Oswald Bastable and Others

E. (Edith) Nesbit, H. R. (Harold Robert) Millar, C. E. (Charles Edmund) Brock

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• Publié par: chuep
• Publié le: 08 décembre 2010
• Nombre de lectures: 72
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 1 Mo

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The Project Gutenberg EBook of Oswald Bastable and Others, by Edith Nesbit This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org Title: Oswald Bastable and Others Author: Edith Nesbit Illustrator: Charles E. Brock H. R. Millar Release Date: May 14, 2009 [EBook #28804] Language: English Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OSWALD BASTABLE AND OTHERS *** Produced by Suzanne Shell and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net OSWALD BASTABLE AND OTHERS By E. NESBIT Illustrated by CHARLES E. BROCK AND H. R. MILLAR ERNEST BENN LIMITED LONDON COWARD-McCANN INC NEW YORK First re-issued in this edition 1960 Published by Ernest Benn Limited Bouverie House · Fleet Street · London · EC4 and Coward-McCann Inc 210 Madison Avenue · New York 16 · NY Printed in Great Britain '"Don't break down the door! The villains may return any moment and destroy you."'—Page 115. TO MY DEAR NIECE ANTHONIA NESBIT CONTENTS OSWALD BASTABLE AN OBJECT OF VALUE AND VIRTUE THE RUNAWAYS THE ARSENICATORS: A TALE OF CRIME THE ENCHANCERIED HOUSE 1 34 64 89 OTHERS MOLLY THE MEASLES, AND THE , MISSING WILL BILLY AND WILLIAM THE TWOPENNY SPELL SHOWING OFF; OR, THE LOOKING-GLASS BOY THE RING AND THE LAMP THE CHARMED LIFE; OR, THE PRINCESS AND THE 123 151 167 181 200 224 LIFT-MAN BILLY THE KING THE PRINCESS AND THE CAT THE WHITE HORSE SIR CHRISTOPHER COCKLESHELL MUSCADEL 224 247 275 301 318 343 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 'Don't break down the door! The villains may return any Frontispiece moment and destroy you' 'Here is your prize,' said Oswald 'Come into the kitchen,' said Oswald; 'you can drip there quite comfortably' We consented to carry the unfortunate bed-woman to it The room was a very odd shape A little person in a large white cap Molly had a splendid ride behind the groom The bicycle started, Billy in the saddle and Harold on the step 'And what can we do for you to-day, Miss? ' The alligator very nearly had him 'Your servant, Miss. Do I understand that you order me to mend this?' The little girl had slapped Fina, and taken the pagoda away 'We'll see if you are going to begin a-ordering of me about' 'Come by post, your Lordship,' said the footman 'Excuse my hair, Sire,' he said 'Speak to the dragon as soon as it arrives ' The two skated into each other's arms 'Take that!' cried he, aiming an apple at the old man's head In the drawer was just one jewelled ring. It lay on a written page A black-winged monster, with hundreds and hundreds of eyes On the table stood the dazzling figure of a real fullsized princess A blowzy, frowzy dairymaid 'You've got a face as long as a fiddle' 30 52 76 103 121 134 164 170 194 206 214 218 254 256 262 270 306 346 350 358 362 366 [Pg 1] AN OBJECT OF VALUE AND VIRTUE This happened a very little time after we left our humble home in Lewisham, and went to live at the Blackheath house of our Indian uncle, which was replete with every modern convenience, and had a big garden and a great many greenhouses. We had had a lot of jolly Christmas presents, and one of them was Dicky's from father, and it was a printing-press. Not one of the eighteenpenny kind that never come off, but a real tip-topper, that you could have printed a whole newspaper out of if you could have been clever enough to make up all the stuff there is in newspapers. I don't know how people can do it. It's all about different things, but it is all just the same too. But the author is sorry to find he is not telling things from the beginning, as he has been taught. The printing-press really doesn't come into the story till quite a long way on. So it is no use your wondering what it was that we did print with the printing-press. It was not a newspaper, anyway, and it wasn't my young brother's poetry, though he and the girls did do an awful lot of that. It was something much more far-reaching, as you will see if you wait. [Pg 2] There wasn't any skating those holidays, because it was what they call nice open weather. That means it was simply muggy, and you could play out of doors without grown-ups fussing about your overcoat, or bringing you to open shame in the streets with knitted comforters, except, of course, the poet Noël, who is young, and equal to having bronchitis if he only looks at a pair of wet boots. But the girls were indoors a good deal, trying to make things for a bazaar which the people our housekeeper's elder sister lives with were having in the country for the benefit of a poor iron church that was in difficulties. And Noël and H. O. were with them, putting sweets in bags for the bazaar's lucky-tub. So Dicky and I were out alone together. But we were not angry with the others for their stuffy way of spending a day. Two is not a good number, though, for any game except fives; and the man who ordered the vineries and pineries, and butlers' pantries and things, never had the sense to tell the builders to make a fives court. Some people never think of the simplest things. So we had been playing catch with a fives ball. It was Dicky's ball, and Oswald said: 'I bet you can't hit it over the house.' 'What do you bet?' said Dicky. And Oswald replied: 'Anything you like. You couldn't do it, anyhow.' Dicky said: 'Miss Blake says betting is wicked; but I don't believe it is, if you don't bet money.' Oswald reminded him how in 'Miss Edgeworth' even that wretched little Rosamond, who is never allowed to do anything she wants to, even lose her own needles, makes a bet with her brother, and none of the grown-ups turn a hair. 'But I don't want to bet,' he said. 'I know you can't do it.' 'I'll bet you my fives ball I do,' Dicky rejoindered. 'Done! I'll bet you that threepenny ball of string and the cobbler's wax you were bothering about yesterday.' So Dicky said 'Done!' and then he went and got a tennis racket—when I meant with his hands —and the ball soared up to the top of the house and faded away. But when we went round to look for it