CHAPTER IIA COUNCIL OF WAR
It was three weeks later that David called a Council of War in the garden. Nurse had departed with her boxes. Grandfather had engaged a “strict governess.”
The Council of War had met in the old pigsty, where all really secret Councils took place. This being a really important Council, the refreshments consisted of peaches and the best hothouse grapes—stolen, of course, from the hothouse, though the boys knew well enough the old gardener would get into trouble with his master, and as likely as not one of the under-gardeners would get the blame.
“And so the dragon is to arrive at six o’clock to-night,” said Bill. “Her name is Miss Prince.”
“Can’t you just see her?” said David, the imaginative one. “She will be very tall and bony, and about a hundred, with grey hair all screwed up in a little knob, and big round goggles, and teeth like an old horse, and a voice like—like—like——”
“Like the ugly sisters in the Cinderella pantomime,” said Nipper.
“And she will dress in a stuffy old black dress, all over buttons and spiky whalebone things,” added David.
“Well,” said Bill, “is war declared?”
“Yes!” shouted the other two.
“And we’ll have martial law. Nothing is too bad for Miss Prince,” interposed David.
“I say—frightfulness,” said Bill.
“Yes—the frightfulest frightfulness,” said the other two.
“We will jolly well show her we are not going to be ‘managed’ or ‘disciplined’ or bullied,” said David.
“We’ll bullyher,” said Bill, “and I bet you she leaves in a week.”
“How shall we welcome her?” said David. “I should say an apple-pie bed, with worms and slugs in it.”
“Yes. Also mice in her room—they always hate mice.”
“And a booby trap on the door.”
And so the Council of War proceeded to draw up plans against the new governess.
Meanwhile, a train was speeding along between green fields and leafy woods. In a corner of a carriage sat a girl, looking out of the window, and thinking to herself, “What jolly country for scouting this would be!”
She looked about twenty-four or twenty-five. She had the kind of face a boy would call jolly,and the kind of nice blue eyes that seem to smile at you and make you feel—“This is afriend; one can talk to her and tell her things, and she will understand, although sheisa grown-up.”
“Well,” said Bill, “is war declared?” “Yes,” came the determined reply.[To face page 14.
“Well,” said Bill, “is war declared?” “Yes,” came the determined reply.[To face page 14.
[To face page 14.
Presently the girl sighed. “How jolly hard it was saying good-bye to the Cubs!” she thought to herself. “But I mustn’t ‘give in tomyself’and feel unhappy. After all, I am going to some more boys. Dear little chaps, they sound awfully jolly and a good handful to manage. I should feel rather homesick if it was not for the thought of them. But they are sure to give me a good welcome, and we will soon make friends.”
She smiled to herself, and the train thundered on between the green fields.