The Secret Staircase

Описание: The Secret Staircase
Jill Barklem
It was a frosty morning. The air was crisp and cold and everything sparkled in the winter sunshine. The little mice hurrying along the path turned up their collars and blew on their paws in an effort to keep warm.
“Merry Midwinter, “ panted Dusty Dogwood, scurrying past Mr Apple and the Toadflax children with a huge covered basket. Mr Apple and the children with a huge covered basket. Mr Apple and the children were busy too, dragging great sprays of holly and trails of ivy and mistletoe towards the Old Oak Palace. When they arrived at the gates, they heaped all the branches on the ground and Wilfred tugged on the bell.
Lord Woodhouse and Primrose, his daughter opened the door.
“Here we are,” said Mr Apple, mopping his face, “do you want it all inside?”
“Yes, please,” said Lord Woodhouse. “We’ll start by decorating the stairs.” Eagerly, the children pulled the branches over the polished palace floors and skidded their way into the Great Hall.
“Are you two ready for tonight?” Asked Lord Woodhouse.
Primrose and Wilfred exchanged glances. That evening, after dark, all the mice would gather round a blazing fire for the traditional midwinter celebrations. A grand entertainment was planned and Primrose and Wilfred had chosen to give a recitation.
“Almost,” said Primrose, “but we’ve still got to practice and we need proper costumes.”
“You’d better see your mother about those,” replied her father. “You can practice wherever you like.”
Leaving Clover, Catkin and Teasel to go back to the wood with Mr Apple, Primrose and Wilfred took themselves off to a corner of the hall and began to go through they lines.
“When the days are the shortest, the nights are the coldest…” began Primrose, drawing an imaginary cloak around her.
“The frost is the sharpest, the year is the oldest…” continued Wilfred.
“Look out, you two,” interrupted Basil, bustling past with some bottles.
“This is hopeless,” sighed Primrose. “We cant’t rehearse here. Let’s go and ask Mama what to do.”
Lady Woodmouse was busy making caraway biscuits in the kitchen. She learned on her rolling pin ti listen to Primrose’s tale of woe.
“Why don’t you see if there’s something up un the attics for you to wear,” she said. “You could practice up there too.” She packed a little basket with bread and cheese and a jug of blackberry juice and shooed the children gently out of the kitchen........
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