Free The Secret Island by Enid Blyton Page A

we haven’t drunk all the milk yet that Daisy gave us this morning!”
    “Put it into a dish and pop it in the hen-yard,” said Jack. “Maybe the hens will like it!”
    In the pouring rain Jack milked Daisy the cow. Soon all the saucepans and the kettle and bowls were full! Really, thought Jack, he simply must get that old milking-pail that the girls had told him of at their Aunt’s farm. It was such a tiring business milking a cow like this.
    When the milking was finished, Jack took Daisy back to her grassy field on the other side of the island. Mike went to Willow House where the two girls were. It was dark there, and the sound of rain drip-drip-dripping from the trees all around sounded rather miserable.
    Mike and the two girls sat in the front part of Willow House and waited for Jack. Mike was very wet, and he shivered.
    “Poor old Jack will be wet through, too,” he said. “Feel this milk, girls. It’s as warm as can be. Let’s drink some and it will warm us up. We can’t boil any, for we haven’t a fire.”
    Jack came to Willow House dripping wet. But he was grinning away as usual. Nothing ever seemed to upset Jack.
    “Hallo, hallo!” he said. “I’m as wet as a fish! Peggy, where did we put those clothes of mine that I brought to the island last night?”
    “Oh yes!” cried Peggy, in delight. “Of course! You and Mike can change into those.”
    “Well, I don’t know about that,” said Mike. “Jack only brought three old vests, a shirt or two, and an overcoat.”
    “Well, we can wear a vest each, and a shirt, and I’ll wear the overcoat, and you can wrap the old blanket I brought all round you!” said Jack.
    The boys took off their wet clothes and changed into the dry ones. “I’ll hang your wet ones out to dry as soon as the rain stops,” said Peggy, squeezing the rain out of them.
    “I can’t see a thing here,” said Mike, buttoning up his shirt all wrong.
    “Well, light the lantern, silly,” said Jack. “What do you suppose the candles are for? Nora, find the lantern and light it. It may want a new candle inside. You know where you put the candles, don’t you? Over in that corner somewhere.”
    Nora found the lantern. It did want a new candle inside. She found a box of matches and lighted the candle. Mike hung the lantern up on a nail he had put in the roof. It swung there, giving a dim but cheerful light to the little party huddled inside Willow House.
    “This really feels like a house now,” said Nora, pleased. “I do like it. It’s very cosy. Not a drop of rain is coming through our roof or the walls.”
    “And not a scrap of wind!” said Jack. “That shows how well we packed the walls with heather and bracken. Listen to the wind howling outside! We shouldn’t like to be out in that! What a good thing we’ve got Willow House to live in! Our outdoor bedroom wouldn’t be at all comfortable tonight!”
    The thunderstorm broke overhead. The thunder crashed around as if someone were moving heavy furniture up in the sky.
    “Hallo! Someone’s dropped a wardrobe, I should think!” said Jack, when an extra heavy crash came!
    “And there goes a grand piano tumbling down the stairs!” said Mike, at another heavy rumble. Everyone laughed. Really, the thunderstorm did sound exactly like furniture being thrown about.
    The lightning flashed brightly, lighting up the inside of Willow House. Nora was not sure that she liked it. She cuddled up to Mike. “I feel a bit frightened,” she said.
    “Don’t be silly!” said Mike. “You’re as bad as those women trippers over the bats! There’s nothing to be frightened of. A storm is a grand thing. We’re perfectly safe here.”
    “A storm is just a bit of weather being noisy!” laughed Jack. “Cheer up, Nora. We’re all right. You can think you’re lucky you’re not Daisy the cow. After all, we do know that a storm is only a storm, but she doesn’t.”
    Crash! Rumble! Crash! The thunder roared away, and the children made a joke of it, inventing all kinds of furniture tumbling about the sky, as each