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William’s New Year’s Day | |
Author | Richmal Crompton |
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Published |
1922
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Language | English |
Nationality | British |
Genre | Children's Literature, Humor |
1922 Short Story
William’s New Year’s Day
William’s New Year’s Day is an English Children's Literature, Humor short story by British writer Richmal Crompton. It was first published in 1922. William's New Year's Day is from Crompton's Just-William short story series (1922), illustrated by Thomas Henry.
William’s New Year’s Day
by Richmal Crompton
William went whistling down the street, his hands in his pockets. Williams whistle was more penetrating than melodious. Sensitive people fled shuddering at the sound. The proprietor of the sweet-shop, however, was not sensitive. He nodded affably as William passed. William was a regular customer of hisas regular, that is, as a wholly inadequate allowance would permit. Encouraged William paused at the doorway and ceased to whistle.
Ullo, Mr. Moss! he said.
Ullo, William! said Mr. Moss.
Anythin cheap to-day? went on William hopefully.
Mr. Moss shook his head.
Twopence an ounce cheapest, he said.
William sighed.
Thats awful dear, he said.
What isnt dear? Tell me that. What isnt dear? said Mr. Moss lugubriously.
Well, gimme two ounces. Ill pay you to-morrow, said William casually.
Mr. Moss shook his head.
Go on! said William. I get my money to-morrow. You know I get my money to-morrow.
Cash, young sir, said Mr. Moss heavily. My terms is cash. Owever, he relented, Ill give you a few over when the scales is down to-morrow for a New Years gift.
Honest Injun?
Honest Injun.
Well, gimme them now then, said William.
Mr. Moss hesitated.
They wouldnt be no New Years gift then, would they? he said.
William considered.
Ill eat em to-day but Ill think about em to-morrow, he promised. Thatll make em a New Years gift.
Mr. Moss took out a handful of assorted fruit drops and passed them to William. William received them gratefully.
An what good resolution are you going to take to-morrow? went on Mr. Moss.
William crunched in silence for a minute, then,
Good resolution? he questioned. I aint got none.
Youve got to have a good resolution for New Years Day, said Mr. Moss firmly.
Same as giving up sugar in tea in Lent and wearing blue on Oxford and Cambridge Boat Race Day? said William with interest.
Yes, same as that. Well, youve got to think of some fault youd like to cure and start to-morrow.
William pondered.
Cant think of anything, he said at last. You think of something for me.
You might take one to do your school work properly, he suggested.
William shook his head.
No, he said, that wunt be much fun, would it? Crumbs! It wunt!
Orto keep your clothes tidy? went on his friend.
William shuddered at the thought.
Or togive up shouting and whistling.
Williams crammed two more sweets into his mouth and shook his head very firmly.
Crumbs, no! he ejaculated indistinctly.
Or to be perlite.
Perlite?
Yes. Please and thank you, and if you dont mind me sayin so, and if you excuse me contradictin of you, and can I do anything for you? and such like.
William was struck with this.
Yes, I might be that, he said. He straightened his collar and stood up. Yes, I might try bein that. How long has it to go on, though?
Not long, said Mr. Moss. Only the first day genrally. Folks generally give em up after that.
Whats yours? said William, putting four sweets into his mouth as he spoke.
Mr. Moss looked round his little shop with the air of a conspirator, then leant forward confidentially.
Im goin to arsk er again, he said.
Who? said William mystified.
Someone Ive arsked reglar every New Years Day for ten year.
Asked what? said William, gazing sadly at his last sweet.
Arsked to take me o course, said Mr. Moss with an air of contempt for Williams want of intelligence.
Take you where? said William. Where dyou want to go? Why cant you go yourself?
Ter marry me, I means, said Mr. Moss, blushing slightly as he spoke.
Well, said William with a judicial air, I wunt have asked the same one for ten years. Id have tried someone else. Id have gone on asking other people, if I wanted to get married. Youd be sure to find someone that wouldnt mind youwith a sweet-shop, too. She must be a softie. Does she know youve got a sweet-shop?
Mr. Moss merely sighed and popped a bulls eye into his mouth with an air of abstracted melancholy.
The next morning William leapt out of bed with an expression of stern resolve. Im goin to be plite, he remarked to his bedroom furniture. Im goin to be plite all day.
He met his father on the stairs as he went down to breakfast.
Good mornin, Father, he said, with what he fondly imagined to be a courtly manner. Can I do anything for you to-day?
His father looked down at him suspiciously.
What do you want now? he demanded.
William was hurt.
Im only bein plite. Itsyou knowone of those things you take on New Years Day. Well, Ive took one to be plite.
His father apologised. Im sorry, he said. You see, Im not used to it. It startled me.
At breakfast Williams politeness shone forth in all its glory.
