Free Aunt Effie's Ark by Jack Lasenby Page A

Peter asked Daisy.
    â€œThis morning I lifted a mat and found the Underground Letterbox. By the powers entrusted in me by the Minister of Education,” said Daisy, “I have been appointed your teacher for the Underground Correspondence School.” She whacked the table twice: Whack! Whack!
    â€œWho’s the Minister of Education?”
    â€œThe Prime Minister,” said Daisy.
    â€œAnd who’s the headmaster of the Underground Correspondence School?”
    â€œThe Prime Minister!”
    â€œBut the Prime Minister’s hibernating!”
    â€œShe left instructions!” said Daisy. “Sit down!” she told Peter. “You all have three months’ lessons to catch up. Anyone who misbehaves or doesn’t do his homework or has dirty nails or hasn’t cleaned his teeth or his shoes, or who gets his sums or his spelling wrong, or who answers back, anyone like that will get the cuts!” Daisy struck the table: Whack! Whack! Whack!
    â€œAnd anyone who wets the floor with Number Ones will get a double dose!” Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! At once all the little ones cried and piddled their pants till it dripped on to the floor.
    â€œWhere did the desks and the table come from?” asked Peter so Daisy wouldn’t notice.
    â€œFrom the Underground Correspondence School!” said Daisy. “And the strap, and the blackboard, andthe chalk, and the ink powder, and a new set of School Journals.”
    We all cheered. We loved reading the School Journal.
    â€œDon’t think I’m going to go giving out new School Journals to anyone who can’t do his sums and can’t spell and can’t behave himself.” Daisy whacked the table and looked at Alwyn.
    â€œWho can’t behave himself,” he repeated.
    â€œDon’t you dare answer me back!”
    â€œAnswer me back!”
    â€œI’m in charge!”
    â€œIn charge!”
    â€œHow dare you?”
    â€œDare you!”
    â€œHold out your hand!”
    â€œYour hand!”
    Daisy’s mouth went all wizened with pleated lines around her lips. She hiccuped, sniffed, and cried. Marie took off her panama hat and led her away. Peter threw the strap on the fire. “We know everyone’s here,” he said and threw the attendance roll on the fire, too, and Ann and Beck helped the little ones change into dry pants.

Chapter Eight
What Happened to the Stuffed Heads
    We read the new School Journals while Marie taught the little ones their alphabet. Peter let Daisy ring the bell for lunch.
    â€œDing-ding-ding-ding!”
    â€œThank you, Daisy.”
    â€œDing-ding-ding-ding-ding!”
    â€œThat’ll do, Daisy.”
    â€œDing-ding-ding-ding-ding-ding!”
    â€œI said that’ll do, Daisy!” Peter had to take the bell off her.
    We sat in our desks and unwrapped the lunches Marie and Peter had made for us. While we swapped our dry peanut butter sandwiches for dry Vegemite sandwiches, Peter looked through the peep-hole.
    â€œI can’t see the Tattooed Wolf,” he said, “but we won’t go outside till there’s been no sign of him for a couple of weeks.”
    â€œWhy does the Tattooed Wolf keep calling Aunt Effie The Name We Dare Not Say?” asked Jared.
    â€œI heard him, too,” said Casey. Lizzie and Jessie both nodded.
    Peter looked at Marie. “What about a game of kingaseeny ?” she said very loudly.
    One foot at a time, Peter and Marie walked towards each other, picking up for who would go in the middle, and we played kingaseeny up and down Aunt Effie’s enormous kitchen for the rest of lunchtime. We had school again from one till three. We did arithmetic: long division of pounds, shillings, and pence for the bigger kids, and playing around with blocks for the little ones.
    That night, Lizzie and Jessie taught the small pig his alphabet, and Daisy made the geese stand in a row and answer, “Present!”