“Plain as your nose,” said Billy Blunt. “Golden jubilee means fifty years, like your Golden Wedding business. They’re having a concert to celebrate. Thought you might be interested.”

  And then, suddenly, Milly-Molly-Mandy was very interested.

  “You mean we might do something like that for Grandpa and Grandma? Oh, Billy! what a good idea. What can we do?”

  But Billy Blunt only said: “Oh, it was just an idea.”

  And he went off to exchange foreign stamps with a friend of his, Timmy Biggs. So Milly-Molly-Mandy looked for little-friend-Susan to tell her.

  “But what could we do for a concert?” asked little-friend-Susan. “We can’t play or anything.”

  But Milly-Molly-Mandy said (like Mother): “We shall have to think, Susan!”

  The Golden Wedding meant a lot of thinking for everybody – Father and Mother and Uncle and Aunty as well.

  Mother had the first idea. She said (while Grandpa and Grandma were out of the way):

  “I shall make a big golden wedding-cake, iced with yellow icing, and trimmed with gold hearts and a gold paper frill. We’ll have a Golden Wedding tea-party!”

  Father and Uncle and Aunty and Milly-Molly-Mandy thought that was a grand idea!

  After school next morning Milly-Molly-Mandy and little-friend-Susan and Billy Blunt looked in Miss Muggins’ shop window to see if there was anything interesting there besides socks and dusters and underclothes.

  “There’s a little gold bell with a handle on that shelf – see,” said Milly-Molly-Mandy, “and pins with gold heads.”

  “Those yellow pencils with gold tops look quite cheap,” said little-friend-Susan, “and that Happy Returns card with gold print!”

  (Really, there seemed quite a number of gold things if you kept your eyes open!)

  Billy Blunt looked carefully, but said nothing.

  “Have you thought what you can do at the concert?” Milly-Molly-Mandy asked him.

  “What concert?” said Billy Blunt.

  “Our Golden Wedding concert, of course!” said Milly-Molly-Mandy.

  “Huh!” said Billy Blunt. And then he said: “Better call a meeting and make plans.”

  “Ooh, yes let’s!” said Milly-Molly-Mandy and little-friend-Susan together. And Milly-Molly-Mandy added, “Somewhere secret, where Grandpa and Grandma won’t know!”

  Billy Blunt said they might come to his place after tea on Saturday; his folk would be in the corn-shop, and they could plan in private there.

  So directly after tea on Saturday Milly-Molly-Mandy met little-friend-Susan at the Moggs’ gate, and they ran together down to the village, and through the gate at the side of the corn-shop, and up the garden path into the Blunts’ house.

  “Oh, it’s you,” said Billy Blunt (as if he wasn’t expecting them).

  Milly-Molly-Mandy hadn’t seen inside the Blunts’ sitting-room before, only in the corn-shop. It was small and rather dark, but very cosy, with a thick red cloth on the table.

  “Sit down,” said Billy Blunt. “The meeting’s begun. I’m President, as it’s my house.”

  “But it’s my Golden Wedding,” Milly-Molly-Mandy told him.

  They laughed at that (because Milly-Molly-Mandy didn’t look over fifty), and then they felt more at home.

  Billy Blunt thumped on the table, and said, “Order, now!”

  And they settled down to thinking what they could do about a concert.

  They couldn’t play the piano, though there was one which Aunty played on at the nice white cottage with the thatched roof (where, of course, Milly-Molly-Mandy lived). Billy Blunt had an old mouth-organ, but it was broken. And little-friend-Susan had a dulcimer, but her baby sister played with it and half the notes were gone.

  “Then we’ll have to make up things,” said Milly-Molly-Mandy. “I can play a comb and tissue-paper!”

  “Saucepan lids make awfully nice clappers,” said little-friend-Susan.

  Billy Blunt reached down and picked up the shovel and poker from the fireplace and started hitting them together, till Milly-Molly-Mandy and little-friend-Susan shouted at him that Grandpa and Grandma wouldn’t like that one bit! So then he put the shovel to his shoulder and sawed up and down it with the poker, singing, “Tweedle-tweedle-tweedle,” exactly as if he were playing the violin!

  Milly-Molly-Mandy and little-friend-Susan did wish they had thought of that first!

  “Well!” said Milly-Molly-Mandy. “We can have a band, and then we’ll recite something. What can we say?”