Can I pass you anything, Robert? he said sweetly.
His elder brother coldly ignored him. Going to rain again, he said to the world in general.
If youll scuse me contradicting of you Robert, said William, I heard the milkman sayin it was goin to be fine. If youll scuse me contradictin you.
Look here! said Robert angrily, Less of your cheek!
Seems to me no one in this house understands wot bein plite is, said William bitterly. Seems to me one might go on bein plite in this house for years an no one know wot one was doin.
His mother looked at him anxiously.
Youre feeling quite well, dear, arent you? she said. You havent got a headache or anything, have you?
No. Im bein plite, he said irritably, then pulled himself up suddenly. Im quite well, thank you, Mother dear, he said in a tone of cloying sweetness.
Does it hurt you much? inquired his brother tenderly.
No thank you, Robert, said William politely.
After breakfast he received his pocket-money with courteous gratitude.
Thank you very much, Father.
Not at all. Pray dont mention it, William. Its quite all right, said Mr. Brown, not to be outdone. Then, Its rather trying. How long does it last?
What?
The resolution.
Oh, bein plite! He said they didnt often do it after the first day.
Hes quite right, whoever he is, said Mr. Brown. They dont.
Hes goin to ask her again, volunteered William.
Who ask who what? said Mr. Brown, but William had departed. He was already on his way to Mr. Mosss shop.
Mr. Moss was at the door, hatted and coated, and gazing anxiously down the street.
Goo mornin Mr. Moss, said William politely.
Mr. Moss took out a large antique watch.
Hes late! he said. I shall miss the train. Oh, dear! It will be the first New Years Day Ive missed in ten years.
William was inspecting the sweets with the air of an expert.
Them pink ones are new, he said at last. How much are they?
Eightpence a quarter. Oh, dear, I shall miss the train.
Theyre very small ones, said William disparagingly Youd think theyd be less than thatsmall ones like that.
Will youwill you do something for me and Ill give you a quarter of those sweets.
William gasped. The offer was almost too munificent to be true.
Ill do anythin for that, he said simply.
Well, just stay in the shop till my nephew Bill comes. Ell be ere in two shakes an Ill miss my train if I dont go now. Es goin to keep the shop for me till Im back an ell be ere any minute now. Jus tell im I ad to run for to catch my train an if anyone comes into the shop before e comes jus tell em to wait or to come back later. You can weigh yourself a quarter o those sweets.
Mr. Moss was certainly in a holiday mood. William pinched himself just to make sure that he was still alive and had not been translated suddenly to the realms of the blest.
Mr. Moss, with a last anxious glance at his watch, hurried off in the direction of the station.
William was left alone. He spent a few moments indulging in roseate day dreams. The ideal of his childhoodperhaps of everyones childhoodwas realised. He had a sweet-shop. He walked round the shop with a conscious swagger, pausing to pop into his mouth a Butter Ballcomposed, as the label stated, of pure farm cream and best butter. It was all hisall those rows and rows of gleaming bottles of sweets of every size and colour, those boxes and boxes of attractively arranged chocolates. Deliberately he imagined himself as their owner. By the time he had walked round the shop three times he believed that he was the owner.
At this point a small boy appeared in the doorway. William scowled at him.
Well, he said ungraciously, what dyou want? Then, suddenly remembering his resolution, Please what dyou want?
Wheres Uncle? said the small boy with equal ungraciousness. Cause our Bills ill an cant come.
William waved him off.
Thats all right, he said. You tell em thats all right. Thats quite all right. See? Now, you go off!
The small boy stood, as though rooted to the spot. William pressed into one of his hands a stick of liquorice and into the other a packet of chocolate.
Now, you go away! I dont want you here. See? You go away you littleassified cow!
Williams invective was often wholly original.
The small boy made off, still staring and clutching his spoils. William started to the door and yelled to the retreating figure, if you dont mind me sayin so.
He had already come to look upon the Resolution as a kind of god who must at all costs be propitiated. Already the Resolution seemed to have bestowed upon him the dream of his lifea fully-equipped sweet-shop.
He wandered round again and discovered a wholly new sweetmeat called Cokernut Kisses. Its only drawback was its instability. It melted away in the mouth at once. So much so that almost before William was aware of it he was confronted by the empty box. He returned to the more solid charms of the Pineapple Crisp.
He was interrupted by the entrance of a thin lady of uncertain age.
Good morning, she said icily. Wheres Mr. Moss?
William answered as well as the presence of five sweets in his mouth would allow him.
I cant hear a word you say, she saidmore frigidly than ever.
William removed two of his five sweets and placed them temporarily on the scale.
Gone, he said laconically, then murmured vaguely, thank you, as the thought of the Resolution loomed up in his mind.
