|
||
Title: All of Augusta Post by Abi on Jan 8th, 2004, 11:24pm Well, as requested, here is Augusta in her entirety...... Miss Wilson placed a neat tick by the side of the name of the last girl, and shuffled the papers together. The day when the School returned after the holidays was always a rush and a flurry, and this Spring term was no exception. She glanced down the lists of names cursorily, and her heart suddenly skipped a beat. There was a name with no tick beside it. She looked again, more closely. No, there was certainly no tick. Augusta Maria Fraser. The name seemed strangely foreboding. Miss Wilson told herself that she was being ridiculous and had merely made a mistake. She peered once again at the paper. She studied it from every angle, as though in a certain light the tick might show itself and prove to have been mischievously hiding from her. But the faint hope was quickly extinguished. Miss Wilson sighed. Either the new child was outrageously late – not impossible in these tumultuous times – or she had somehow escaped the clutches of the arrival process, concealing herself among the ranks of girls in order to confuse the powers that be. Bill rose and wended her way to the study to report the apparent absence to her Head and great friend, Hilda Annersley. On arriving, she discovered that Matron had forestalled her. Both women turned as the door opened and – metephorically – seized on her with both hands. “Nell!” Matron got in first. “We seem to be missing a pupil – name, Augusta Maria Fraser, if you please. Have you seen her?” Nell seated herself comfortably before announcing calmly, “I was just coming to ask you that. She’s the only name I don’t have ticked off on my list.” She waved the sheaf of papers before them like an ancient warrior wielding a sword. There was a pause. “How old is the child? Twelve? In that case, I suggest we check the School to make sure that she really isn’t here before we do anything else about it,” was the sensible proposal of Hilda. The others agreed, and they advanced out on their mission. Half an hour later, they were back at the study, having acquired the extra assistance of Rosalie Dene, and all admitted their utter failure to discover a twelve year old girl answering to that particular name. Indeed, every twelve year old they encountered had had a perfectly valid name of her own and expressed no desire to assume the name-without-a-girl. Having ascertained the lack of Augustas in general, and Augusta Maria Frasers in particular, Hilda took prompt action. The telephone number of the Frasers was supplied by the ever-efficient Rosalie, and soon the telephone in a large, stone house in the outskirts of Newcastle was ringing – and ringing – and ringing. As a matter of fact, it was a somewhat erratic telephone, and for a short time it made no sound at all, when suddenly the silence of the house was broken by a shrill jangling sound that resembled only a rusty alarm clock in the throes of death by strangulation. The pile of papers on top of the telephone shivered like aspen leaves, then slid gracefully onto the floor, and the precariously balanced lid of a biscuit-tin shaped teapot crashed to its own destruction. But no-one came to pick up the reciever. No-one heard the ringing of the telephone. Back in the study, Hilda gave replaced her own ‘phone. “Well, that’s that,” she stated flatly. “No answer.” The four looked at one another rather doubtfully, then Nell said briskly, “They must be on their way, then. Perhaps something happened to make them late.” They waited all day, and ‘phoned again at regular intervals, but the phone in the Fraser house had been completely cowed by the effects of its previous extravagance, and merely emitted a shrill squeak which quickly died away. In any case, there was no-one at home to attend to it. By nine o’clock that evening they had reluctantly come to the conclusion that the mysterious Augusta Maria would not be arriving that day, and retired to bed soon afterwards in the hope that she would appear in the near future. They were not seriously worried, for it was not unusual for there to be delays in travel, since the war had created such upheaval in the country. The next morning their fears were abated somewhat when the telephone rang soon after Rosalie had begun on the day’s work. She lifted the reciever. “The Chalet School, Rosalie Dene speaking,” she announced. “Oh, mmffff gll piffroff omgub chishinop,” she heard in a sort of fuzz from the other end of the phone. “I’m sorry, could you – er – repeat that, please?” The blur suddenly vanished and she could understand a woman’s voice, talking very fast and high-pitched. |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by Abi on Jan 8th, 2004, 11:25pm “Is that Miss Annersley? I’m so sorry she isn’t here, I mean, there, at School, but you see we quite forgot because of the fork in the engine and when we did we still hadn’t got it out so we couldn’t come but I think my husband has it now so we’ll bring her right away and I do hope you haven’t been worrying or anything, it was quite an accident. It could have happened to anyone, but Percy really is ever so naughty, you see….” The speaker apparently ran out of breath here, and though Rosalie assumed correctly that she was referring to Augusta and not the Head, she was rather confused as to the significance of the fork and the identity of Percy. However, Rosalie was a quick thinker and she plunged into the gap left by the woman. “Ah, Mrs. Fraser, this is Rosalie Dene, Miss Annersley’s secretary speaking. Can we expect Augusta sometime in the near future, then?” Mrs. Fraser was, it seemed, delighted by Rosalie’s intelligence and perceptivity. “Yes!” she exclaimed, and Rosalie hastily removed the reciever a good few inches further from her ear. “That’s exactly it. We’re staying at my brother’s, not at home, that’s how the fork got there, so we should be with you in an hour’s time.” Rosalie shook her head to clear it and went to inform Miss Annersley of the new state of affairs. Neither of them was able to comprehend the issue of the fork, but they decided that if the Frasers were going to be arriving with their daughter that would be time enough to clear up any mysteries. In the meantime they reassured Matron and Miss Wilson, and incidentally provided them with one or two more worries, principally regarding the probable sanity or insanity of the Fraser family. However, they were all prepared to wait to see if these fears were realised. They had not long to wait. It was perhaps around half past ten that morning when the most peculiar sound came to the ears of Miss Annersley. It began with a faint rumbling, which swiftly grew to a low growl and then increased until it was a roar. This was alarming enough, but it was accompanied by various other sounds – a loud and continuous rattling, a regular plunk plunk noise, a squeak that was so high-pitched that it was only just audible to the human ear, and the occasional crash that seemed to shake the very foundations of Plas Howell. Hilda thought at first that it was a tank or some other such vehicle, though why one should be approaching the School she could not have said. It was hardly surprising that she jumped up and rushed to the window. Indeed, she later found out that every window on that side of the building must have been lined with faces pressed to it as the members of the Chalet School investigated this new threat to their security. And so it was that quite a large proportion of the School saw the Frasers arrive. It was hardly an impressive introduction. Hilda, who had now been joined by Rosalie Dene, found it hard to believe that the small and dilapidated car crawling up the long drive was capable of producing such hair-raising sounds, and the two of them watched with fascination as it proceeded in a series of jerks and bounds. As it reached the front door there was a breathless moment of suspense when, instead of coming to a halt, it leapt forward in a sprightly manner as though desirous of investigating the interior of the building. However, it changed its mind at the last moment and went into reverse with an enthusiasm that was audible in a resounding discord of groans and bangs. For a few moments the driver, barely visible through the grime-covered windscreen, appeared to be having an all-in wrestling match with his machine, which after a herculean struggle he did win, and the car, vanquished for the moment, drew up meekly outside the front door. Hilda and Rosalie gazed at one another and sank down weakly onto chairs. They were just beginning to recover themselves when a tap came at the door and the Frasers entered. Rosalie hastily jumped up but Hilda, feeling that she would require moral support when dealing with this particular family, detained her by a gesture. Rosalie sat down tentatively. However, she was lucky, for the Fraser family displayed an outwardly normal appearance: Mr. Fraser was what might be accurately described as “long and thin”. His face was long and thin. His body was long and thin. His arms and legs were long and thin. His hair was thin but not long. Mrs. Fraser was short and skinny and had a definitely vague air about her. She also looked like the sort of woman whose greatest pleasure in life it is to talk. Her daughter was a small edition of herself, even, they were to discover, to the way she spoke. Rosalie shook herself mentally and gave her attention to what Miss Annersley was saying to the new parents. Learning from her secretary’s experience, Hilda had prudently jumped in before any of the Frasers had had time to speak and so far had not ceased to talk (she had never realised it would be so easy to do circular breathing). She was currently in the process of explaining that she had sent for someone to look after Augusta, but having said that in at least three different ways she ran out of things to say and was obliged to let the Frasers take a turn. Mrs. Fraser immediately began (Mr. Fraser seemed to be a silent sort of person. He probably had little choice about it). |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by Abi on Jan 8th, 2004, 11:25pm “Thank you so much Miss Annersley. That is perfectly marvellous. It is so kind of you to do this for us although it really was not our fault that we were late. You see, I told that lady on the ‘phone – Miss Dream I think she said her name was which I do think is a marvellous name –” (here Rosalie spluttered into her handkerchief and tried to turn it into a cough) “that Percy put the fork in the engine. Percy is my brother’s little son and he is just a little mischievous if you know what I mean, not really bad but he doesn’t seem to understand always what is a good thing to do. He said he was trying to mend the car, although she didn’t need mending in the least. She’s quite a good little car really. A little temperamental, but perfectly marvellous. Anyway, he was using a fork and dropped it in and somehow it stopped the car from starting. I don’t really understand these mechanical things, Miss Annersley, do you? I always think somehow that it is not really nice for a lady to be