  “Let’s write a poem,” said little-friend-Susan.

  So they thought awhile. And then Milly-Molly-Mandy said:

  “Dear Grandpa and Grandma, we want to say

  We wish you a happy Golden Wedding Day!”

  “Bit long,” said Billy Blunt.

  “But it rhymes,” said Milly-Molly-Mandy.

  “Yes, it does,” said little-friend-Susan. “Can’t we get in something about Many Happy Returns?”

  “Can you have returns of Golden Weddings?” asked Milly-Molly-Mandy. “I thought you only had one.”

  “You could have one every fifty years, I expect,” said Billy Blunt. “You’d be a bit old by next time, though!”

  “Well, we’d like Grandpa and Grandma to have heaps of Golden Weddings, till they were millions of years old!” said Milly-Molly-Mandy.

  So they thought again, and added:

  “We want you to know our heart all burns

  To wish you Many Happy Returns.”

  Billy Blunt wrote it down on a piece of paper, and while the others tried to think up some more he went on scribbling for a bit. Then he read out loudly:

  “We hope you like this little stunt,

  Done by Mister William Blunt!”

  There was a lot of shouting at that, as the others, of course, wanted to have their names in too! They made so much noise that Mrs Blunt looked in from the corn-shop to see what was up.

  Billy Blunt said: “Sorry, Mum!” And they went on with the meeting in whispers.

  Well, the great day arrived.

  Only a few special people were invited to the party, but there seemed quite a crowd – Grandpa and Grandma, Father and Mother, Uncle and Aunty, Mr Moggs and Mrs Moggs (their nearest neighbours), little-friend-Susan and Baby Moggs (who couldn’t be left behind), Billy Blunt (by special request), and, of course, Milly-Molly-Mandy.

  Mother and Aunty between them had prepared a splendid tea, with the big decorated Golden Wedding cake in the centre, and buttered scones, and brown and white bread-and-butter and honey, and apricot jam, and lemon-curd tarts, and orange buns (everything as nearly golden-coloured as possible, of course) arranged round it.

  But before Mother filled the teapot everybody had to give Grandpa and Grandma their golden presents. (Milly-Molly-Mandy and little-friend-Susan and Billy Blunt were all very interested to see what everyone was giving!)

  Well, Mr and Mrs Moggs gave a beautiful gilt basket tied with gold ribbons, full of lovely yellow chrysanthemums.

  Father and Mother gave a pair of real gold cuff-links to Grandpa, and a little gold locket (with a photo of Milly-Molly-Mandy inside) to Grandma.

  MOTHER AND AUNTY BETWEEN THEM HAD PREPARED A SPLENDID TEA

  Uncle and Aunty gave a gold coin to hang on Grandpa’s watch-chain, and a thin gold neck-chain for Grandma’s locket.

  And then it was time for Milly-Molly-Mandy and little-friend-Susan and Billy Blunt to give their presents.

  They stood in a row, and Billy Blunt lifted his shovel-and-poker violin, and Milly-Molly-Mandy her comb-and-tissue-paper mouth-organ, and little-friend-Susan her saucepan-lid clappers; and they played and sang, hummed and clashed, Happy Birthday to You! only instead of “birthday” they sang, “Happy Golden Wedding to you!”

  And then they shouted their own poem all together:

  “Dear Grandpa and Grandma, we want to say

  We wish you a happy Golden Wedding Day.

  We want you to know our heart all burns

  To wish you Many Happy Returns.

  We hope you like our little stunt,

  From Milly-Molly-Mandy, Susan, and Billy Blunt!”

  Grandpa and Grandma were nearly overcome, and everybody clapped as the three gave their presents then: two long yellow pencils with brass ends (which looked like gold) from little-friend-Susan; two “Golden-Glamour Sachets” from Billy Blunt; and a little gold bell to ring whenever they wanted her from Milly-Molly-Mandy.

  Grandpa and Grandma WERE pleased!

  There was quite a bit of talk over Billy Blunt’s sachets, though, as he had thought they were scent sachets, but the others said they were shampoos for golden hair, and, of course Grandpa’s and Grandma’s hair was white!

  However, Grandma said her sachet smelled so delicious she would keep it among her handkerchiefs, and Grandpa could do the same with his. So that was all right.

  Then they had tea, and Grandpa and Grandma cut big slices of their Golden Wedding cake, with a shiny gilt heart for everybody.

