Enid Blyton (6 page)

A SURPRISE FOR DAME GENTLE

There was once an old woman called Dame Gentle, and she was just like her name. She was a dear old thing, and all the children loved her.

She was very poor, and sometimes, like Mother Hubbard, when she went to the cupboard— the cupboard was bare!

One day she had a bit of luck. Mrs. Biddle wanted some scrubbing done, and she asked Dame Gentle if she thought she could do it.

"Of course!" said Dame Gentle. "Haven't I rubbed and scrubbed all my life? A good bit of hard work never

hurt anybody! I'll come along to-morrow and do whatever you want me to. Ah, I'm pleased about this, Mrs. Biddle. I want a new blanket for my bed, and a new kettle for my stove. Maybe I'll be able to get them now!"

Well, she worked very hard indeed, and when the cleaning was done she had enough money to get what she wanted. She was very happy.

"Now for once in a way I'll give myself a real treat!" said old Dame Gentle. "It's my birthday next week, and I'll make myself a cake, and get in a tin of cocoa to make some hot cocoa. I'll boil the water in my new kettle, and I'll be warm at night under my new blanket. Ah, I'm in luck's way just now!"

She asked Mother Dilly to come and share the cake and the cocoa with her, for she was a generous old thing. When the day came, Dame Gentle ran out to ask one

of her neighbours for a few flowers to put on her table.

And whilst she was gone, who should come to the open door but Mister Mean! He rapped. Nobody answered. He pushed open the door a bit wider and looked inside. Dame Gentle was not there!

Then Mister Mean saw the new cake on the table, the tin of cocoa, and the new blanket set ready to show Mother Dilly when she came. His mean little eyes gleamed with delight. He tiptoed into the kitchen, put the cake and the cocoa into his pockets, and rolled up the nice new

blanket. He threw it over his shoulder and ran out of the room and down the path.

Just in time too—for Dame Gentle was coming back with a few flowers for the table. She trotted up the path to the front door, which she had left open, and walked into her warm kitchen.

"Mother Dilly will be here in a minute," she thought. "I wonder if that kettle's boiling."

And then she saw that her beautiful new cake was gone! And the tin of cocoa! And the lovely warm blanket!

Dame Gentle stared as if she couldn't believe her eyes.
Where
had they gone to? She looked all round. She looked in the cupboard—but the cupboard was bare!

"Somebody's stolen them!" she said, and she sank down into her chair. "Oh, how mean! To steal from an old, old woman like me! My lovely cake—and my beautiful blanket—all gone! What a 
horrid thing
 
to
 
happen on
 
my birthday!"

There was a knock at the door and Mother Dilly walked in. "What's the matter?" she cried, when she saw how sad Dame Gentle looked.

"Somebody has stolen all my birthday things, that I worked so hard to get," said Dame Gentle, wiping her eyes. "It's upset me a bit."

"What a shame!" said Mother Dilly, putting her arms round her friend. "Oh, what a shame! Who stole them?"

"I don't know," said Dame Gentle. "I just ran out to get those flowers, and when I came back everything was gone— even the tin of cocoa!"

"Now don't you cry, dear," said her friend. "I'll just run home and get a bit of tea, and two pieces of shortbread that I've got left in my tin. And we'll eat those for your birthday."

She left the old woman and hurried out into the street, really angry to think that someone should have treated old Dame Gentle so badly. She bumped into a fat little man with curious green eyes, as she ran out of the gate.

"Oh, I beg your pardon!" said Mother Dilly. "I'm feeling rather hot and angry, and I didn't look where I was going."

"Hot and angry!" said Mr. Pink-Whistle in surprise, for of course it was the little secret man, who happened to be passing by. "What's the matter?"

"Somebody has taken the cake, the cocoa, and the new blanket that my poor old friend, Dame Gentle, worked so hard to get," said Mother Dilly fiercely. "Isn't it a shame?"

"It certainly
is,
" said
Mr. Pink-Whistle, pricking up his ears at once. "Is she a kind old soul?"

"The kindest in the world!" said Mother Dilly. She doesn't deserve such bad luck. I'm sure it's that horrid Mister Mean who has done this. He is such a sly creature, and not at all honest."