able to mend a car.” Rosalie seemed to be on the verge of choking, and, receiving a reproachful look from Hilda she emitted a wild noise that was a cross between a squeal and a snort. She quickly rose and excused herself in a voice still muffled by her handkerchief. Mrs. Fraser looked mildly surprised, but politely pretended not to notice and continued her garrulous explanation. As Rosalie pushed the door closed the voice of Mrs. Fraser pursued her for a moment, grew fainter and then died away altogether. A few minutes later Kathie Robertson appeared in the study to collect Augusta, and the two girls left Hilda and the Frasers closeted together. Hilda’s face was frozen into a listening expression although in reality she had quickly lost the thread of Mrs. Fraser’s conversation. She made a determined effort to steer the subject away from that of Percy and the fork when that lady paused to take a breath (something that happened only rarely), and leapt into the breach. “I quite understand, Mrs. Fraser. It must have been very upsetting for you. Now, do you have anything you wish to ask about the School or Augusta’s place in it?” One would have thought that Augusta’s mother had been waiting all the time for this question. She did not hesitate for a second. “Well, I should love you to tell me about the School, because although the prospectus looks absolutely marvellous it is never the same as actually being told about it by someone who knows.” These last words were uttered in deeply conspiratotial tones, as though she were a secret agent consulting the head of her spy ring. Miss Annersley blinked and wondered what the woman thought she knew. However, she did not get a chance to explain, for Mrs. Fraser continued. “You know, I think school will be a marvellous thing for Augusta, she tends to be just a little illogical sometimes. Like with Percy and the fork.” Hilda just had time to wonder why everything they talked about seemed to return somehow to Percy and the fork before Mrs. Fraser went on. At last, however, the Frasers left. Hilda heard what sounded like a clap of thunder, but since the sky was bright blue and there was not a cloud in sight she concluded that it must have been the car starting. This theory was borne out as the roar, which had died down to the level of one School’s-worth of crockery being dropped from a great height, altered its volume and pitch once or twice, then faded away, through the stages of a percussion group falling downstairs and the destruction of a window, until it was merely a low growl, then a purr, and at last – blessed silence. Hilda had just enough strength left to reach out and ring the bell, whereupon she requested coffee – and strong. She felt that the name Percy was one which would always conjure up in her a feeling of deepest depression, and that she never wished to see a fork again. And for the rest of her life, Hilda Annersley had a fixed aversion to the word “marvellous”. Rosalie returned soon after the coffee, having deduced from the breaking of the silence that the Frasers had taken their departure. She found Hilda leaning back in her chair, pale and sipping coffee. “What happened after I left?” she enquired with interest. Her friend cast upon her a look of gentle martyrdom and answered succinctly, “Percy and the fork. It was marvellous.” |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by Abi on Jan 8th, 2004, 11:26pm In Which Augusta Would Have Caught A Burglar A week into the term, Augusta had settled down into School so well that one might have thought she had been born in uniform. She was the sort of child who takes life very much as it comes and was rarely surprised or disturbed by anything. It is, of course, debatable whether the School had grown as accustomed to her as she had to it. Her Form had only just recovered from the shock they had received when Augusta had objected to a correction in her grammar. “Please can I go and find my stamps?” she had requested, and Miss Burnett had corrected her, “You mean ‘may I’, Augusta.” “Do I?” Augusta had replied with interest. “Well, you can go and find your stamps, can’t you? The correct form for your question is ‘may’.” Augusta considered this for a moment and then said, “But, Miss Burnett, my Father says that there isn’t such a thing as correctness in grammar. He says that everyone speaks as they speak, if you know what I mean, and that the only sort of grammar there is is what people use and that what they say is ‘correct’ is really just standard and you can be non-standard if you want to be because the rules were only made up by some silly people who thought there ought to be rules and tried to make everyone follow them, so you see –” “Thank you, Augusta, that will do,” said Miss Burnett firmly. “Here we say ‘correct’, whatever you may do at home. You may go and find your stamps.” Augusta went off, and Mary related the story to an appreciative Staff later on. The Form, meanwhile, had been shocked at the audacity of their new member and had attempted to explain to her just why it was not the done thing to argue with a mistress. Augusta said that she hadn’t been arguing, and that her Father had said that. They gave it up in the end, but continued to regard Augusta rather as they might a bundle of fireworks that was liable to go off at any moment. However, the first time the School in general realised just how explosive Augusta might be was after the truly riotous burglar-catching episode. As might have been expected, it was Augusta herself who started it, but it quickly spread throughout the School and caused more chaos than they had had for a long time. The night it all happened began like any other night. Augusta succeeded for the first time in reaching her dormitory without getting lost (she had inherited her sense of direction from her mother), washed, undressed and said her prayers. Then she settled down and was asleep almost instantly. It had always been said in the Fraser family that nothing would wake them once they were between the sheets, and boasted that Uncle Gregory Albert Gregory who was ninety-one and by now as deaf as the proverbial doorpost, had, in his young days, slept through the accidental firing of some sort of gun (that had been brought home as a souvenir of the War) a few feet from his ear. Augusta must have inherited some of the Wellick sleeping behaviour, for it was about two in the morning when she suddenly awoke and sat up in bed. Contrary to her usual manner of waking, she was wide awake in a moment and not at all sleepy. For a moment she sat there quite still and wondered what it was that had woken her. She could hear nothing, but being a persevering child, she swung her legs out of bed and crept to the dormitory door. She opened it slowly and peered furtively round it. The corridor was very dim, lit only by the regulation blue bulbs. Augusta inserted her small body through the crack and crept down the passage. It had not occurred to her to don her dressing-gown or slippers, but her bare feet made no sound. She stopped suddenly and swung round. A tall, shadowy figure was coming towards her. Augusta pressed herself into the doorway of the nect dormitory, and the figure, which had only just turned the corner, did not see her but passed her by almost silently as she crouched in horror. It seemed to be wearing a voluminous cape of some dark material and for some reason this convinced Augusta that she had discovered a burglar. As soon as the intruder had gone past she came out of hiding, and, crawling on hands and knees so as to be less visible, followed him. The burglar began to descend the stairs. Realising that this would be a challenge in her current position, Augusta rose to her feet again. She intended to wait at the top until her victim should have reached the bottom, but this plan went astray when she clumsily tripped over her own feet and crashed down. The burglar heard and turned just in time to receive Augusta’s full weight in his stomach. He toppled backwards slowly, like a falling tree, with Augusta on top of him. Both he and Augusta emitted wild yells as, hopelessly entangled, they rolled down the stairs. By some mysterious, twelve-year-old resilience Augusta found herself unhurt – not even winded. With admirable presence of mind she wriggled out from beneath the burglar, who made an ineffectual grab at her, and fled down the corridor. The burglar, apparently more desirous of extracting his revenge than taking his chance to escape, leapt to his feet, picked up his robes and gave chase. |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by Abi on Jan 8th, 2004, 11:27pm In the meantime Kathie Robertson, who slept beside the door in the same dormitory as Augusta, had been woken by the breath of chillier air that came in when her charge opened the door. Still half asleep she realised that the door was still open a crack, and muttering to herself about the iniquities of people who did not close doors when they used them, crawled out of bed to remedy the problem. Somehting must have prompted her to glance out before closing it, and she caught sight of Augusta vanishing on all fours down the corridor. Kathie’s jaw dropped. She looked back and saw that the new girl’s bed was empty. With a mental groan she decided that you never knew what Augusta might be up to and she had better go and see what it was. She also decided that she might need help, and went back to prod her great friend, Mollie Avery, who woke and sat up with a suddenness that was literally stunning, since the top of her head hit Kathie on the chin. Kathie exclaimed with some force, staggered back, and sat very hard on the next bed. It was unsurprising that very soon the entire dormitory was awake and sallying out in chase of its absent member with tremendous enthusiasm. Even as the vanguard – being Kathie, since she was the only one who really had any idea what was going on – reached the door they heard bloodcurdling howls rising from the lower floor. With no hesitation they streamed down the corridor, joined on the way by most of the members of the next two dormitories, who had also heard the noise and were investigating. They reached the top of the stairs in time to see the unknown figure running in somewhat ungainly manner along the lower passage. “A burglar!” screeched Kathie in almost hysterical excitement. She plunged down the stairs so quickly that she almost fell, but righted herself only to wobble again as Mollie shot past her, mounted on the bannister. The whole crowd followed, some tumbling down the stairs, others taking the easier if more dangerous option and sliding down the bannisters. “What’s happening?” questioned a latecomer to the chase. “Burglars!” gasped Mollie, who in her excitement had tripped over her dressing-gown and thereby lost the advantage she had gained by her high-speed bannister trip. Augusta, filled with horror by the prospect of being caught by a ferocious law-breaker, was running faster than she had ever done in her life before. After darting round a corner she dived into a Form room in the hope that her pursuer would not notice and go on past. Unfortunately