Free (9/20) Tyler's Row by Miss Read Page B

greenish one at Mrs Fowler's suggested that she was watching television. Sergeant Burnaby's glowed as orange as the moon, behind his buff curtains.
    'If only all four were empty!' thought Peter. 'If only we could start stage two!'
    If, if...
    His grandmother used to have some tart remark about 'ifs and buts getting you nowhere', he remembered. Maybe she was right. It was enough, for the moment, to be in Tyler's Row, to sleep under its thatch and to have his first meal-austere though that promised to be—in its kitchen.
    With a last look at the exterior of his domain, Peter turned to go indoors.

8. An Exhausting Evening
    'THEY'RE in then,' said Mr Willet as I crossed the playground to go into school. He was perched on a stepladder tying back the American pillar rose which scrambles over the side of the school, clashing hideously with the brickwork, but delighting us all with its bountiful growth.
    'Who are?'
    'Them new people. Hales. Schoolmaster up Caxley. Took Tyler's Row.'
    Mr Willet's staccato delivery was caused more by rhythmic lunges at a high shoot than by impatience with my stupidity.
    'Oh yes! I forgot they were moving in. Yesterday, wasn't it?'
    'And a nice day they had for it too,' said Mr Willet, coming down the ladder. 'Very lucky, they was. Not all plain sailing though, from what I hear. Them removable men was a bit slap-handed, and they found the underfelt after they'd put everything in the bedroom.'
    'Good lord!'
    'You might well say say so. Then their blessed cat run off in Caxley and they're having to fetch it today.'
    I began to wonder how Mr Willet knew all this. As if he guessed my thoughts, he spoke deprecatingly.
    'Not that I know much about it, of course. I'm not one to meddle in other folk's affairs, but you can't help over-hearing things in a village.'
    'So I've noticed,' I said, one hand on the school's door-handle.
    Mr Willet pointed roofwards.
    'Couple of sparrows making a nest up the end there. I suppose I dursen't pull it out?'
    'No indeed,' I said firmly. 'I like sparrows.'
    'Not many does,' commented Mr Willet.
    'I know. I can't think why. I once knew a kind, goodhearted man, very much respected everywhere, who used to catch sparrows and pull off their heads. Quite unlike him really.'
    'Very sensible he sounds,' said Mr Willet approvingly. 'They're pestses, is sparrows. Worse'n rats, I reckon.'
    'That's as maybe,' I replied, using one of Mrs Pringle's favourite phrases, 'but you can leave that nest alone.'
    My caretaker beamed indulgently, and I left the bright sunshine to enter Fairacre School, knowing that the sparrows would be spared.

    Later that morning, I decided it was too splendidly sunny to stay indoors, and bade the children dress and accompany me on a saunter round the village. The invitation was received with rapture.
    These occasional sorties are officially known as 'nature walks', and to make these outings seem more legitimate we collect such things as twigs, flowers, mosses, feathers, snail-shells and other natural objects to take back to the classroom for study. Naturally, other objects, far more attractive to the children have to be discarded.
    Cigarette cartons, bottle tops, nuts and bolts, crisp bags, lengths of wire, tubing, binder twine, broken plastic cups, pieces of glass from smashed windscreens and rear-lights and a hundred other manifestations of civilisation are collected, only to be thrown into the school dustbin, amidst general regret.
    This morning the April sunshine was really warm, a preview, as it were, of summer days to come. Enormous clouds towered into the blue sky above the downs, moving slowly and majestically in the light breeze. A bevy of larks mounted invisible stairs to heaven, letting fall a cascade of song as they climbed. Cats and dogs sunned themselves on cottage doorsteps, and here and there a budgerigar had been hung outside in its cage to enjoy the early warmth and fresh air.
    A red tractor, bright as a ladybird, crawled slowly up and down Mr