THE B. OF A C. OF A P. G.
“He’s a rude fellow, and a perfect nuisance,” said Miss Crimson Lake, “you said he was a bother, you said he upset everything.”
“Oh, well, we may say anything we like about him,” said Christmas, “he’s our brother. That’s different. But we won’t hear him abused by a bit of a chit of a pink girl.”
“What?” shrieked Miss Crimson Lake.
“A bit of a chit of a pink girl!” shouted the fairies in chorus.
“Lucy, Major,” screamed Miss Crimson Lake, “do you hear them? They called me aOh! Oh! Oh!”
Miss Crimson Lake waved her arms and threw herself down on the ground in her excitement. But though she almost sat down on the Major, he only moved out of the way, and did not speak to her. He was lost in thought.
Lucy, too, paid no attention to Miss Crimson Lake. Lucy had buried her face in her hands, and was sitting in a heap on the ground. She did not seem to hear Miss Crimson Lake’s screams.
The fairies were delighted. They joined hands, and danced round and round in a circle, calling at the top of their voices, “A bit of a chit of a pink girl!”
When Miss Crimson Lake found that nobody was troubling about her, she picked herself up from the ground, stopped screaming, and walked away.
“She’s a silly young thing,” said Christmas.
‘So stuck up and conceited,” said Summer.
“Hullo! Hullo!” shouted a voice.
“Who is it?” asked Summer.
“Half-term, of course,” said Christmas, “He’s up the tree.”
“Hullo! Hullo!” shouted Half-term again. “Come up, come up. It’s fine up here. I can see Paint Land, Music Land, Rhyme Land, Sum Land, Nonsense Land, ever so far. Come up, come up.”
“Don’t think we will,” said Christmas.
“No, thank you,” called Summer.
You come down,” shouted Easter.
“All right, I’m coming,” called Half-term.