she knocked over a chair, swerved to avoid another and crashed into a desk instead. The door opened and Augusta panicked, flung open the window and threw herself out of it. As she tore round the side of the House, followed by the burglar, she had no idea that about twenty girls were all attempting to get through a not-very-large window at the same time. “Ouch!” squeaked someone. “Kathie, get your elbow out of my mouth!” in a rather muffled voice. “I can’t, someone’s trying to yank my wig off,” came the anguished reply. The noise they made as they emerged at last, in full war-cry, roused the sleepers in the dormitories directly above, who, under the impression that the country had been invaded in the night and they must help to defend it, hurried out in search of the source of the uproar. It was not long before they encountered a big crowd of excited small girls charging up the front stairs. “Hi!” yelled Elizabeth Arnett. “What do you kids think you’re doing?” Kathie called an answer back from ten yards down the corridor. “We’re catching a burglar! Quick, or he’ll get away!” Elizabeth remarked afterwards that she must have been infected by the younger girls’ enthusiasm, for she cast her dignity to the winds and took to her heels. Seeing their leader take the plunge like this, the dozen or so seniors who made up the party also pounded down the corridor. They were now in the sleeping quarters of the School, and their numbers were added to every minute so that very soon there were about sixty girls tearing about, joined by most of the Staff. The majority of them had no idea what was happening but thought that it was far more entertaining than lying in slothful slumber. Augusta, having by this time made a speedy tour of the entire School, was beginning to tire. She put on a spurt, rounded a corner, bounded through her own dormitory door, closed it and leant against it, trying to catch her breath. She had been utterly unaware of the large scale of the chase so it came as a shock to notice that the room was empty. At almost the identical moment she heard what sounded like a mob coming down the corridor. She opened the door and her eyes almost fell out of her head. It was a mob coming down the corridor. Being an adventurous and curious child, Augusta joined them and was swept along. “What’s going on?” she gasped and was lucky in that one of the original chasers was close beside her and managed to wheeze out, “There’s a burglar! We’re catching him!” “Oh, jolly wizard!” enthused the cause of all the trouble. Having got her second wind it was an easy task for her to reach the front of the crowd where the athletic and determined Kathie was still holding her own. She almost jumped out of her skin to see Augusta sprinting beside her and with an effort increased her own pace to keep up. |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by Abi on Jan 8th, 2004, 11:27pm “Where’ve you been?” She was relieved to see that Augusta was not – as she had half-feared – the burglar. That young lady did not answer, but waved her arm expressively at the figure before them. It was slowing down and had stopped, wondering where its victim had gone. A shout of victory went up from those at the front and they quite literally pounced on the burglar. Down he went, with them on top. Those in the rear pressed forward to see what was happening and it ended up with a huge mass of bodies all piled up, yelling and fighting one another. Mary Burnett was trying to beat off two members of the Fifth, who were endeavoring to tie her up with their dressing-gown cords under the impression that she was the burglar. Gillian Linton was wrestling, apparently to the death, with Pam Slater. Four members of Augusta’s dormitory had not lost sight of the original purpose of the expedition and were crawling round the heaving pile in an attempt to find the alleged criminal, and Augusta herself was at the bottom of the heap and attacking indiscriminately anyone with whom she came in contact. Eventually it petered out, as fights are wont to do, and they all sat up, breathing heavily and gazing rather wildly at one another. It was the breathless and battered Miss Wilson who spoke first. “What is the meaning of this?” she demanded in tones that the Abbess herself could not have bettered. Most people looked at one another blankly and those in the know pretended they weren’t. “We – er – we were catching a burglar, Miss Wilson,” admitted Kathie guiltily. Then she looked round in bewilderment. “But he seems to have disappeared.” Miss Wilson looked at her speechlessly. “We?” she said, dangerously. “I was engaged in the pursuit of a burglar,” she announced., “Only to find myself attacked by – er –” she appeared to be lost for words as she gazed round at the crowd of dumbfounded faces. “By about half the School, it seems.” A universal gasp went up as girls and Staff alike grasped the full meaning of her statement, and once again Kathie made herself spokesperson. “You mean – we’ve been chasing – you– all this time?” But at this point Gillian Linton and Pam Slater caught each other’s eyes and went off into wild giggles. The rest of the School gazed at them and Miss Wilson stared with outraged dignity. Then she suddenly saw the funny side and a peal of laughter escaped her. The tension relieved, the portion of the School that was present followed her example. For some minutes they all sat there, gasping with laughter and their exertion, but at last Bill recovered herself and rose a little unsteadily to her feet. “Everyone, you had better all go back to bed now. We will sort out this muddle in the morning.” She stood and watched as they slowly scrambled to their feet and went off to their dormitories or their rooms. Twenty minutes later, peace once again reigned over the School. But the next morning, inevitably, came the reckoning. This proved to be far more problematic than Miss Wilson had anticipated. She reported the incident to Hilda Annersley, who questioned whether she was certain that it was really a burglar that she had been chasing. Nell was adamant and assured the Head that nothing but a large man could possibly have knocked her down the stairs. “Really, Hilda,” she expostulated. “You seem to forget that I had him in sight most of the time and I could see perfectly well that he was a man.” Hilda argued no further, but instead suggested that they investigate how half the School had come to be pursuing Miss Wilson in the middle of the night. Nell thought about it. “Young Kathie Robertson seems to have been in the forefront of the whole thing,” she remembered at length. “I think most of them had no idea what was happening – they just followed the rest.” So Kathie was summoned to the study and explained that she had gone out in search of Augusta and had inadvertently woken the entire dormitory in the process. “Really, Kathie!” said Miss Wilson reproachfully. “If you can’t get out of bed without waking an entire dormitory I think you had better sleep in Matron’s room for the rest of the term.” Kathie turned scarlet and said nothing. Hilda intervened. “Yes, well, never mind that at the moment. Augusta seems to have started this, we’d better speak to her.” Augusta arrived in short order and gazed enquiringly at them. “Augusta, Kathie tells us that you were out of bed last night. Can you tell us what you were doing, please?” Nothing could have pleased Augusta better. She immediately launched into her explanation (which had lost nothing by being repeated at least three times that morning already). |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by Abi on Jan 8th, 2004, 11:28pm “Well,” she began in low, mysterious tones. “Something woke me up – I think it must have been the sound of silent footsteps coming along the corridor. I opened the dormitory door and there, coming down it, was a huge, shadowy figure, wearing an enormous black cape.” The two mistresses listened with grave faces and did not dare to look at one another. “I looked round the door and for one terrible moment I saw the figure’s face.” She paused for dramatic effect. “It was a man’s face, with piercing dark eyes and a black moustache. There was something sinister about it that sent shivers down my spine. It looked – evil. Like pure, evil, in person.” Hilda permitted herself one sidelong glance at the outraged face of Nell. It nearly proved to be her undoing but she mastered herself and kept a straight face. Augusta took a deep breath and continued her narrative. “As soon as it had gone past I crept out of the dormitory and followed him. Even the way he walked looked menacing. He went right along the corridor and then to the back stairs. He went down them.” The last four words were spoken as though to go down the stairs had been the most horrifying thing yet. “I – er, well,” for the first time Augusta hesitated slightly. “As a matter of fact I fell down the stairs on top of him. He sort of hung onto my legs I think and I know I was hanging onto his hair, because I was trying to find the bannister.” Miss Wilson rubbed the top of her head. “When we reached the bottom of the stairs I decided to try to hide and then follow him where he went, but he chased me,” she said, aggrievedly. “I don’t know why, I’d have thought he wanted to get away. Anyway, I ran away, and he ran after me, and I jumped out of a window –” Hilda looked slightly alarmed here. “But he followed me round the House and back in through the window again and round and round the place quite a lot and then I went up the front stairs and I think he came after me there but I didn’t see or hear him after that and I hid in my dormitory and then I heard the others coming down the corridor so I went out and they said they were catching the burglar too but when we jumped on him he turned into Miss Wilson and I think that’s all.” Augusta concluded her story at last and smiled proudly, evidently under the impression that she was the heroine of the hour. “I – see,” said Miss Annersley after a long pause. “Er – Miss Wilson, perhaps you would like to tell Augusta what happened to you.” “Oh, yes, Miss Wilson, please do,” agreed Augusta eagerly. Miss Wilson made a sound that was distinctly similar to a muffled snort, but complied. “I had just been attending to Gwensi Howell, who had toothache, as Matron was away tonight, and I began to descend the back stairs. As I did so I was cannoned into by – ah – someone, with whom I fell down the stairs. They seemed to be trying to pull all my hair out and were also screeching in my ear in a manner that would have been envied by a banshee. On completing our descent, the – person – fled and I, under the impression that it was a burglar, gave chase. I did not succeed in catching it, but as we completed the full circuit of the School I was suddenly pounced upon by at least half its members.” Miss Annersley’s solemn countenance gave away nothing of what she was feeling. “Well,” she remarked. “It seems that Miss Wilson was Augusta’s burglar and that Augusta was yours, Miss Wilson.” Augusta was staring at Miss Wilson open-mouthed. “You mean…. You mean….” She summoned all her resources to deal with