Whos in charge?
Me, said William ungrammatically.
She looked at him with distinct disapproval.
Well, Ill have one of those bars of chocolates.
William looking round the shop, realised suddenly that his own depredations had been on no small scale. But there was a chance of making good any loss that Mr. Moss might otherwise have sustained.
He looked down at the twopenny bars.
Shillin each, he said firmly.
She gasped.
They were only twopence yesterday.
Theyre gone up since, said William brazenly, adding a vague, if youll kinly scuse me sayin so.
Gone up? she repeated indignantly.
Have you heard from the makers theyre gone up?
Yesm, said William politely.
When did you hear?
This morninif you dont mind me saying so.
Williams manner of fulsome politeness seemed to madden her.
Did you hear by post?
Yesm. By post this mornin.
She glared at him with vindictive triumph.
I happen to live opposite, you wicked, lying boy, and I know that the postman did not call here this morning.
William met her eye calmly.
No, they came round to see me in the nightthe makers did. You count of heard them, he added hastily. It was when you was asleep. If youll scuse me contradictin of you.
It is a great gift to be able to lie so as to convince other people. It is a still greater gift to be able to lie so as to convince oneself. William was possessed of the latter gift.
I shall certainly not pay more than twopence, said his customer severely, taking a bar of chocolate and laying down twopence on the counter. And I shall report this shop to the Profiteering Committee. Its scandalous. And a pack of wicked lies!
William scowled at her.
Theyre a shillin, he said. I dont want your nasty ole tuppences. I said they was a shillin.
He followed her to the door. She was crossing the street to her house. Youyou ole thief! he yelled after her, though, true to his Resolution, he added softly with dogged determination, if you dont mind me sayin so.
Ill set the police on you, his late customer shouted angrily back across the street. You wicked, blasphemous boy!
William put out his tongue at her, then returned to the shop and closed the door.
Here he discovered that the door, when opened, rang a bell, and, after filling his mouth with Liquorice All Sorts, he spent the next five minutes vigorously opening and shutting the door till something went wrong with the mechanism of the bell. At this he fortified himself with a course of Nutty Footballs and, standing on a chair, began ruthlessly to dismember the bell. He was disturbed by the entry of another customer. Swallowing a Nutty Football whole, he hastened to his post behind the counter.
The newcomer was a little girl of about ninea very dainty little girl, dressed in a white fur coat and cap and long white gaiters. Her hair fell in golden curls over her white fur shoulders. Her eyes were blue. Her cheeks were velvety and rosy. Her mouth was like a babys. William had seen this vision on various occasions in the town, but had never yet addressed it. Whenever he had seen it, his heart in the midst of his body had been even as melting wax. He smileda self-conscious, sheepish smile. His freckled face blushed to the roots of his short stubby hair. She seemed to find nothing odd in the fact of a small boy being in charge of a sweet-shop. She came up to the counter.
Please, I want two twopenny bars of chocolate.
Her voice was very clear and silvery.
Ecstasy rendered William speechless. His smile grew wider and more foolish. Seeing his two half-sucked Pineapple Crisps exposed upon the scales, he hastily put them into his mouth.
She laid four pennies on the counter.
William found his voice.
You can have lots for that, he said huskily. Theyve gone cheap. Theyve gone ever so cheap. You can take all the boxful for that, he went on recklessly. He pressed the box into her reluctant hands. Anwhat else would you like? You jus tell me that. Tell me what else youd like?
Please, I havent any more money, gasped a small, bewildered voice.
Money dont matter, said William. Things is cheap to-day. Things is awful cheap to-day. Awful cheap! You can haveanythin you like for that fourpence. Anythin you like.
Cause its New Years Day? said the vision, with a gleam of understanding.
Yes, said William, cause its that.
Is it your shop?
Yes, said William with an air of importance. Its all my shop.
She gazed at him in admiration and envy.
Id love to have a sweet-shop, she said wistfully.
Well, you take anythin you like, said William generously.
She collected as much as she could carry and started towards the door. Sank you! Sank you ever so! she said gratefully.
William stood leaning against the door in the easy attitude of the good-natured, all-providing male.
Its all right, he said with an indulgent smile. Quite all right. Quite all right. Then, with an inspiration born of memories of his father earlier in the day. Not at all. Dont menshun it. Not at all. Quite all right.
He stopped, simply for lack of further expressions, and bowed with would-be gracefulness as she went through the doorway.
As she passed the window she was rewarded by a spreading effusive smile in a flushed face.
She stopped and kissed her hand.
William blinked with pure emotion.
He continued his smile long after its recipient had disappeared. Then absent-mindedly he crammed his mouth with a handful of Mixed Dew Drops and sat down behind the counter.
