Free The Little Bookroom by Eleanor Farjeon Page A

ways.’
    â€˜If you went one way, what then?’
    â€˜There might be no need to dig a green grave.’
    â€˜And if you went the other?’
    Joe fondled the Clumber Pup’s lemon ears, and said, ‘That way might break my heart.’
    â€˜Should we dig your grave then?’
    â€˜I expect I’d get over it.’
    â€˜You’d not be the first,’ said Daddy, ‘to go through life with a mended heart; but once a grave is digged, it’s digged.’
    â€˜All right,’ said Joe.
    He went out to his work, whistling to his pup to follow him, and when the day was done he made for the Princess a better faggot than he had ever made before, and tied his pup to it. The Clumber looked at him with mournful eyes, and tried to follow Joe home, dragging the faggot behind him. But Joe Jolly said, ‘Stay there!’ and went away quickly through the forest.
VIII
    That was the saddest month Joe ever lived through. He tried to be cheerful for Daddy’s sake and the spaniel’s, but Daddy himself was extra quiet, the spaniel moped for her pup, and Joe had to bear his own broken heart. On the last day of the month, when June was at her zenith, and the forest was rich with sunshine, Daddy said, ‘Joe, a man can’t work all the year round all his lifetime. Take a holiday!’
    â€˜What would I do with it?’ asked Joe.
    â€˜Go to the city and see the sights.’
    Then it occurred to Joe that among the sights of the city was his own sweet pup. The mere thought of looking into his brown eyes and hearing his gay excited bark again made Joe’s heart as light as a feather. He decided to follow Daddy’s advice; his work was well in hand, and he could spare the day.
    So off he set, and once out of the forest was amazed at the crowds on the road, until he remembered that this was the day of the Assembly. He allowed himself to be swept along on the stream towards the palace; for everybody had a right there on this day, and there, if anywhere, he would see his pup. It was with an eager heart he passed, for the second time, under the royal gateway, and entered the throne-room with the rest of the crowd.
    The court was all assembled; from the middle of the crush, Joe could just manage to see the heads of the King and Queen, and the tops of the soldiers’ pikes. A trumpet sounded, and a herald cried for silence. When this was obtained, he shouted:
    â€˜If any man present knows what the Princess wants, let him say so!’
    But before a word could be spoken, the voice of the Princess called out, as gay as sunshine in the leaves, ‘There is no need, for what I want I have!’
    â€˜What is it?’ asked the King.
    â€˜Who gave it to you?’ asked the Queen.
    â€˜I will neither say what it is nor who gave it to me,’ said the Princess. ‘Let everybody go.’
    The herald blew his trumpet and dismissed the crowd. As it dispersed, Joe was left standing in the middle of the floor, in view of the great double throne, with the Princess seated at the King’s feet, the honey cat in her arms, and crouched against her knee the Clumber Pup. Suddenly there was a yelp of joy, the pup leapt into the air, bounded across the floor, placed his gleaming paws on Joe’s two shoulders, and licked his face, whining and barking as though his heart would burst. Joe hugged him, and wept.
    Then what a commotion in the court! Everybody asked, ‘What is it? Who is it? What is happening?’ The Princess rose, looking over the head of her honey cat, half smiling and half crying, and the King demanded, ‘Who are you?’
    â€˜I’m your Royal Woodman,’ said Joe.
    â€˜Why, so I remember! But the dog goes to you as to his master.’
    â€˜He was his master,’ said the Princess, ‘but now I am. This boy gave him to me, because what I wanted was the Clumber Pup.’
    â€˜Then I can at last make good my word!’ said the King. He