  Afterwards Grandpa made quite a long speech. But all Grandma could say was that she thought such a lovely Golden Wedding was well worth waiting fifty years for!

  So then Milly-Molly-Mandy and little-friend-Susan and Billy Blunt knew they had really and truly helped in making it such a splendid occasion!

  5

  Milly-Molly-Mandy Cooks a Dinner

  Once upon a time Milly-Molly-Mandy was coming home after morning school with little-friend-Susan and Billy Blunt.

  They were all talking about what they might be going to have for their dinners (feeling very hungry at that time, of course), and about the sort of things they liked and the sort of things they didn’t like.

  Billy Blunt said he didn’t like turnips or parsnips, and little-friend-Susan said she didn’t like potatoes or carrots. Milly-Molly-Mandy said what she didn’t like was stew, with bits of meat and vegetables floating in it. And Billy Blunt and little-friend-Susan agreed that that was just what they didn’t like either. They all hoped none of them would have stew for dinner that day!

  (They needn’t have worried, for none of them did.)

  The next day was Saturday, and there was no school. So Milly-Molly-Mandy stayed around the nice white cottage with the thatched roof, helping Father in the garden.

  Father was very busy, digging up potatoes and cutting down dead plants and burning rubbish on a big bonfire. So Milly-Molly-Mandy was very busy too, sweeping up leaves and picking up tools which Father dropped and throwing bits on to the bonfire.

  (Autumn is a very busy time in a garden.)

  Presently little-friend-Susan came wandering up the road, wondering what Milly-Molly-Mandy was doing. She saw the smoke, so she peeped over the hedge outside the nice white cottage with the thatched roof.

  “Hullo, Susan!” called Milly-Molly-Mandy. “Look at our bonfire! You’d better come and help me to help Father!”

  So little-friend-Susan ran in at the gate and round to the back garden. And soon the two of them were very busy, throwing bits on to the bonfire.

  Presently Billy Blunt came wandering up the road, wondering (rather) what Milly-Molly-Mandy was doing. He saw the smoke too, and looked over the hedge outside the nice white cottage with the thatched roof.

  “Hullo, Billy!” called Milly-Molly-Mandy. “Look, it’s a bonfire! Come and help us to help Father!”

  So Billy Blunt walked in at the gate and round to the back garden. And soon all three of them were very busy throwing bits on to the bonfire.

  (But somehow, Father thought, three people together weren’t half so helpful as one person alone!)

  The bonfire puffed big, beautiful clouds of smoke out, and, whichever side they stood it seemed trying to puff right into their faces. Milly-Molly-Mandy and little-friend-Susan and Billy Blunt had to keep running round to one side or another as they threw on bits of twig and dead leaves.

  “Tell you what,” said Billy Blunt, after a while, “if we had some chestnuts we could roast them.”

  But they hadn’t any chestnuts so they couldn’t.

  “I wonder what else there is we could cook,” said Milly-Molly-Mandy, looking about.

  And then she noticed a heap of straggly old bean-plants waiting to be burned, and they had a few big bean-pods still hanging on here and there.

  “Oh look!” said Milly-Molly-Mandy; “perfectly good beans!”

  “Can’t we cook them?” said little-friend-Susan.

  “You can’t eat those,” said Billy Blunt. “Too old.”

  “Maybe you can’t eat them at table,” said Milly-Molly-Mandy, “but if we cook them ourselves on the bonfire maybe we could!”

  So they all searched for bean-pods and opened them, and they got quite a handful of lovely big purple-speckled beans.

  “What do we cook them in?” said Milly-Molly-Mandy.

  “They’ll need a lot of boiling,” said little-friend-Susan.

  “You want a tin can, like tramps have!” said Billy Blunt.

  That was a bright idea. So Milly-Molly-Mandy ran indoors to ask Mother, and Mother gave her an empty treacle-tin with a lid. They washed it well under the pump, and put the beans in with some clean water, and set it on the bonfire to boil. They had to watch it, because when the fire blazed up the tin fell over, and Billy Blunt had to rescue it with the gardening-fork. It boiled till the lid blew off. And then Billy Blunt (who was beginning to feel hungry) said:

  “I should think they’re done now.”

  So they emptied the tin out on to the ground and divided the beans. They were quite soft inside, so they peeled the skins off, and ate them rather like chestnuts. They did enjoy them!