this new information. As it dawned on her her expression changed and she glared at the mistress accusingly. “You mean it was you all the time, Miss Wilson, and not a burglar at all?” Miss Annersley choked. “Well,” retorted Miss Wilson, “I was chasing you all the time, Augusta, not a burglar. What do you mean by pretending to be a burglar?” Augusta appeared to be on the verge of suffocating with her indignation. “I never did!” she squeaked at last. “Why did you chase me, anyway, if you weren’t a burglar?” “Because you ran away,” said Miss Wilson promptly. Augusta gave a remarkably good impression of a pig. “Well, I ran away because you chased me.” Miss Annersley decided that they were getting off the point rather. “Yes, well, now we’ve sorted that out, I think it’s time to point out that it is hardly a good thing to rouse a whole School in the pursuit of imaginary burglars. It cannot be permitted and I feel I ought to deal with the issue very severely indeed.” Augusta felt that this was hardly fair. |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by Abi on Jan 8th, 2004, 11:28pm “Please, Miss Annersley,” she interrupted. “I don’t think it’s fair that you should punish me and not Miss Wilson. After all, she pretended to be a burglar too.” She eyed the erring Science mistress balefully. Miss Wilson most reprehensibly chuckled. “A very good point, Augusta,” concurred Miss Annersley. “I certainly think that Miss Wilson should be punished as well as you.” She glanced at her colleague with amusement in her eye as Miss Wilson prepared to object to this. “One moment, Miss Wilson. Now, Augusta, what do you suggest I do to Miss Wilson.” Augusta considered this, her head on one side. At last she pronounced, “I suppose she really thought I was a burglar,” this grudgingly, “So I should say she ought to be let off with a caution, Miss Annersley.” Hilda laughed outright at this judgement and turned to Miss Wilson. “Miss Wilson, may I ask the same question of you? What do you suggest for Augusta?” Miss Wilson laughed too. “After that I can hardly say much, can I? After all, I suppose Augusta really thought I was a burglar! No, I think Augusta should be let off with a caution too, Miss Annersley,” she said. Miss Annersley laughed again. “Very well, both of you, consider yourselves cautioned. Now Augusta, you had better run off to your lessons.” “Yes, Miss Annersley, thank you,” said Augusta and dutifully performed her curtsey before skipping off to her Form room. In the study, Hilda and Nell laughed until the tears ran down their cheeks. “Oh, Nell! I had never noticed your menacing walk before,” wept Hilda. “Well, I never knew I looked so evil and sinister,” giggled Nell, peering at herself in her pocket mirror. “Pure evil, in person,” quoted Hilda blissfully, and they laughed again. |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by Abi on Jan 8th, 2004, 11:28pm Augusta and the Ink Having related one of the more hair-raising incidents that generally cropped up around Augusta, I feel that it would be interesting to return to more mundane issues – that is, lessons. Augusta’s previous teacher had given up on her as a bad job. This was not so much because she was badly behaved – in fact she was almost too eager to please, on occasion. They started work in earnest on the Tuesday, and Miss Edwards was moved to give them an English dictation for the first piece of work. Both Kathie and Mollie, on either side of Augusta, got very low marks on that particular piece of dictation. They were watching Augusta’s method of working dealing with the task with intense fascination. The first thing she did was to empty her entire pencil-box onto the table. It contained about a dozen erasers, but no pencils (except for one very short, very stubby specimen that lurked at the bottom as though ashamed of its unprepossessing appearance) and a fountain pen which Kathie remarked afterwards bore evidence of having been used by Noah in the Ark. Then she opened her books at the first page, took up the elderly pen, removed the cap and thereby released a stream of blue ink which ran across the middle of the page and dripped off it onto the desk. Mollie giggled. Miss Edwards looked across the room and said, “Augusta Maria Fraser!” in tones of deepest horror. Augusta smiled reassuringly at the teacher. “It’s all right, I’ve got some tissues,” she said, diving into the recesses of her capacious pockets and resurfacing bearing a wad of tissues. She mopped up the ink (which left blue streaks across the wooden desk) and returned the tissues to her pocket. Miss Edwards pretended not to notice and began the dictation instead. I am sure you have noticed that dictation exercises are possibly the most boring stories ever written. This particular one began: Albert was a fat man (they all begin like this). When he went to the shop he wanted to buy a whistle. There were no whistles in the shop. Mrs. West said “We will have whistles on Wednesday. Who is your whistle for?” Albert said, “William.” I shall bore you no further. But this Tuesday neither Kathie nor Mollie noticed how tedious it was. Their attention was centred on their new classmate. Spellbound they watched as, with her nose almost resting on the paper, Augusta scrawled words across the lines. Somehow she seemed to be working twice as feverishly as anyone else. The scratching of her pen sounded even above Miss Edwards’ voice and there was an occasional resounding ‘ping’ as the two parts of the nib sprang back together after a painful and prolonged seperation. |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by Abi on Jan 8th, 2004, 11:29pm Even more remarkable than the orchestra of sounds which accompanied Augusta’s literary efforts was the visual aspect. Sore eyes would have feasted upon the sight. Slowly, gradually, but relentlessly and unmistakably a tide of Royal Blue ink spread onto Augusta’s fingertips, up her fingers, her arms. Her neat School uniform became almost invisible beneath the coating of ink. Her features were almost obscured behind a mask of ink. Even her hair began to wear an air of distinct blueness. Ink flowed merrily off the page and wandered over the desk. It found its way in some mysterious fashion onto the work of Kathie and Mollie. Some of it made a bid for freedom and leapt recklessly to the floor. But the most fascinating sight of all was Augusta’s dictation. It was smeared lightly with ink all over due to the progress of her fist across the page. Through this could be read occasional phrases such as “…the woman blue the wissel…”. Scattered about this effusion were dark blots of ink. The whole thing gave the impression of an army of ants and other insects, some with wings, having fallen into the inkwell and staggered drunkenly across the page, perhaps attempting one or two complex acrobatic and balletic moves when not really in a fit state to do so. Augusta, meanwhile, appeared to be completely oblivious to this and of the interest with which Kathie and Mollie, as well as others of the less studious elements of the Form, were watching. Even those who were generally hard-working were unable to stop themselves from glancing up occasionally when the mistress paused and they had caught up. The dictation had taken around half an hour to read, what with repetitions, questions and interruptions. By the end of this time Augusta’s new friends were almost hysterical with stifled giggles. It was Mollie who called Miss Edwards’ attention to the state of affairs. It was at the end of the dictation. Augusta dropped her pen with a clatter (which in protest at this treatment showered a fine spray of droplets across a wider area than one would have thought possible). As she lifted her head, Mollie caught the full glory of Augusta’s blue countenance. It was too much. Mollie snorted with laughter, tried to turn it into a cough, and came out with a remarkable noise that attracted the mistress’ full attention to that part of the room. For ten seconds she stared at Augusta with a sort of petrified horror that grew over her face. Augusta watched the transformation with a dispassionate interest, while the rest of the Form gazed at the two of them with expression that were mild reflection of Miss Edwards’. “Augusta!” at last she spoke. It was only one word, but into it was infused such a wealth of feeling that a lecture could not have expressed more effectively her emotions. Every member of the Form held its breath. There was an electric pause. Only the cause of the trouble herself appeared to be blissfully unaware of anything unusual. She looked enquiringly at the mistress. “Yes, Miss Edwards? Is anything wrong?” she added a trifle anxiously. If Miss Edwards had been a less self-controlled person she might have emitted a howl of anguish, or have thrown her pen on the floor and jumped on it (it is very amusing when people do this, by the way), or even have banged her head on the wall. But even a short time of teaching children can have a great effect on the mind, and Miss Edwards had already acquired patience. This is true of many teachers: some are born patient, some acquire patience, and some have patience thrust upon them. Instead of committing an act of violence she merely gave a small sigh of exasperation. “Augusta, have you seen your face?” “Well, I saw it this morning in the mirror,” said her pupil helpfully. “Try looking at your hands, then.” Augusta followed this instruction and gazed judicially at her hands. “They’re blue,” she commented, showing no particular interest or surprise in the fact. Miss Edwards’ face clearly displayed her emotions. She remembered that her mother had always told her to count to ten before speaking, and decided to ignore the advice. This was not the moment for counting games. She summoned all her powers of sarcasm. “I can only congratulate you upon your extraordinary powers of observation, Augusta,” she said. Sarcasm, however, went right over Augusta’s head. She smiled at the mistress happily and made a good suggestion. “Shall I go and wash them?” “I think that would be an excellent idea. You could just look at your face in the mirror too, and perhaps even use a little soap on it.” |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by Abi on Jan 8th, 2004, 11:29pm “Oh, is that blue as well?” asked Augusta. “Just go and wash it!” said Miss Edwards through her teeth. Augusta looked faintly surprised. She left the room. There was a brief silence after her departure. “Now,” said Miss Edwards, relaxing. “I will take your books in and mark them. Would you…” “Miss Edwards!” A blue face appeared apologetically round the door. “I can’t remember where the Splasheries are!” Miss Edwards showed distinct signs of being about to indulge in an apoplectic fit and Kathie hastily jumped up and said, “I’ll show her!” She pushed Augusta out and closed the door, and peace once again reigned in the Form room. It was some time before Augusta and Kathie reappeared. It had taken about ten minutes and vigorous application of soap and water to remove the evidence of Augusta’s literary activities. Even so, her hands and face still glowed faintly blue