A DARK AND STORMY NIGHT and A GHOST.
I said to Mr Dusty what a foul night this was and how glad I would be when morning came. He readily agreed, a night like this would bring nothing good.
We both dozed by the warm comforting fire, it was well after the midnight hour and the wind had finally died down. All at Hollyhock Hill had lights out and were fast asleep in their warm beds safe and sound at last.
All of a sudden a loud blood curdling S-C-R-E-A-M pierced the cold night air. We both jumped up frightened out of our wits, mouths open and just stared at each other. The fur on the back of my head stood up like a fence post. Neither of us spoke, we were paralyzed as if frozen in time waiting for what I don't know. And then another S-C-R-E-A-M. Mr Dusty declared that it was coming from Chickie Village. We both raced down the hill, lights were being turned on one by one in the neighbourhood." What was that " someone called out, " is it another fox "? yelled another. By now we could hear that it was coming from No 2 Grassy Lane, it was our new friend Miss Ashanthi who was in trouble. We banged on the front door but there was no answer, so we broke it down fearing the worst. Eventually we found the poor dear in a dreadful state hiding under her bed, shivering and shaking and hardly able to speak such was her terror. Miss Pearl wrapped in one of her handmade quilts came creeping in and seeing the state Miss Ashanthi was in threw her own warm quilt around her shoulders. She gently led her downstairs into the kitchen and sat her down by the big black stove and put the kettle on for some nice hot tea and a splash of brandy. We waited for Miss Ashanthi to drink her brandy tea and calm down. Now seeing as how it was such a very cold night and that we all of us had had a shock it was decided that we all should have brandy in our tea. And very medicinal it was too.
Finally Miss Ashanthi was herself again and spluttered out that she had seen a ghost, outside her bedroom window.
We all stood staring at each other not knowing what to say next. Mr Dusty broke the silence and declared that there is no such thing as a ghost and that he suspected some fowl play was at hand.
Mrs MacKluckity arrived and went about cooking pancakes as dawn was breaking and Mr MacKluckity, Mr Dusty and I went outside and made a search of the area. The bedrooms at No 2 were upstairs and we were trying to figure out who and what could have made a ghostly appearance at such a height. Looking up into the treetops we spotted the three naughty Blackbird boys stifling giggles and looking very pleased with themselves.
Aha! we all looked at each other and nodded our heads.
Over breakfast we assured Miss Ashanthi that all was well and that a fowl trick had been played on her by the Blackbird boys and that if they appeared in her window again she should throw her potty at them. They would be sternly dealt with, in fact this time we would put the matter into the hands of Annie with Spade, now she is a tough cookie when it comes to delinquent blackbirds. They were always messing up her seedlings after she lovingly planted them in the gardens. A visit was made to the Blackbird residence, and upon opening the door Mr Blackbird promptly fell out of it still half drunk from the night before. Mrs Blackbird was busy with her numerous offspring so we just enquired after her well being after the stormy night and bade them all good day.
Annie with Spade was furious and confronted the naughty Blackbird boys. The youngest of the three, ever willing to boast, told how they stole a white dishcloth off the clothesline and how two of them held each end of the cloth at the widow while the third poked his head into the dishcloth giving the appearance of a face in the window. They thought it to be a brilliant joke and couldn't understand why all this fuss was being made. Annie was not amused and told them so in no uncertain terms. She gave them an ultimatum, they were to do community work around Chickie Village, especially at No 2 Grassy Lane, pulling up all the weeds in the flower beds. They were to bring Miss Ashanthi a branch full of big juicy blackberries, enough for a lovely pot of jam, and they were to say sorry for giving her such a dreadful fright.
If they failed to do this she threatened to whisper in the ear of a Mr Baker who lived in a village over the other side of the hill, and of whom it was said, enjoyed a hearty meal of blackbird pie.Just to make sure they were mindful of their promise Mrs Annie went about her gardening chores singing
"Sing A Song Of Sixpence A Pocket full of Rye, Four And Twenty Blackbirds Baked In A Pie, When The Pie Was Open The Birds Were Nicely Cooked, Oh What A Lovely Dish Indeed To Have For Tea ".
It was our turn to have a giggle,the flower beds at Chickie Village never looked more lovely, there was not a weed to be seen.
Reported by Jovi Woofley....News at it happens.
0 comments:
Post a Comment