Edith Nesbit - The Phoenix and the Carpet

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It began with the day when it was almost the Fifth of November,and a doubt arose in some breastRobert's, I fancyas to the qualityof the fireworks laid in for the Guy Fawkes celebration.

'They were jolly cheap,' said whoever it was, and I think it wasRobert, 'and suppose they didn't go off on the night? Those Prosserkids would have something to snigger about then.'

'The ones I got are all right,' Jane said; 'I know theyare, because the man at the shop said they were worth thribble themoney'

'I'm sure thribble isn't grammar,' Anthea said.

'Of course it isn't,' said Cyril; 'one word can't be grammar allby itself, so you needn't be so jolly clever.'

Anthea was rummaging in the corner-drawers of her mind for avery disagreeable answer, when she remembered what a wet day itwas, and how the boys had been disappointed of that ride to Londonand back on the top of the tram, which their mother had promisedthem as a reward for not having once forgotten, for six whole days,to wipe their boots on the mat when they came home from school.

So Anthea only said, 'Don't be so jolly clever yourself,Squirrel. And the fireworks look all right, and you'll have theeightpence that your tram fares didn't cost to-day, to buysomething more with. You ought to get a perfectly lovely Catharinewheel for eightpence.'

'I daresay,' said Cyril, coldly; 'but it's not YOUR eightpenceanyhow'

'But look here,' said Robert, 'really now, about the fireworks.We don't want to be disgraced before those kids next door. Theythink because they wear red plush on Sundays no one else is anygood.'

'I wouldn't wear plush if it was ever sounless it was black tobe beheaded in, if I was Mary Queen of Scots,' said Anthea, withscorn.

Robert stuck steadily to his point. One great point about Robertis the steadiness with which he can stick.

'I think we ought to test them,' he said.

'You young duffer,' said Cyril, 'fireworks are likepostage-stamps. You can only use them once.'

'What do you suppose it means by "Carter's tested seeds" in theadvertisement?'

There was a blank silence. Then Cyril touched his forehead withhis finger and shook his head.

'A little wrong here,' he said. 'I was always afraid of thatwith poor Robert. All that cleverness, you know, and being top inalgebra so oftenit's bound to tell'

'Dry up,' said Robert, fiercely. 'Don't you see? You can't TESTseeds if you do them ALL. You just take a few here and there, andif those grow you can feel pretty sure the others will bewhat doyou call it?Father told me"up to sample". Don't you think we oughtto sample the fire-works? Just shut our eyes and each draw one out,and then try them.'

'But it's raining cats and dogs,' said Jane.

'And Queen Anne is dead,' rejoined Robert. No one was in a verygood temper. 'We needn't go out to do them; we can just move backthe table, and let them off on the old tea-tray we play tobogganswith. I don't know what YOU think, but I think it's time wedid something, and that would be really useful; because then weshouldn't just HOPE the fireworks would make those Prossers situpwe should KNOW.'

'It WOULD be something to do,' Cyril owned with languidapproval.

So the table was moved back. And then the hole in the carpet,that had been near the window till the carpet was turned round,showed most awfully. But Anthea stole out on tip-toe, and got thetray when cook wasn't looking, and brought it in and put it overthe hole.

Then all the fireworks were put on the table, and each of thefour children shut its eyes very tight and put out its hand andgrasped something. Robert took a cracker, Cyril and Anthea hadRoman candles; but Jane's fat paw closed on the gem of the wholecollection, the Jack-in-the-box that had cost two shillings, andone at least of the partyI will not say which, because it was sorryafterwardsdeclared that Jane had done it on purpose. Nobody waspleased. For the worst of it was that these four children, with avery proper dislike of anything even faintly bordering on thesneakish, had a law, unalterable as those of the Medes andPersians, that one had to stand by the results of a toss-up, or adrawing of lots, or any other appeal to chance, however much onemight happen to dislike the way things were turning out.

'I didn't mean to,' said Jane, near tears. 'I don't care, I'lldraw another'

'You know jolly well you can't,' said Cyril, bitterly. 'It'ssettled. It's Medium and Persian. You've done it, and you'll haveto stand by itand us too, worse luck. Never mind. YOU'LL have yourpocket-money before the Fifth. Anyway, we'll have theJack-in-the-box LAST, and get the most out of it we can.'

So the cracker and the Roman candles were lighted, and they wereall that could be expected for the money; but when it came to theJack-in-the-box it simply sat in the tray and laughed at them, asCyril said. They tried to light it with paper and they tried tolight it with matches; they tried to light it with Vesuvian fuseesfrom the pocket of father's second-best overcoat that was hangingin the hall. And then Anthea slipped away to the cupboard under thestairs where the brooms and dustpans were kept, and the rosinyfire-lighters that smell so nice and like the woods wherepine-trees grow, and the old newspapers and the bees-wax andturpentine, and the horrid an stiff dark rags that are used forcleaning brass and furniture, and the paraffin for the lamps. Shecame back with a little pot that had once cost sevenpence-halfpennywhen it was full of red-currant jelly; but the jelly had been alleaten long ago, and now Anthea had filled the jar with paraffin.She came in, and she threw the paraffin over the tray just at themoment when Cyril was trying with the twenty-third match to lightthe Jack-in-the-box. The Jack-in-the-box did not catch fire anymore than usual, but the paraffin acted quite differently, and inan instant a hot flash of flame leapt up and burnt off Cyril'seyelashes, and scorched the faces of all four before they couldspring back. They backed, in four instantaneous bounds, as far asthey could, which was to the wall, and the pillar of fire reachedfrom floor to ceiling.

'My hat,' said Cyril, with emotion, 'You've done it this time,Anthea.'

The flame was spreading out under the ceiling like the rose offire in Mr Rider Haggard's exciting story about Allan Quatermain.Robert and Cyril saw that no time was to be lost. They turned upthe edges of the carpet, and kicked them over the tray. This cutoff the column of fire, and it disappeared and there was nothingleft but smoke and a dreadful smell of lamps that have been turnedtoo low.

All hands now rushed to the rescue, and the paraffin fire wasonly a bundle of trampled carpet, when suddenly a sharp crackbeneath their feet made the amateur firemen start back. Anothercrackthe carpet moved as if it had had a cat wrapped in it; theJack-in-the-box had at last allowed itself to be lighted, and itwas going off with desperate violence inside the carpet.

Robert, with the air of one doing the only possible thing,rushed to the window and opened it. Anthea screamed, Jane burstinto tears, and Cyril turned the table wrong way up on top of thecarpet heap. But the firework went on, banging and bursting andspluttering even underneath the table.

Next moment mother rushed in, attracted by the howls of Anthea,and in a few moments the firework desisted and there was a deadsilence, and the children stood looking at each other's blackfaces, and, out of the corners of their eyes, at mother's whiteone.