in certain lights. A geater problem had been her uniform. Augusta maintained that this really did not matter since her parents were used to it and the sooner the School was the better. Kathie, well trained by the autocratic Matron, was horrified by this idea and insisted that some attempt must be made to reduce the unfortunate articles of clothing to a state of cleanliness. So more soap and water were employed and the two girls got gradually wetter and wetter. “But a good bit of it has come off!” Augusta pointed out with her usual optimism. “Yes, but I don’t think Miss Edwards’ll want us this wet,” said Kathie, doubtfully. “We’d better have a go with the towels.” They took it in turns to rub the other dry. When at length they returned to the Form room, both girls bore ample evidence of their ablutions. Although they were now dry, Kathie’s hair was rumpled and frizzy, while Augusta’s (which never looked tidy under any circumstances) was apparently standing quite literally on end. In fact, had you passed them at this point you might have been excused for assuming that they had both been hauled through the proverbial hedge in reverse. Miss Edwards deliberately kept her eyes averted when they entered the room. She said afterwards that she hadn’t dared look at Augusta after she had been attended to by Kathie (this was in the Staff Room, where she described the entire episode in lurid terms, much to the edification of the Staff). The rest of the day passed more or less smoothly. Miss Edwards carefully kept to verbal work, which did elicit some intriguing comments from Augusta (and other members of the Form), but was in general less mentally disturbing than the ink had been. For some time after, Miss Edwards painstakingly tried to instill in Augusta a sense of tidiness and a dislike for blue ink. But Augusta saw no reason to change the habit of a lifetime and in her illogical manner she gently made hay of the mistress’ every effort. In the end Miss Edwards, like many before her, gave up the unequal struggle. |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by Abi on Jan 8th, 2004, 11:30pm In Which Augusta Has A Cold Matrons in schools always have extra work to do when a pupil is ill. But Matron Lloyd discovered not so very long after the new term had begun just how trying some patients can be. Probably in the time it has taken you to read these two lines you have surmised what was indeed the case – Matron’s new patient was Augusta. As a matter of fact, she was not the only one, but the rest were less trouble than she was even when all put together and doubled. That is, until……. But I must wait, and tell my story in the proper order. There seemed to be an epidemic of colds going around the School. Colds are the sort of illness that everyone gets if they come within a mile of someone else with one, and all Matron’s attempts at isolation were to no avail. The cold seemed to know exactly what would irritate her most. It first struck down only a few victims, mostly seniors. Matron promptly dosed them and sent them to the San. They were just recovering when almost the entire Fourth form went down with it overnight. Matron would have suspected some sort of trick, except that every one of the victims was sneezing fit to scare the birds. So a dormitory was commandeered, the patients banished, and the School settled down to an unexpected quiet period. After a few days the members of the Fourth began to trickle slowly back into lessons, and there were only half of them left in exile when the cold suddenly reappeared and picked out about ten percent of the members of each form (some of the Fourth formers, to their indignation, succumbed for a second time having had only a few days back in School) and a goodly proportion of the Staff. As I am sure you can imagine, this opened up ample opportunity for some of the less virtuous elements of the School to indulge in mindless but (to them) amusing pranks. Among the younger girls Augusta was to the fore in this area, having had plenty of experience from her previous life, and she lightened the days considerably, however, this is not what this story is concerned with. It opens at a time when most of the girls were back in lessons and grumbling because their colds had not lasted long enough (except for the few who were annoyed at having had them in the first place). For no apparent reason Augusta woke up one morning and sneezed. This was about five minutes before the rising bell, but everyone else in the dormitory woke up instantly. Most of them sat up, or raised themselves on their elbows, wondering what it was that had roused them, since the rising bell was obviously not ringing. There was a moments silence, then Augusta sneezed again. Everyone gasped and one or two of the more excitable ones yelled in shock. You may, by this time, be under the impression that I am grossly exaggerating the effect of Augusta’s sneeze. I can assure you that I am not. The second sneeze, as a matter of fact, was less violent than the first had been, but the echoes were only just dying down in the time it has taken to relate these facts. It had been as though two explosions had taken place. Later on that morning someone was to say that they distinctly felt the building rock. This, I think, may be an embroidering of the truth. Even so, the dust that had lodged itself behind the radiators in the dormitory was suddenly dislodged and a cloud of black rose up, then settled in the area around the radiators. A hairbrush that had been rather precariously lodged on someone’s dressing table clattered to the floor, and the windows rattled. As the reverberations died away Kathie said rather weakly, “What on earth was that?” Augusta spoke up apologetically. “Sorry, I sneezed.” There was a minor rattle and then a loud trumpeting sound as she retrieved a handkerchief from her drawer and applied it vigorously to her nose. As the noise faded a giggle was plainly audible from Mollie’s cubicle. “It’s not funny!” protested Augusta, sounding affronted. Fortunately she was prevented from saying any more by the ringing of the rising bell. As they flung up their curtains to let the air flow through the room, Kathie turned to Augusta. “Do you think you’d better go to Matron, Gussie?” (this was the now common shortening for Augusta’s name). Augusta looked at her blankly. “Why should I?” she questioned. Kathie rolled her eyes expressively up to the ceiling. “Well, don’t you think a sneeze like that might mean you’re getting a cold?” Augusta snorted. “I’ve never been ill in my life and I don’t intend to start now,” she stated firmly, although not at all aggressively. |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by Abi on Jan 8th, 2004, 11:33pm This was not absolutely true, although nearly so. In general Augusta was one of those people who never is ill, however much time they spend in the company of those who are suffering from various maladies. When her best friend at home had had chickenpox Augusta, feeling that the illness would be worth it for the days of school she would miss, had industriously breathed in the atmosphere of Johnson’s French Grammar, which Caroline had been using the day she was taken ill. She had unlawfully entered the invalid’s room, and made off with a nightie that had not yet been washed or disinfected. But all to no avail. The illness avoided her as though it felt that she might win if it took her on. At the tender age of seven all but three of her classmates had become ill with mumps. The other three had succumbed even as the earlier sufferers were returning to the fold. But Augusta had remained aggravatingly free of germs. The one disease to which she had a notorious (amongst those who knew her) susceptibility was the common cold. Augusta suffered from colds in season and out of it. She sneezed and coughed at Christmas, at Easter and at the height of summer. Her life seemed to be an endless succession of colds. If she wasn’t actually in the process of having one she was either recovering from one or catching one. It was a mystery how she had survived in the germ-ridden environment that was currently the Chalet School for so long without having caught the cold. Now, however, she most definitely had a cold, and she knew it. Augusta, however, was the sort of person that never gives up without a struggle, and for the twelve years of her life so far she had laboured under the delusion that if one resists a cold strenuously enough it will eventually give up and go and haunt someone with less willpower. So far the colds had always proved stronger than Augusta. This one was no exception. Knowing from previous experience what to expect, Augusta took eight handkerchieves with her when she went downstairs. Breakfast passed without any major incidents, but no sooner had the first lesson started (it was Maths, and Miss Slater was in a good mood that day), than a tremendous sneeze blasted the ears of those who sat near Augusta. Miss Slater was not a nervous person, but she jumped violently. The sneeze was quickly followed by the trumpet-like blowing of Augusta’s nose. “Really, Augusta!” said the mistress reprovingly. “Must you make quite so much noise about it?” Augusta looked at her aggrievedly over the top of the first of her handkerchieves. “I was being quiet, Miss Slater,” she objected. A minor explosion might have been heard from Mollie on one side of the sufferer, but the class’ ears were still ringing with the previous one so no-one noticed it. Augusta finished blowing her nose and Miss Slater, not quite knowing what to do, continued the lesson. It was not until that afternoon, however, that the cold struck in full force. Admittedly, Augusta had had occasion to blow her nose once or twice previously and had now reached her third handkerchief, but that was merely a preliminary to the glory of the real thing. |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by Abi on Jan 8th, 2004, 11:34pm In Chemistry with Miss Wilson they were doing some experiments with bunsen burners and various chemicals. Augusta (having learnt from a previous experience which I shall not relate in this narrative) was measuring out her substances and working with a meticulous care that was usually quite foreign to her (it had been a painful experience). Suddenly even to Augusta three resounding sneezes shook the room. Augusta’s bunsen burner shook violently and fell over, while her chemicals vanished in a puff. Augusta herself was nearly as shaken as they were. She fished in her bulging pockets for a clean handkerchief. Miss Wilson, in the meantime, had instantly thought of the time that Evadne Lannis, in a spirit of scientific discovery, had almost blown up the lab and exterminated the entire School. At first she was under the impression that a similar thing had happened, but on surveying her charges she discovered that they and the room were all intact except for one bench which was being charred by an overturned bunsen burner. As Miss Wilson reached the bench, Augusta (who, being engaged in excavating her pocket, had not noticed her, or she might have delayed her action slightly) masked herself