"Really?" said Mr. Pink-Whistle. "Where does he live?"

"He lives at Cherry Cottage, round the corner," said Mother Dilly. The little fat man raised his hat and ran off. Mother Dilly wondered who he was and what he was going to do.

Mr. Pink-Whistle made himself disappear as soon as he turned the corner. Then, 
quite invisible, he looked for Cherry Cottage. Ah—there it was, at the end. He walked quietly up the path and looked in at the window.

Mister Mean was there, grinning away to himself. He had got the cake on the table, and had already eaten half of it. He had made himself a fine jug of hot cocoa from the cocoa powder in the tin, and he had draped the new blanket round himself to see how warm it was.

So of course Mr. Pink-Whistle knew at once that Mister Mean was the thief. "The mean, hateful creature!" he said to himself. "Making an old woman unhappy, just when she had got a little treat ready. Ah, well, Mister Mean, you'll be sorry."

Mr. Pink-Whistle walked up to the door, gave it a loud crack with his fist, and flung it open. He stamped in and made a sort of angry growling noise in his throat.

"Who's that?" cried Mister Mean in alarm, for he could see nobody, of course.

Mr. Pink-Whistle said nothing. He just made the angry growling noise again. He went to the larder door and threw it open. It was full of goodies! There was a meat-pie, a jam-tart, a tin of biscuits, two kippers, a large tin of best tea, and some jars of potted meat. There was a big white loaf of bread in the bin and a pound of butter on a plate.

"Good!" Mr. Pink-Whistle growled in his throat. "Very good! I'll have those!"

He began to take them all off the shelves. Mister Mean, who was shivering in his shoes, jumped up at once. "Stop thief!" he cried. "Stop thief! Those are my belongings!"

Mr. Pink-Whistle growled again. "I'm only doing what you've just done this morning!" he said. "Where did you get that cake from? Where did you get that blanket? You wicked fellow, to rob an old woman!"

Mister Mean was so terrified to hear a voice and not see anyone that he fell down on his knees and begged for mercy.

"Mercy!" shouted Mr. Pink-Whistle, who was now beginning to enjoy himself. "No! You shan't have any mercy. I might even eat you up!"

"Oh no, don't, don't!" begged 
Mister Mean, who at once thought that Mr. Pink-Whistle must be an invisible giant or something. He didn't know that he was a little man much smaller than he, Mister Mean, was! "Take all you want-but leave my house and don't come back again. You frighten me! I can't see you! I'll never steal again, never, never, never!"

"Well, see you don't," said Mr. Pink-Whistle, "or I shall certainly come back and gobble you up in one mouthful!"

Mr. Pink-Whistle could hardly keep from giggling when he thought how difficult it would be for him to gobble up Mister Mean. He took the new blanket, and a new rug from the sofa, and set off to Dame Gentle's, carrying as well all the goodies he had found in the larder.

Mother Dilly hadn't yet come back. Dame Gentle had gone into the bedroom to wash her face. There was no one in the kitchen.

Mr. Pink-Whistle draped the blanket over one chair and the rug over the other. He put the meat-pie, the jam-tart, the biscuits, kippers, tea, bread, and potted meat on the table. Then, hearing footsteps, he slipped quietly to one side, and waited.

Dame Gentle came into the kitchen at the same time as Mother Dilly came back. They both saw all the new things at the same time. How they stared! They rubbed their eyes and stared again.

"Do you see what I see?" asked Dame

Gentle at last. "Goodies of all kinds!
And
my blanket and a new rug as well?"

"I see it all!" said Mother Dilly. "It's very strange—but very pleasant. Let's sit down and eat!"

"Oh, I'm so happy again," said Dame Gentle. "Somebody was
very
unkind to me—but now some one else has been even kinder! Blessings on him, whoever he may be! Blessings on his kind head!"

"Thank you," whispered Mr. Pink-Whistle, longing to show himself, but not daring to, in case he frightened the two old ladies. "Thank you!"

"Funny!" said Dame Gentle, looking all round. "I thought I heard something. IS ANYBODY HERE?"

But nobody answered. Mr. Pink-Whistle had slipped out of the door, and was already on the way to his next adventure. Kind old Pink-Whistle!