“Oh — have we got to wash?” said Philip with a sigh. “I’m clean enough. Golly, look at that meal! I say, if we’re going to have food like this these holidays I shan’t want to go donkey-riding at all. I’ll just stay here and eat!”
“Well, if you do that you’ll be too fat for any donkey to carry,” said his mother. “Go and wash, Philip. Mrs. Evans will show us our rooms — we can all do with a wash and a brush — and then we can do justice to this magnificent meal.”
Up some narrow winding stairs went the little party, into big low-ceilinged rooms set with heavy old-fashioned furniture. Mrs. Evans proudly showed them a small bathroom, a thing usually unknown in lonely farm-houses!
There were four rooms for the party. Bill had a small one to himself. Mrs. Mannering had a big one, well away from the children’s rooms, because they were often so noisy in the mornings. Philip and Jack had a curious little room together, whose ceiling slanted almost to the floor, and the girls had a bigger one next door.
“Isn’t this going to be fun?” said Jack, scrubbing his hands vigorously in the bathroom, while Kiki sat on a tap. “I’m longing to get at that meal downstairs. What a spread!”
“Move up,” said Dinah impatiently. “There’s room for two at this basin. We shall have to take it in turns in the morning. Oh, Kiki, don’t fly off with the nail-brush! Jack, stop her.”
The nail-brush was rescued and Kiki was tapped on the beak. She didn’t mind. She was looking forward to the food downstairs as much as the children. She had seen a bowl of raspberries which she meant to sit as near to as possible. She flew to Jack’s shoulder and muttered loving things into his ear while he dried his hands on a very rough towel.
“Stop it, Kiki. You tickle,” said Jack. “Are you ready, you others? Aunt Allie! Bill! Are you ready? We’re going downstairs.”
“Coming!” cried the others, and down they all went. Now for a proper feast!
Chapter 2
AT THE FARM-HOUSE
THAT first meal in the Welsh farm-house was a very happy one. Mrs. Evans was excited to have visitors, and Effans, her husband, beamed all round as he carved great slices of ham, tongue and chicken. There were a lot of “look yous” and “whateffers,” and Kiki was especially interested in the up-and-down sing-song way the two Welsh folk talked.
“Wipe your feet, whateffer,” she said to Mrs. Evans suddenly. Mrs. Evans looked surprised. She hadn’t heard the parrot speak before.
“Shut the door, look you,” commanded Kiki, raising her crest. The children squealed with laughter.
“She’s gone all Welsh already!” said Dinah. “Hey, watch her, Jack — she’s absolutely wolfing those raspberries!”
Jack put a plate over the bowl, and Kiki was angry. She made a noise like the car changing gear and Effans looked startled.
“It’s all right — it’s only Kiki,” said Jack. “She can make all kinds of noises. You should hear her give her imitation of a train whistling in a tunnel.”
Kiki opened her beak and swelled up her throat as if she was about to make this horrible noise. Mrs. Mannering spoke hastily. “Jack! Don’t let Kiki make that noise. If she does you’ll have to take her upstairs and put her in your bedroom.”
“Bad Kiki, naughty Kiki,” said the parrot solemnly, recognising the stern tone in Mrs. Mannering’s voice. She flew to Jack’s shoulder and cuddled there, eyeing the plate that he had put over the bowl of raspberries. She gave his ear a little nip.
What a meal that was for six very hungry travellers who had had nothing but sandwiches all day long! Even Mrs. Mannering ate more than she had ever eaten before at one meal. Mrs. Evans kept beaming round as she filled the plates.
“There iss plenty more in the larder, look you,” she said. “Effans, go fetch the meat-pie.”
“No, no!” said Mrs. Mannering. “Please don’t. We have more than enough here — it’s only that we are extra hungry and the food is so very very good.”
Mrs. Evans was pleased. “It iss plain country food, but it iss very good for the children,” she said. “They will soon have good appetites in this mountain air, look you.”
“Indeed to gootness they will,” agreed Effans. “Their appetites are small yet. They will grow.”