with her handerchief and blew vociferously into it. Miss Wilson leapt backwards like a startled kangaroo, then, covering her ears against the blast, she ventured to step forward and right the bunsen burner, which, to the disappointment of some of the class, had not yet succeeded in setting the bench alight. Augusta removed the handkerchief from her face, sneezed again, brought forth the fifth handkerchief and continued to sneeze and blow alternately for some ten minutes. By the end of this time her nose was red and sore, her eyes were streaming and all the hankerchiefs were very well used. At last, however, the storm abated. Miss Wilson shook her head to stop the echoes of those monstrous blasts and suggested mildly that Augusta might like to go and see Matron. Augusta put on a pleading expression. “Oh, please, Biss Wilsod,” she expostulated, “I’b quite all right, really I ab. Id’s just that I get these sdeezes sobetibes. It doesn’t bead adythig, hodestly. It’s dot a co’d or adythig like that. Baybe it was the budsed burder or the chebicals or sobethig. I’ll be all right id a bidute, I probise, if I just blow by dose agaid…” she fumbled in her pocket, but Miss Wilson, seeing that she would probably continue to expound on the lack of germs in her system, hastily cut in. “No, Augusta. Go to Matron now, if you please.” And Augusta sighed heavily but fatalistically and left the room. Miss Wilson turned to the rest of the Form. “Go on with your work, girls.” But after the lesson had finished she went to Matron to procure treatment for a headache. Augusta, in the meantime, was by this time safely in bed in the Sanatorium, where there were only about six other girls left, of ages varying from eight to seventeen. She had attempted to explain to Matron that her fusillade of sneezes had been nothing to do with the cold outbreak but Matron refused (with some difficulty, it must be admitted) to listen and had packed her off to bed almost before the reluctant Augusta had realised what was happening. Augusta was not a person to bear malice, and she forgave both Matron and Miss Wilson for what she considered their interference. As a matter of fact, she was not really ill – although she spent most of her time having colds they only made her sneeze and cough and blow her nose, actions to which she had grown accustomed in the twelve years of her life. So she decided that since she was incarcerated in the Sanatorium she may as well make the most of it. She looked round. She had never experienced a school San before, but it did not appear encouraging. The other occupants of the room, most of whom were recovering from colds but still not permitted to rise from their beds of sickness, were mostly reading, and one or two were having quiet conversations. Augusta studied what she could see of the window from where she lay. It occurred to her that it would not be a difficult task to abscond by means of the tree that was conveniently situated close by. On further reflection, however, she concluded that to follow this course of action would be to lay herself open to a charge the punishment for which would probably be unsavoury. With a sigh she turned away from the tempting pane of glass. As she shifted her gaze to her fellow patients a series of sneezes shook their beds. Augusta vanished precipitately behind her handkerchief and the customary trumpet-blasts resonated round the room. Their was a moments pause before the door opened and Matron entered, looking slightly flustered. |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by Abi on Jan 8th, 2004, 11:35pm “What – Augusta!” Augusta removed the handkerchief for a moment and opened her mouth to explain. Matron realised her mistake and the cause of the uproar at the same moment and promptly retreated. Augusta applied the handkerchief once more before silence fell over the room. Augusta stowed the handkerchief away for future use (Matron had provided a fresh supply) and realised suddenly that everyone else was watching her with an interest which she considered was exaggerated, under the circumstances. However, she was never one to reject an opportunity, so she spoke. “Isd’t it dull here?” was her observation. The eyes of Elizabeth Arnett, in the bed next to her, widened. As a matter of fact, she agreed, but it did not seem quite right to say so to a chit of a new kid who had no right to criticise the School and its arrangements. “Well, what do you expect?” she enquired pertinently. “A band playing for your entertainment?” As I believe I have mentioned previously, sarcasm was a tool that was as effective on Augusta as a feather would be to cut a diamond. “Oh do,” she reassured the other girl earnestly. “Bud I thoughd we bighd lived thigs up a bid. I’b dot ill, and you do’d look it. Are you?” “Not really,” said Elizabeth. “But in this establishment they send you to bed if you have so much as a toenail ache. I think it’s because they’ve had people who got pneumonia practically every term so now they think we’re all going to do it. Anyway, I’m quite well now, but Matron won’t let me go down till tomorrow.” “Hb,” mused Augusta. “There bust be sobethig we can do. Of course, It’ll have to be quied because of Batey….” Privately Elizabeth thought that unless they did anything too outrageous they would be safe from even that redoubtable woman – she was too much in awe of Augusta. “We bight have a gybdastic competition,” suggested the younger one after some thought. Elizabeth remembered that she was now a senior and therefore expected to be responsible in her behaviour. “Well, I’m not sure we ought…” she demurred. But it was tempting. She had to admit that… “If we’re quied Batrod wo’d dow,” pointed out the tempter. “By father says that if the eye doesn’t see the cooks ca’t spoil the broth.” Elizabeth opened her mouth after the first part of this sentence to point out that this was hardly playing the game, then changed what she was going to say to protest at the mixed proverb, then changed her mind about that too and closed her mouth again. Augusta continued, “It ca’t hurt ady of us, dode of us are really ill ady bore.” “Except you,” put in the smallest girl present, who happened to be Bride Bettany. Augusta eyed her disapprovingly. “I’b dot ill,” she declared pugnaciously. “It’s just by dose, a’d adyode could have a dose. I bead,” as Bride opened her mouth to point out the obvious, “A co’d id the dose. I’b quite able to do gybdastics.” Bride subsided and the rest clamoured to begin at once. Only Elizabeth hesitated, but she could hardly stop the other doing as they wished, so the gymnastic competition began. |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by Abi on Jan 8th, 2004, 11:35pm It was a challenge to perform cartwheels in the narrow space between the beds, and the contest quickly degenerated into one over who could turn the most cartwheels along the room. Augusta was quickly out of this. Although she enjoyed it, any sort of sporting skill seemed to elude her, and her attempts to turn cartwheels were greeted with giggles that were all the more wild for having to be stifled. Elizabeth found the challenge too much to resist, and just as Bride (being the smallest) looked like winning, he succumbed and entered, whereupon she won, to the mystification of the others, who were unable to comprehend how it was possible to turn thirteen cartwheels in the space that accomodated eight beds, especially when one’s arms and legs were the longest of anyone’s. The walking-on-the-hands race did not last very long – that is, not in its original form. Elizabeth had been winning that too, when Augusta, who had only managed to take one step, overbalanced, squirmed franticly in an endeavor to remain vertical, then fell over. As she plummeted to the floor, she succeeded in felling two of her opponents – she could not see which ones, since her sight was swiftly extinguished by one of them, who landed rather neatly on top of her head. The other, she discovered afterwards, had cannoned into another, who in her turn prostrated Elizabeth. That young lady dropped straight on top of Bride Bettany, who was in close pursuit of her. The two went down with earsplitting shrieks from the battered Bride. It was at this inauspicious moment that the door opened and Matron walked in. No-one noticed for a moment, and Bride’s protests were clearly audible. “Hi! You’re squashing me, Liz! Stop it – get off! Ouch!” this last as Elizabeth wriggled to a sitting position (with her back to the door) and jabbed her knee and elbow simultaneously into Bride’s back. Bride’s yells were renewed. Matron choked and closed the door to hide her confusion. Having regained control of herself she opened the door again. Augusta had by this time shoved the burden from her but been tripped up as Bride grasped her ankle, under the slightly hysterical impression that it was Elizabeth’s, and Augusta collapsed on top of the two of them. “Girls!” Matron’s voice penetrated the clamour and everyone suddenly stopped what they were doing. Unfortunately this involved Augusta ceasing to strive to halt her fall, and she sat down hard on the back of the suffering Bride. Bride grunted loudly. Someone sniggered. Matron ignored all this. “Get back into your beds at once!” she commanded, and they scrambled to do her bidding, even Augusta slightly abashed. “Wait, Bride,” continued Matron, and she examined the small girl to ensure that her misadventures had not injured her in any way. However, small children are notoriously resistant to damage and Bride was unhurt. When they were all in bed Matron spoke again. “Now, I want to know what all this was about.” Her look would have made Sadam Hussein shiver in his shoes. It appeared that Augusta was the only one able to speak at that point, so she accommodatingly took it upon herself to explain the situation. “Well, it was like this, you see Batrod, if you see what I bead.” She paused to gather her thoughts. “You see, it’s frighdfully dull id here whed you’ve got dothi’g to do, a’d I’b dot really ill, you dow, I’ve just got a bit of a – well, adyway,” she hastily resumed her explanation, catching the expression on Matron’s face. “So I thoughd we bay as well do sobethig to lived it up a bit. I did think of a pillow fight but thed I thought the pillows bight get hurt.” Matron looked as though she would interrupt, but she hesitated and it was too late. Augusta had swept on, “so thed I looked out of the window and thought how dice it looked out there today and how I’d like to be outside, and there is a codvedient tree to clibe down, but of course seved of us couldn’t do that. Well,” she added thoughtfully, “I suppose we could have, but it would have beed difficult to do it without you doticing.” Matron spoke between gritted teeth. “Augusta!” “Yes?” “Just tell me what you DID do.” Augusta looked reproachful. “I’b tellig you,” she observed with slight irritation. To punish Matron for her impatience she decided to cut short the rest of the explanation. “We had a gybdastics competitiod,” she said. Matron could deal with this. She put on a glare that might have succeeded in reducing Tony Blair himself