Back to the Secret Seven...
I've been reading a few books in one sitting over the last few days.
Read this one today:
Burgess Sharrocks makes the shed look humongous!
It was very pleasant next day to turn out the old shed and make it tidy and clean. Gardener popped his
head in at the door, grunted and went away again, nodding his head in approval of all the tidying up
going on.
‘ ’Bout time too,’ they heard him mutter as he went up the path. Janet looked round the clean shed,
pleased with their work. Boxes to sit on — mugs on the little shelf, ready for any drinks that were
brought — seven little plastic plates for the biscuits, one for each member — the tin itself standing
proudly on a little box of its own — and an old, rather raggedy rug on the earth floor.
‘Nice!’ said Janet. ‘The shed smells a bit of apples, doesn’t it, Peter — there were some stored here
in the winter, you know. I’ve put the S.S. on the door. It’s a pity the shed has such a small window, it
makes it rather dark in here. But it’s not dark enough for candles, is it?’
‘No,’ said Peter. ‘Anyway, Mother gets scared if we have candles down here — says Scamper is
sure to knock one over and then up would go the shed in flames, and . . .’
The Secret Seven aren't too fussy, just a small raggedy rug is fine for them.
No candles allowed...
But, in the book below naked flame candles, fireworks and mad dogs are all mixed up together in the Summerhouse:
Jack looked in his note-book. When was the next meeting? To-morrow night, in Peter's shed.
Well, that would be quite exciting, because all the members had been told to bring any fireworks they
had managed to buy for Bonfire Night—it would be fun looking through them all.
They finished up absolutely everything on the tea-table. There wasn't even a piece of the big
cherry cake left! Scamper, who had also been asked to tea, had his own dish of dog-biscuits with
shrimp paste on each. He was simply delighted, and crunched them up non-stop.
"Now we'll go to the summer-house. We'd
better take a candle it's so dark already," said Colin. " And don't forget your coats, everyone! "
" And the fireworks," said Peter.
So down they all went to the little wooden summer-house, carrying their fireworks. The house
had a wooden bench running all round it, and smelt a bit damp. Nobody minded that. It was such a
nice secret place to talk in, down at the bottom of the dark garden.
The candle was stuck in a bottle and lighted. There was no shelf to put it on, so Colin stood it in
the middle of the floor.
"Have to be careful of Scamper knocking it over! " said Peter. " Where is he ? "
" He's gone into the kitchen to make love to our cook," said Colin. "She's cooking a stew or
something, and Scamper smelt it. He'll be along soon. Now—stack the fireworks under the wooden
bench for the time being. That's right. We'll go through them when we've had the meeting."
Alas!
CHAPTER TWELVE
Oh, What a Pity!
COLIN and Jack took the bundles of fireworks out from under the wooden bench of the
summer-house. The Seven then knelt down on the floor to undo the parcels and the boxes. What a
lovely job!
"I wish we had a better light than just this flickering candle on the floor," said Pam. "It's
difficult to read the names of the fireworks! "
As they all bent over the fireworks by the light of the candle, they heard the sound of a bark, and
then scampering feet. Scamper had been let out of the kitchen door and was coming to find his friends.
Where were they ? Wuff! Wuff!
"Scamper!" called Janet from the summer-house. "We're here!"
Scamper tore down the garden path, barking madly. Anyone would think he had been away from
the seven children for a whole month, not just half an hour!
He rushed straight into the little summer-house —and over went the bottle with the lighted
candle in its neck! Crash!
"You idiot, Scamper," said Peter and reached to set the bottle upright again. The candle was
still alight.
But before he could take hold of it, the flame of the candle had licked against a bundle of
fireworks—they were alight! And not only were they alight, but they were fizzing and spluttering!
" They're going off! " yelled Peter. " Look out, Pam, look out, Barbara! "
Fizzzzzz! Pop-pop-pop! BANG !
Half a dozen fireworks went off together, and the seven children and Scamper tumbled
hurriedly out of the little summer-house, trying to get out of the way.
The loose paper on the floor had now been set alight too, and in its turn it set fire to a pile of
small fireworks, rather like squibs.
Bang
Derek Lucas - His depiction is not quite as dramatic!
I must research Secret Seven shed illumination and candles next...