Mrs. Mannering looked rather alarmed. “Good gracious! I’ve never in my life seen them eat so much — if their appetites get any bigger I’ll never be able to feed them at home!”
“And we shall starve at school,” grinned Jack.
“The poor boy!” said Mrs. Evans. “It iss a big ham I must give him to take back, whateffer!”
At last nobody could eat any more. They sat back from the table, looking out of the wide, low windows and the big open door. What a view!
Great mountains reared up their heads in the evening light. Deep shadows lay across the valley, but the mountains still caught the sunlight, and gleamed enchantingly. It was all so different from the country round their home, and the children felt that they could never look long enough at the mountain-tops and the shadowed valleys below.
“You are very lonely here,” said Bill. “I can’t see a single house or farm anywhere.”
“My brother lives on the other side of that mountain,” said Mrs. Evans, pointing. “I see him at the market each week. That is ten miles away, or maybe eleven. And my sister lives beyond that mountain you can see there. She too has a farm. So we have neighbours, look you.”
“Yes — but not next-door ones!” said Dinah. “Don’t you ever feel cut-off and lonely here, Mrs. Evans?”
Mrs. Evans looked surprised. “Lonely? Indeed to gootness, what iss there to be lonely about, with Effans by my side, and the shepherd up on the hills, and the cow-herd and his wife in their cottage near by? And there iss plenty of animals, as you will see.”
Hens wandered in and out of the open door, pecking up crumbs fallen from the table. Kiki watched them intently. She began a warm, clucking noise, and the hens clucked back. A cock came strutting in and looked round for the hen that had a cluck he didn’t quite know.
“Cock-a-doodle-doo!” suddenly crowed the cock defiantly, catching sight of Kiki on Jack’s shoulders.
“Cock-a-doodle-doo!” answered Kiki, and the cock immediately jumped up on to the table to fight the crowing parrot.
He was shooed down and ran out indignantly, followed by a cackle of laughter from Kiki. Effans held his sides and laughed till the tears ran down his cheeks.
“That is a fine bird, look you!” he said to Jack, quite losing his heart to Kiki. “Let her help herself to the raspberries again.”
“She’s had enough, thank you very much,” said Jack, pleased at Effans’ praise of Kiki. People didn’t always like the parrot, and when she went away with him Jack was always anxious in case anyone should object to her.
They all wandered out into the golden evening air, happy and well satisfied. Bill and Mrs. Mannering sat on an old stone wall, watching the sun sink behind a mountain in the west. The four children went round the farmhouse and its buildings.
“Pigs! And what a marvellous clean pig-sty,” said Dinah. “I’ve never seen a clean pig before. Look at this one, fat and shining as if it’s been scrubbed.”
“It probably has, in preparation for our coming!” said Philip. “I love these little piglets too. Look at them routing round with their funny little snouts.”
“Kiki will soon have a wonderful collection of noises,” said Lucy-Ann, hearing the parrot giving a very life-like grunt. “She’ll be able to moo and bellow and grunt and crow and cluck . . .”
“And gobble like a turkey!” said Dinah, seeing some turkeys near by. “This is a lovely farm. They’ve got everything. Oh, Philip — look at that kid!”
There were some goats on the mountainside not far off, and with them was a kid. It was snow-white, dainty and altogether lovely. Philip stood looking at it, loving it at once.
He made a curious little bleating noise and all the goats looked round and stopped eating. The kid pricked up its little white ears, and stood quivering on its slender legs. It was very young and new.
Philip made the noise again. The kid left its mother and came leaping to him. It sprang right into his arms and nestled there, butting its soft white head against Philip’s chin.
“Oh, Philip — isn’t it sweet!” said the girls, and stroked the little thing and rubbed their cheeks against its snow-white coat.
“I wish animals came to me like they come to you, Philip,” said Lucy-Ann enviously. It was amazing the attraction that Philip had for creatures of any kind. Even a moth would rest contentedly on his finger, and the number of strange pets he had had was unbelievable. Hedgehogs, stag-beetles, lizards, young birds, mice, rats — you never knew what Philip would have next. All creatures loved him and trusted him, and he in turn understood them and loved them too.