  When Father came along with another load of weeds and brambles to put on the bonfire and saw what they were doing, he said:

  “Ah, if you want real gipsy cooking there’s nothing to beat a good hot potato, baked in its jacket!” And he pointed to the wheelbarrow full of newly dug potatoes, and added, “Help yourselves – only don’t waste them.”

  Milly-Molly-Mandy and little-friend-Susan and Billy Blunt were pleased! They helped themselves to two potatoes each, and Father showed how to bury them in the hot ashes under the bonfire.

  “You’ll have to leave them for a good half-hour and more,” he said, as he went off.

  It seemed an awfully long time to wait. They were all feeling very hungry by now.

  “Tell you what,” said Billy Blunt, “we ought to get some salt and butter to eat with those potatoes when they’re done.”

  “Oo, yes!” said little-friend-Susan, “we ought.”

  “Let’s ask Mother,” said Milly-Molly-Mandy.

  So they went into the kitchen, where Mother was putting a pie into the oven and Aunty was laying the table.

  “Please,” said Milly-Molly-Mandy, “could we have just a bit of butter and salt to eat with our baked potatoes out there?”

  “Goodness me!” said Mother. “Whatever next?”

  “They’ll spoil their dinners next,” said Aunty.

  “Oh, we won’t – truly – we’re so dreadfully hungry!” said Milly-Molly-Mandy.

  And little-friend-Susan and Billy Blunt said: “Yes, we are!”

  “But dinner will be ready in half an hour,” said Mother.

  “Oh, dear – so will our potatoes be!” said Milly-Molly-Mandy.

  “They’re cooking under the bonfire,” said little-friend-Susan.

  “We’re not to waste them,” said Billy Blunt.

  Then Milly-Molly-Mandy had a bright idea.

  “Mother, couldn’t you let us cook our own dinners all by ourselves out on the bonfire, just for once? It would be such fun! Please! Couldn’t we, Mother?”

  “Yes!” said little-friend-Susan and Billy Blunt.

  “But what would your mothers say if you don’t go home to a proper dinner?” Mother asked them.

  “We could go and ask,” said little-friend-Susan and Billy Blunt at once.

  “Well,” said Mother, “if Mrs Moggs and Mrs Blunt don’t object I suppose you may, just this once.”

  So little-friend-Susan and Billy Blunt rushed off to ask permission while Milly-Molly-Mandy borrowed a saucepan (one that didn’t matter very much), and some old cooking-plates and spoons, and some bread, and salt, and butter (margarine really).

  Mother gave her some scraps of meat, and told her to help herself to whichever vegetables she wanted from the box in the scullery. So Milly-Molly-Mandy helped herself to some of everything – onions, carrots, parsnips – and carried all outside in readiness.

  Very soon little-friend-Susan came running back, saying her mother didn’t mind if Milly-Molly-Mandy’s mother didn’t. And she brought a strip of bacon in a paper.

  Then Billy Blunt came panting back (he had farther to go), saying his mother made no objection if he chose to miss a proper dinner this once. And he brought a sausage on an old fork.

  Father had made the bonfire burn up till it was mostly just a heap of red-hot ashes now. Then he went indoors to have his dinner. And the three of them stayed outdoors, and got to work cooking their own.

  Milly-Molly-Mandy cut up vegetables into the saucepan, with scraps of meat and some water, and set it on top of the fire to boil. Little-friend-Susan toasted bacon on a stick. And Billy Blunt toasted sausage on a fork.

  Then they remembered the potatoes, and Milly-Molly-Mandy started poking about in the ashes. Little-friend-Susan was so busy watching her that she let her bacon catch fire; and Billy Blunt was so busy grinning to see her blowing it out that he didn’t notice his own sausage burning until the others shouted at him! After a good scraping the bit of bacon and the sausage were added to the stew to finish cooking while the potatoes were got out.

  “Aren’t they beautifully done!” said Milly-Molly-Mandy, brushing their skins on the grass.

  “Aren’t they hot!” said little-friend-Susan, sucking her fingers.

  “Let’s begin!” said Billy Blunt.

  So, as they were all frightfully hungry by now and the stew wasn’t quite done, they each took a hot baked potato in their hands and broke it open, and put in a dab of butter and a pinch of salt, and ate it out of its skin – like that, standing round the bonfire.

 

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