But everyone said, ‘Flannel petticoats in this weather?’ so that was no go.
Noel said he would write her a poem, but Oswald had a deep, inward feeling that Mrs Simpkins would not understand poetry. Many people do not.
H. O. said, ‘Why not sing “Rule Britannia” under her window after she had gone to bed, like waits,’ but no one else thought so.
Denny thought we might get up a subscription for her among the wealthy and affluent, but we said again that we knew money would be no balm to the haughty mother of a brave British soldier.
‘What we want,’ Alice said, ‘is something that will be a good deal of trouble to us and some good to her.’
‘A little help is worth a deal of poetry,’ said Denny.
I should not have said that myself. Noel did look sick.
‘What DOES she do that we can help in?’