to silence. Augusta looked faintly alarmed and the others retreated a little further beneath the bedclothes. Matron’s lecture was short and sharp. Very sharp. Even Augusta looked subdued by the time it was over. They had each been awarded two order marks and condemned to a Saturday evening’s sewing, and most of them looked as though they had been run over by a steam roller. |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by Abi on Jan 8th, 2004, 11:36pm Only Augusta was still restless after Matron had left. After having her suggestions of a game of charades, ‘catch’ between the beds and a circular story, she gave up on the others. None of them dared risking Matron’s anger for the second time in one day. Augusta sighed. Bored, oh so bored. Idly she wondered whether Matron would mind if she made her bed the other way round. At least it would be something to do. Perhaps she’d better not, though. Suddenly she remembered her father showing her a interesting thing he had learnt from a business friend. She wondered whether she could remember it. Of course she could. Augusta chuckled. Ten minutes later Matron entered the room, made suspicious by the deep silence that now lay over it. Her eyes roved round and, predictably, halted as they reached Augusta. Matron sighed. “Augusta, what are you doing now?” Augusta raised her head briefly. “Wait a bobe’t…” she murmered absently, and bent her head again, apparently to alter something on a bulky object (which, from what Matron could see, looked like a dead cat) that she held close to her. “Augusta!” said Matron warningly. Augusta looked up at her with an air of enormous triumph and exhibited the dead cat. “Look, Batrod!” she displayed the object with some pride, evidently having forgotten the recent dispute. Matron stared at it. “A – camel,” she said, rather weakly. Augusta’s face shone with the pride of achievement. “Id’s a cabel bade out of a bla’ket,” she explained eagerly. “I – see,” said Matron, somewhat at a loss. She looked at Augusta carefully, and continued. “Augusta, you seem quite well to me. I think you may get up and go downstairs if you wish.” The light on Augusta’s face brightned to radiance. Matron blinked. “Oh, tha’g you, Batrod, I dew I wasn’t ill really…” Matron fled before her. |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by Abi on Jan 8th, 2004, 11:38pm et voila, as the French say so elegantly.....oh yes, except the little added extra... Augusta decided that enough was enough and she wanted to go home. So, getting out her “100 Ways to Destroy a School in 30 Seconds” she waved the magic wand that she had produced from her stocking, waved it, and said a few magic words. There was a bang and a puff of smoke, and the entire building was destroyed, with all its occupants. Augusta walked calmly away, wiping her hands on her skirt. |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by Rachel on Jan 9th, 2004, 1:03am Abi, I think you should delete that last post NOW and write more of this in a Word doc, and then post ALL of it again! Reading the whole thing straight through is hysterically funny, and I will not be satisfied with you stopping here! |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by Esmeralda on Jan 9th, 2004, 1:07am on 01/09/04 at 01:03:46, Rachel wrote:
*Agrees with every word Rachel says. Oh, that's a bit scary isn't it? |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by Vikki on Jan 9th, 2004, 1:50am *moans feebly and weeps with laughter* |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by Susan on Jan 9th, 2004, 2:05am Oh Abi this is so funny. I'm afraid I have to agree with Rachel and Esmeralda. |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by PatMac on Jan 9th, 2004, 2:11am It is said that laughing raises endorphin levels and reduces stress. No-one who reads this should have any stress left and it should be marketed as an anti-stress medication. Superb!!!!! |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by KB on Jan 9th, 2004, 4:17am :'( Is there any way to make that a happy crying smiley? 'Cos that's what I'm doing now! |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by Abi on Jan 9th, 2004, 11:18pm oooh, thanks everyone :D I will write more when I get inspiration, but am VERY busy at the moment packing to go back to Uni, tidying my room etc. Once I'm there I'll probably have plenty of time. |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by Carolyn P on Jan 9th, 2004, 11:30pm These are very funny Abi. You could write lots and lost of them as separate adventures and treat us to a new Augusta adventure every week. |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by Abi on Jan 9th, 2004, 11:34pm Yes and if I know anything about you lot you'll soon be yelling for one a day ::) ;) |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by Rachel on Jan 9th, 2004, 11:41pm on 01/09/04 at 23:34:36, Abi wrote:
What a fantastic idea Abi. Can't wait for my daily dose of Augusta :) |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by Vikki on Jan 9th, 2004, 11:41pm on 01/09/04 at 23:34:36, Abi wrote:
Darn! She's rumbled the plot!! |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by Abi on Jan 9th, 2004, 11:45pm :o :o How do you think I'm going to have time for that?? I'm supposed to be wokring................ I mean, I am supposed to be working. My dear children, you must be content with Augusta as and when I have time (and inspiration) to write her. *wanders off muttering about people who don't seem to think you go to Uni to work* :P |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by Vikki on Jan 9th, 2004, 11:58pm *wonders who has misinformed Abi in this manner* ;) ;D |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by KB on Jan 10th, 2004, 12:31am on 01/09/04 at 23:45:33, Abi wrote:
*wonders how Vikki knows when she doesn't go to Uni* And Abi, it's also healthy to take time off work and do other things. |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by Lesley on Jan 10th, 2004, 10:07am Abi - think the tales of Augusta are wonderful and am really looking forward to more! ;D |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by Cumbrian_Rachel on Jan 10th, 2004, 4:18pm Brilliant stuff!!! Can't wait for the next dose! |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by Kat on Jan 10th, 2004, 9:27pm on 01/09/04 at 01:03:46, Rachel wrote:
Totally agree!!! Loved it - more soon, and v v v v v v quickly ;D ;D ;D ;D |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by KB on Jan 10th, 2004, 9:29pm More, please! More, please! More, please! More, please! More, please! More, please! More, please! More, please! More, please! More, please! More, please! More, please! More, please! More, please! More, please! More, please! More, please! More, please! More, please! More, please! More, please! More, please! More, please! More, please! More, please! More, please! More, please! More, please! More, please! More, please! More, please! More, please! More, please! More, please! More, please! More, please! More, please! More, please! More, please! More, please! |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by Rosalie on Jan 10th, 2004, 9:51pm *Echoes KB's sentiments but far too lazy to type it all...* |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by KB on Jan 10th, 2004, 10:31pm *murmurs those wonderful words 'cut and paste'* |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by Rosalie on Jan 10th, 2004, 10:51pm What a jolly splendacious idea... More, please! More, please! More, please! More, please! More, please! More, please! More, please! More, please! More, please! More, please! More, please! More, please! More, please! More, please! More, please! More, please! More, please! More, please! More, please! More, please! More, please! More, please! More, please! More, please! More, please! More, please! More, please! More, please! More, please! More, please! More, please! More, please! More, please! More, please! More, please! More, please! More, please! More, please! More, please! More, please! hehehehehe... |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by Abi on Jan 10th, 2004, 11:01pm I will, I will, when I get back to Uni, unpacked etc. I PROMISE I'll write more, but at the moment I have no time! I'm going back tomorrow, though. |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by xanthe on Jan 10th, 2004, 11:07pm *sureptitiously encouraging the Augusta-bunnies* |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by Abi on Jan 10th, 2004, 11:19pm *beats Augusta bunnies off and flings clothes into trunk* |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by Rachel on Jan 11th, 2004, 1:17am ** wonders why Abi's trunk has a luggage label for Spain on it ** |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by KB on Jan 11th, 2004, 6:05am *suspects Abi may be trying to escape the |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by Lesley on Jan 11th, 2004, 9:53am World Wide Web - unless Abi is going to the International Space Station she can't get away!! |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by KB on Jan 11th, 2004, 10:14am *shakes head sadly* The lengths some people will go to... |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by Rachel on Jan 11th, 2004, 11:55am Does the International Space Centre not have an internet link then? |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by PatMac on Jan 11th, 2004, 1:28pm Maybe that's why no-one has admitted to posting from there? |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by Vikki on Jan 11th, 2004, 9:10pm Surely they must have internet there! How else do they check their e-mails? ;) |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by Chloe on Jan 11th, 2004, 9:22pm *applauds, satamps fets, whisles* Thanks Abi :) |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by KB on Jan 11th, 2004, 10:40pm on 01/11/04 at 21:10:34, Vikki wrote:
