Unit 2

TEXT I

Unwillingly on Holiday

Text

Not all holidays are seen as pleasurable occasions. Sometimes going on holiday can be something to be dreaded. Partly it could be the change from the known routine, going somewhere where you are uncertain of what is expected or what you will find. Some people find this an exciting new experience; others face it with dread. Read the following account. What would your feelings be about going somewhere new on holiday?
If, standing alone on the back doorstep, Tom allowed himself to weep tears, they were tears of anger. He looked his good-bye at the garden, and raged that he had to leave it — leave it and Peter. They had planned to spend their time here so joyously these holidays.
Town gardens are small, as a rule, and the Longs' garden was no exception to the rule; there was a vegetable plot and a grass plot and one flower-bed and a rough patch by the back fence. In this last the apple-tree grew: it was large, but bore very little fruit, and accordingly the two boys had always been allowed to climb freely over it. These holidays they would have built a tree-house among its branches.
Tom gazed, and then turned back into the house. As he passed the foot of the stairs, he called up. "Good-bye, Peter!" There was a croaking answer.
He went out on to the front doorstep, where his mother was waiting with his suitcase. He put his hand out for it, but Mrs. Long clung to the case for a moment, claiming his attention first. "You know, Tom," she said, "it's not nice for you to be rushed away like this to avoid the measles, but it's not nice for us either. Your father and I will miss you, and so will Peter. Peter's not having a nice time, anyway, with measles."
"I didn't say you'd all be having a nice time without me," said Tom. "All I said was —"
"Hush!" whispered his mother, looking past him to the road and the car that waited there and the man at the driving-wheel. She gave Tom the case, and then bent over him, pushing his tie up to cover his collar-button and letting her lips come to within an inch of his ear. "Tom, dear Tom —" she murmured, trying to prepare him for the weeks ahead, "remember that you will be a visitor, and do try — oh, what can I say? — try to be good."
She kissed him, gave him a dismissive push towards the car and then followed him to it. As Tom got in, Mrs. Long looked past him to the driver. "Give my love to Gwen," she said, "and tell her, Alan, how grateful we are to you both for taking Tom off at such short notice. It's very kind of you, isn't it, Tom?"
"Very kind," Tom repeated bitterly.
"There's so little room in the house," said Mrs. Long, "when there's illness."
"We're glad to help out," Alan said. He started the engine.
Tom wound down the window next to his mother. "Good-bye then!"
"Oh, Tom!" Her lips trembled. "I am sorry — spoiling the beginning of your summer holidays like this!"
The car was moving; he had to shout back: "I'd rather have had measles with Peter — much rather!"
Tom waved good-bye angrily to his mother, and then, careless even of the cost to others waved to an inflamed face pressed against a bedroom window. Mrs. Long looked upwards to see what was there, raised her hands in a gesture of despair — Peter was supposed to keep strictly to his bed — and hurried indoors.
Tom closed the car window and sat back in his seat, in hostile silence. His uncle cleared his throat and said: "Well, I hope we get on reasonably well."
This was not a question, so Tom did not answer it.
He knew he was being rude, but he made excuses for himself; he did not much like Uncle Alan, and he did not want to like him at all. Indeed, he would have preferred him to be a brutal uncle. "If only he'd beat me," thought Tom, "then I could run away home, and Mother and Father would say I did right, in spite of the quarantine for measles. But he'll never even try to beat me, I know; and Aunt Gwen — she's worse because she's a child-lover, and she's kind. Cooped up for weeks with Uncle Alan and Aunt Gwen in a poky flat..." He had never visited them before, but he knew that they lived in a flat, with no garden.

From Tom's Midnight Garden by Philippa Pearce

TEXT II

April Fools' Day

The first day of April ranks among the most joyous days in the juvenile calendar.
"It is a day when you hoax friends of yours with jokes like sending them to the shop for some pigeon's milk, or telling them to dig a hole because the dog has died; when they come back and ask where is the dead dog you say 'April fool' and laugh at them. There are some when you just say 'Your shoe lace is undone' or 'Your belt is hanging' or 'Go and fetch that plate off the table', and of course their shoe lace is tied up right, and their belt is not hanging, and there is no plate on the table, so you say 'Ever been had, April fool'."
Boy, 14, Knighton.

"On April the first we try to trick people by saying things such as there is a gost behind you or there's a spider up your slev and so on. We also say fings to friten people by saying the bed has give way, or the pituer has fullen down and so on. If the people look you call them an April fool, if they do not look they sometimes call you an April fool."
Girl, 9, Birmingham.

"On April Fools' day nearly all the time people fooled us. Last April I said to my brother 'And so everyone must keep in till next January 28th.' Then Brian said 'Why Dave, because there's a disease going on?' and I said to him 'No, because it's April Fool to you.' Then Dicky Riley said that he was looking for us to have our dinner. So off we set towards home and when we got there I told my mom what Dick had said, and mom said she had only just put the chips on. Suddenly Sailor our dog gave a low growl that was the sign that someone was at the door. I went to the door and who do you think was there, it was Dickly Riley coming to say April Fool."
Boy, 9, Birmingham.

Needless to say the people they most want to fool are the people who have just fooled them. "Arriving at school," writes a 12-year-old Longton girl:
"Elizabeth Arnold caught me with one of her witty jokes. 'Ah, ah,' I said. 'You wait until I can think of one.' At play time a grand idea had struck me. I went up to Liz and said, 'Elizabeth, Miss Buxton wants you.' 'Alright,' she said and ran into school. She walked all the way round the school and finally found Miss Buxton. Miss Buxton told her she did not want her. Liz was awfully sneapt (put out). She came back to me, and so I said 'April Fool'."
Teachers come in for their share of the fooling, and, according to a 12-year-old girl from Usk, Monmouthshire, are the most exciting prey:
"The best joke I ever saw was in school when one of our girls brought another girl dressed as our new needlework mistress into the form room. She was introduced to mistress who was taking us, and she was completely taken in. She even told us to stop laughing at the new mistress. Then we shouted 'April Fool' to her and we all had a good laugh."
And parents, of course, are not exempt. "We have a lovely time," says an 11-year-old Swansea girl, "as there are so many jokes to play such as sewing up the bottom of Daddy's trousers." And a 9-year-old Birmingham boy writes:
"Last year I fooled father by glueing a penny to the floor and saying 'Dad, you've dropped a penny on the floor.' He couldn't get it off the ground because it was stuck firm, then I shouted 'Yah, April Fool'."