As he crunched Mixed Dew Drops he indulged in a day dream in which he rescued the little girl in the white fur coat from robbers and pirates and a burning house. He was just leaping nimbly from the roof of the burning house, holding the little girl in the white fur coat in his arms, when he caught sight of two of his friends flattening their noses at the window. He rose from his seat and went to the door.
Ullo, Ginger! Ullo, Henry! he said with an unsuccessful effort to appear void of self-consciousness.
They gazed at him in wonder.
Ive gotta shop, he went on casually. Come on in an look at it.
They peeped round the door-way cautiously and, reassured by the sight of William obviously in sole possession, they entered, openmouthed. They gazed at the boxes and bottles of sweets. Aladdins Cave was nothing to this.
Howd you get it, William? gasped Ginger.
Someone gave it me, said William. I took one of them things to be plite an someone gave it me. Go on, he said kindly. Jus help yourselves. Not at all. Jus help yourselves an dont menshun it.
They needed no second bidding. With the unerring instinct of childhood (not unsupported by experience) that at any minute their Eden might be invaded by the avenging angel in the shape of a grown-up, they made full use of their time. They went from box to box, putting handfuls of sweets and chocolates into their mouths. They said nothing, simply because speech was, under the circumstances, a physical impossibility. Showing a foresight for the future, worthy of the noble ant itself, so often held up as a model to childhood, they filled pockets in the intervals of cramming their mouths.
A close observer might have noticed that William now ate little. William himself had been conscious for some time of a curious and inexplicable feeling of coldness towards the tempting dainties around him. He was, however, loth to give in to the weakness, and every now and then he nonchalantly put into his mouth a Toasted Square or a Fruity Bit.
It happened that a loutish boy of about fourteen was passing the shop. At the sight of three small boys rapidly consuming the contents, he became interested.
What yer doin of? he said indignantly, standing in the doorway.
You get out of my shop, said William valiantly.
Yer shop? said the boy. Yer bloomin well pinchin things out o someone elses shop, I can see. Ere, gimme some of them.
You get out! said William.
Get out yerself! said the other.
If Id not took one to be plite, said William threateningly, Id knock you down.
Yer would, would yer? said the other, beginning to roll up his sleeves.
Yes, an I would, too. You get out. Seizing the nearest bottle, which happened to contain Acid Drops, he began to fire them at his opponents head. One hit him in the eye. He retired into the street. William, now a-fire for battle, followed him, still hurling Acid Drops with all his might. A crowd of boys collected together. Some gathered Acid Drops from the gutter, others joined the scrimmage. William, Henry, and Ginger carried on a noble fight against heavy odds.
It was only the sight of the proprietor of the shop coming briskly down the side-walk that put an end to the battle. The street boys made off (with what spoils they could gather) in one direction and Ginger and Henry in another. William, clasping an empty Acid Drop bottle to his bosom, was left to face Mr. Moss.
Mr. Moss entered and looked round with an air of bewilderment.
Wheres Bill? he said.
Hes ill, said William. He couldnt come. Ive been keepin shop for you. Ive done the best I could. He looked round the rifled shop and hastened to propitiate the owner as far as possible. Ive got some money for you, he added soothingly, pointing to the four pennies that represented his mornings takings. Its not much, he went on with some truth, looking again at the rows of emptied boxes and half-emptied bottles and the débris that is always and everywhere the inevitable result of a battle. But Mr. Moss hardly seemed to notice it.
Thanks, William, he said almost humbly. William, shes took me. Shes goin ter marry me. Isnt it grand? After all these years!
Im afraid theres a bit of a mess, said William, returning to the more important matter.
Mr. Moss waved aside his apologies.
It doesnt matter, William, he said. Nothing matters to-day. Shes took me at last. Im goin to shut shop this afternoon and go over to her again. Thanks for staying, William.
Not at all. Dont menshun it, said William nobly. Then, I think Ive had enough of that bein plite. Will one mornin do for this year, dyou think?
Eryes. Well, Ill shut up. Dont you stay, William. Youll want to be getting home for lunch.
Lunch? Quite definitely William decided that he did not want any lunch. The very thought of lunch brought with it a feeling of active physical discomfort which was much more than mere absence of hunger. He decided to go home as quickly as possible, though not to lunch.
Goo-bye, he said.
Good-bye, said Mr. Moss.
Im afraid youll find some things gone, said William faintly; some boys was in.
Thats all right, William, said Mr. Moss, roused again from his rosy dreams. Thats quite all right.
But it was not quite all right with William. Reader, if you had been left, at the age of eleven, in sole charge of a sweet shop for a whole morning, would it have been all right with you? I trow not. But we will not follow William through the humiliating hours of the afternoon. We will leave him as, pale and unsteady, but as yet master of the situation, he wends his homeward way.