Maybe the poor things don't get emails! :'( |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by Lesley on Jan 11th, 2004, 11:04pm Well perhaps she's disappeared off to Mars then - anything that goes there seems to lose contact with Earth fairly quickly! |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by KB on Jan 11th, 2004, 11:30pm *lol* Lesley, that's mean! |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by Abi on Jan 12th, 2004, 1:03pm *wandering round in a galaxy many light years from earth and wondering why messages from CBBers keep popping up wherever I go* |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by PatMac on Jan 12th, 2004, 2:04pm *Envisages little green scientists on Alpha Centauri deciding that as this is the busiest board on the internet, it will reveal all of humanity.* conclusions so far: Male to female ratio approx 1 to 298. Yibbling is a ritual perpetuated to appease a powerful being called TEM. (further research needed to discover if this is a religious rite or not) Human females (and occasional males) have abandoned a physical life for one based on virtual reality and are so advanced that they live in several parallel universes at once. Human diet consists of chocolate in all varieties and alcohol. |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by Vikki on Jan 12th, 2004, 3:04pm Are you saying these conclusions would be incorrect, PatMac? ::) |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by Chloe on Jan 12th, 2004, 6:19pm Please may we have some more! :) |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by KB on Jan 12th, 2004, 11:18pm *giggle* Very clever, PatMac! And Abi, I hope those little messages start poking you instead of just appearing in front of you! |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by Lesley on Jan 13th, 2004, 9:33am PatMac - that was wonderful!8oo Those poor Alpha Centuri scientists! Oh and Abi? Would really like another installment of Augusta! |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by PatMac on Jan 13th, 2004, 9:51am Aw, shucks! *blushes at praise* Vikki, more research needed but first approximations say it's accurate enough for a working hypothesis. They did notice the exploding hairdresser thread and now add a tentative conclusion that human sacrifice was involved. ;D |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by KB on Jan 13th, 2004, 10:23pm Abiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii mooooooooooooooooooooore pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaase!!!! |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by Vikki on Jan 14th, 2004, 1:22am *joins KB's shouts!!* |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by Susan on Jan 14th, 2004, 1:24am Joining in the SHOUTTTTTTTTTTT |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by KB on Jan 14th, 2004, 1:27am *feeling slightly sorry for Abi* |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by Abi on Jan 16th, 2004, 11:37am *staggers in with ringing ears* I have written more, the problem is that the Uni Y drive thingy (where our work is saved) is doing weird things and can't be accessed at the moment....... thus I can't get Augusta - sorrryyy!!! |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by Carolyn P on Jan 16th, 2004, 11:46am More technology problems. Does anyone else think the TEM has given birth to a Technology Eating Monster? |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by PatMac on Jan 16th, 2004, 11:54am You could well be right - that's 3 computers down this week that we know of! |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by Abi on Jan 16th, 2004, 11:57am :o Does that mean it's my fault that the college computers aren't working :o 8oo *quickly puts on a disguise* |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by PatMac on Jan 16th, 2004, 12:32pm Not unless you are the TEM or it's offspring TEMII as it would be in America! *slightly nervous that eh TEM is tinkering with Abi's mind, inducing guilt complex* |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by Abi on Jan 16th, 2004, 12:38pm *thinks bitterly that the TEM is capable of anything - but anything* *discards false moustache and bowler hat* |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by Chloe on Jan 16th, 2004, 6:49pm Awww and i was lokking forward to more story, oh well i guess i'll have to wait for the technical problems to be sorted out ::) |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by KB on Jan 16th, 2004, 9:08pm on 01/16/04 at 11:46:06, Carolyn P wrote:
Or did we just mis-name it, and it always was the Technology Eating Monster? |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by PatMac on Jan 16th, 2004, 9:50pm LOL, KB. I wonder if the Technology Eating Monster is the father (or mother, I'm not prejudiced) of OOAO TEM, annoyed because we are chasing his ickle baby? |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by Carolyn P on Jan 16th, 2004, 11:37pm That sounds quite possible. So, now we have an enraged parental monster to deal with as well. Paaaaaat, did you know about this? |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by Pat on Jan 16th, 2004, 11:59pm I do now, Carolyn!! You lot don't expect me to use this in my drabble, do you? I've only just rescued you all!!!! ::) ::) :o |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by Pat on Jan 17th, 2004, 12:01am on 01/13/04 at 09:51:31, PatMac wrote:
What on earth (or Centauri!!) would they make of a thing like the TEM that sucked living entities into computers!!!! :o |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by Carolyn P on Jan 17th, 2004, 12:04am on 01/16/04 at 23:59:00, Pat wrote:
Well if you want to leave us at it's mercy that is your decision of course. :'( |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by KB on Jan 17th, 2004, 3:50am on 01/16/04 at 23:59:00, Pat wrote:
Well, of course you have to use it! We can't just ignore it - look what happened when we tried that with TEM Jnr. |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by PatMac on Jan 17th, 2004, 8:14am on 01/17/04 at 00:01:49, Pat wrote:
How do we know that it (TEM) is not a native of Alpha Centauri and the scientists only found us because they were tracking the trail of destruction it has caused everywhere it stopped? You may not just be saving the CBBers but the whole universe! :o Sorry to put more responsibility on your shoulders. ;) ETA Back up your computers! |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by KB on Jan 17th, 2004, 10:57am *suddenly feeling rather sorry for Pat* :o |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by PatMac on Jan 17th, 2004, 11:51am *Air of innocence* Why, KB? |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by KB on Jan 17th, 2004, 12:00pm Not you, PatMac. Pat who was writing about the TEM in her other drabble. |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by Pat on Jan 17th, 2004, 7:35pm Thank you KB!! Everyone should be sorry for me!! I would appreciate the loan of a very inventive, but not twisted, plot bunny to help me!! |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by Vikki on Jan 17th, 2004, 9:18pm *hopes Abi's uni fixes the 'puters soon"!!* |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by KB on Jan 17th, 2004, 9:43pm on 01/17/04 at 19:35:28, Pat wrote:
I'm sorry, Pat, but there ain't no such animile! |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by PatMac on Jan 17th, 2004, 10:01pm *Feeling a little guilty about introducing Alpha Centauri and giving Pat and her plot bunnies a headache.* I read too much Sci Fi! |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by KB on Jan 17th, 2004, 10:32pm *suddenly wondering whether it would be possible to cross over the CS and Sci-Fi, without lowering ourselves to the Dr. Venables standard* |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by Vikki on Jan 17th, 2004, 10:50pm I'm sure it would be..... |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by KB on Jan 17th, 2004, 10:52pm Sadly, I have no time... |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by Pat on Jan 17th, 2004, 10:57pm KB there may be no PBs in Australia that are not twisted - I wouldn't know about that, never having been there. However, I can asure you that the little pet that helped me with Librarian did not have a twisted part to her! She ran screaming at the thought of another monster, though. I think she was frightened! |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by KB on Jan 17th, 2004, 11:04pm She must be one of a kind! |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by Abi on Jan 19th, 2004, 12:18pm Hurrah, Y-drive is back up............. Augusta returns. Augusta and the Handcuffs Augusta had settled down well at the Chalet School, and by this time most of its members were fairly well accustomed to her. The previous day she had come to the conclusion that her two best friends, Mollie and Kathie, were to be trusted with a secret, and correspondingly she produced a cardboard box in the privacy of a corner of the common room. “What’s in there?” asked Mollie, who suffered from insatiable curiosity. Augusta’s lips curved mysteriously, and she opened one flap of the lid. “What is it?” Mollie persisted, attempting to peer in under the other flap. Augusta opened it to display a large number of variously sized parcels wrapped in brown paper. “It’s my box of Things,” she explained, removing a package and unwrapping it. Something small and hairy fell out and Mollie leapt back with a smothered squeak. “Oh! What – oh!” she sat down again with an irrepressible giggle as Augusta picked it up and carefully affixed it to her upper lip. “A – moustache,” said Kathie blankly. Augusta beamed at her and the moustache fell off. “What on earth have you got a moustache for, Gussie?” questioned Kathue as Augusta pressed that article back into place. “For disguise, of course, silly,” Augusta spoke as though she were talking to an imbecile child. “It – well, it disguises you. So people don’t know you’re you,” she added helpfully. Kathie grinned and Mollie rolled her eyes violently at the ceiling. Augusta was slightly chagrined at this response to one of her most prized possessions, but in a spirit of Christian forgiveness she decided to proceed onto the next parcel. This clanked and rattled as she took it up. “Ah!” she cried gleefully and tore the paper off to reveal a pair of handcuffs and a key. “Look, they work!” She advanced purposefully on Mollie, who emitted a slight shriek and expressed her lack of desire to participate in the experiment in forcible terms. Augusta turned to Kathie, but she too appeared to be unenthusiastic. Augusta looked hurt. “Don’t you want to try them?” “No thanks,” said Kathie. “Well, I don’t see why.” “Because we’ve seen what happens when you’re in a thing,” said Kathie, darkly. “I’m not in them,” pointed out Augusta tartly. “No that’s not what I meant – ” “Then why did you say I was?” “I didn’t.” “You did.” “I didn’t. Do you think I can’t hear what I say with my own ears?” “Now you’re being silly,” said Augusta firmly. “You must know you don’t talk with your ears.” “What – ?” spluttered Kathie. Mollie decided it was time to interfere. “Yes, well, maybe you should put them on yourself, Gus,” she suggested. Augusta turned on her. “How can I?” “On your feet?” Augusta seized on the suggestion with alacrity. “Jolly good idea,” she applauded, carefully clipping the handcuffs round her ankles. “The key’s only to unlock them,” she explained. “Look, they work, don’t they?” “Yes,” ageed Kathie. “Pity we can’t keep you in them all the time.” Augusta threw the key at her and at the same moment the bell rang for lessons. |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by Rachel on Jan 19th, 2004, 1:36pm on 01/17/04 at 19:35:28, Pat wrote:
Guess that's mine all ruled out then! And Abi. MORE PLEASE! |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by Vikki on Jan 19th, 2004, 2:44pm 8oo 8oo 8oo Yay!! More soon please Abi!!! |
||
Title: Re: All of Augusta Post by Lesley on Jan 19th, 2004, 6:39pm 8oo waiting for key to fly out of a window or down a drain! 8oo Really missed this Abi - more please! |
||
The Chaletian Bulletin Board » Powered by YaBB 1 Gold - SP 1.1! YaBB © 2000-2002, Xnull. All Rights Reserved. |