Girls -- England -- Juvenile fiction; High schools -- England -- Juvenile fiction
Having seen their exhibits duly settled, the young people were obliged
to retire from the grounds while the judging took place. They returned,
however, at noon, and were some of the very first to enter the show when
it opened. It was quite a gay scene. A tent in the centre of the field
held stalls with specimens of cut flowers, plants in pots, and prize
vegetables. There were mammoth marrows, enormous pea-pods, giant
potatoes, huge apples, and black currants of tempting size and ripeness,
grown (according to their label) under the protection of netting to
preserve them from birds. Big pots of fuchsias and geraniums made a
brave splash of colour, and asters, zinnias, pansies, and other
florists' favourites displayed their beauties on little paper frills.
Bouquets of garden, greenhouse, and wild flowers formed a special
section on a table of their own, banked by a collection of ferns. In
lieu of a local band a gramophone was giving a performance with rather
scratchy records and a vast amount of burring. The Websters only peeped
into the tent, then set off almost at a run for the poultry section,
which was to them the chief centre of attraction. A large blue ticket
hung outside the ducks' cage, and on it were printed the magic words
"Second Prize".
"You darlings! You dear, clean, clever, quacking creatures! You deserve
an eel apiece or something equally delicious for this," purred their
mistress, with immense satisfaction. "Don't they look spotless, bless
their hearts!"
"I'm glad we washed them," agreed Lesbia. "It probably turned the scale
in their favour to have their feathers so spanky."
"The pullets have got 'Highly Commended'!" squealed Magsie, rushing back
from a further inspection down the line of cages.
"Good! It was worth bringing them. Next spring I'll buy some eggs from
Lord Lightman's and try and have a champion hatch. You'll see me winning
a first prize before I've finished. But you've not managed badly to
wangle a 'second', have you, Snowy and Daddles? Your auntie's proud of
you to-day."
CHAPTER XV
The Stripling
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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