumour that it had been seen at the other end of the village had proved to be incorrect. On escaping from its cage
Ginger. ‘Go on! Say something else.’ ‘Get out, you old fool,’ said the parrot with a snigger. ‘Jolly good, isn’t it?’ said Ginger proudly. ‘And it’s quite tame. It comes out an’ sits on your finger. My aunt lets me take it out and hold it. At least,’ he corrected himself, ‘she used to before that last vase got broke. How could I know,’ he added bitterly, ‘that a vase would fall off the hall table on to the floor an’ get broke simply with me comin’ downstairs?’ William made a vague sound