TOMMY'S GUY FAWKES DAY

Evening Post, Volume CXXVI, Issue 110, 5 November 1938, Page 20

TOMMY'S GUY FAWKES DAY

*"pOMMY SMITH'S eyes gleamed suddenly as he'spotted his old enemy, Fats Davis, busy snoozing beneath an old pine tree in the park. It was Friday, November 4, but already Tommy and Co. had a large supply of fireworks ready for the great and glorious Fifth. Having just left the local shop on his way home from school, Thomas had crackers to the value of one shilling in his pocket—and just itching to let a few off. "I'll give him a scare!" chuckled the young rascal. He plunged a somewhat grimy hand in and extracted a jumping cracker. Next, he placed it on tiie grass, not too close, lit it, and stepped back to watch results. Results came quick and fast! Crack! Pop! Bang! "Whooop!" howled Fats, leaping to his feet with startling suddenness. Bang! Crack! Bang! went the jumping firework, darting about all over the ground. "Wow!" screeched Fats frantically, as the thing flew up and whacked him on his fat little nose "O, crumbs, stop it!" The firework finally expended itself and silence reigned once more, silence save the spluttering and gasping of Fats, who felt winded after his energetic performance of the Highland Fling. " Ha, ha, ha!" roared Tommy, doubling up with laughter. "That was a beauty. Ha, ha -ooff!" The enraged Fats had rushed forward and smote Tommy on the chest, sending that worthy'on his back roaring—not with laughter, however. "Grooh!" gasped young Smith. "Wait till I get him." He scrambled to his feet, red with rage and stared, or rather glared, about for his enemy, but, like the celebrated ghost at cockcrow, he had vanished away. In fact, over a nearby hedge. Growling fiercely at Fats's retaliation, he sliuffled off out of the park. Six o'clock in the morning on the Fifth of November. And four small boys marching down the street yelling at the top of their voices the ageold song:— Guy Fawkes, Guy! Guy Fawkes, Guy! - Stick him up on high! Stick him on a lamppost, And there let him die!" A ragged old dummy, stuffed with straw, sagged in a cart pulled by Gerald. "Threepence," grunted Tommy scornfully. "We've been out ten minutes and all we got is threepence! Huh!" "We got to be patient," pointed out Whitey. "Can't except money to be rollin' in on all sides." Suddenly there came the screech of a window being flung up. "Ah," grinned Tommy, with satisfaction. "Here's something." Splash] Crash! A flood of icy water came pouring from above, missing Tommy by inches only, but drenching all with spray. "What's the idea?" howled Tommy furiously. The person who had decided to give them a bath did not trouble to reply. He slammed the window with a terrific slam, almost making the building shudder! "Well, I like that!" said Tommy, with heavy sarcasm. "We get threepence and cold water thrown at us!" "You were right anyway, Tommy," grinned Curly. "You said there was something—and there was!"

(Written for the Fifth, by Cavell Nichol, City.)

They continued on down the street, their enthusiasm undampened by the water episode. ; "Guy Fawkes Guy!" bawled Tommy, and., three more voices added the chorus, youthful, though unmelodious voices^ Considerable satisfaction was rife among tine gang as several pennies, one or two threepenny bits, dropped down to themi Evidently the former owners thought it cheap to get rid of the terrible siofise. At seven-thirty the thoroughfare was thronged with people hurrying to respective positions, and also invaded hy many small children begging pennies for their guys. "Penny for the guy, mister?" pleaded Tommy, as a burly navvy came hurrying along. The man stopped. ; "Which is the guy?" he grinned. "In the cart," said Tommy in surprise. "Better take its place, sonny," the navtvy grinned. "You'll make more money that way." And, laughing, he tossed them a florin. ■ "Ha, ha, ha!" roared Whitey, Curly, and Gerald, entertained by the furoius expression on Tommy's face. But the kiindly, humorous navvy had contributed two whole shillings to their fireworks fund, which was all to the good. "Let's get on," growled Thomas, "and quit grinnin'!" "Guy, guy, guy," howled Tommy, energetically. "Stop that horrible row, young Smith*"' hooted Grocer Grumps from his doorway. "We want pennies for our guy," retorteid Tommy. "We can yell if we like." "Oh, dear," groaned Mr. Grumps, "do ' I have to stand that row? Here's a shilling. Now clear off." The money came buzzing out, straight from his pocket. He did not even glance at it. That afternoon they counted out their collection. "O gosh," said Tommy, in awe, "twenty shillings. Oh, yes, and this shilling." "Wait a moment," jerked out Whitey, suddenly. "That's not a shilling. It's golden. Look! St. George and the Dragon on this side." "O, crumbs!" ejaculated Gerald, "it's a sovereign. I've seen pictures of them in books." "A sovereign!" gasped Tommy. "But who gave us a sovereign?" "It looks like the size of a bob," putt in Whitey. "Who gave us a bob? We've only got one. All the rest are ha'pennies, etc." All four sat silent for a moment in, deep thought. "Old Grumps!" shouted Curly excitedly. "He gave it to us." Grocer Grumps frowned in annoyance as four small boys filed into his shop. "What is it now?" he demanded teslfily. "Please, mister, that shilling you gave us," said Tommy. "It was a sovereign." "A sovereign!" blurted Grumps. A hand flew to his waistcoat pocket, and came away empty "My boys, how honest you are!" he continued. "I've had that sovereign many years. Let me reward you." And when Tommy and Co. left the shop they had fifteen shillings extra. Guy Fawkes night was a night off hideous noises. The sky was alight with soaring rockets. Fats Davis and Co. had a wonderful display, but in comparison with Tommy and Co.'s was like water untp wine. Tommy and Co. were blissfully happy, and that was the main thing— with them.