A Story

    A child is the narrator of this story. He presents the adult world from a child’s point of view. The story is about a day’s outing (trip) to Porthcawl by motor-coach. The boy used to live with his uncle and his wife when he was very young. The uncle was big and noisy but his wife was small and quiet. The uncle had a small shop in front of his house.

 

    One evening when the boy was reading advertising for sheep-dip these persons came into his uncle’s shop. He left that the narrow shop would burst. They talked about their annual outing Mr. Benjamin Franklyn had collected enough money for the bus and twenty cases of light beer. But he was tired of being followed by will Sentry. He could not get privacy at all. When they told that Bill was keeping an eye on the money, Mr. Franklyn was surprised that they supposed him to be dishonest. But he was not like Bob. Then they played cards in the shop.

 

    On Sunday evening, the boy and his uncle were eating sardines and they were not allowed to play checkers.  will sentry and Mr. Franklyn came in. They had the list and everyone had paid fully. The uncle checked the list and approved it. When Bill sentry and Franklyn went out, his aunt came in and said that she Would go to her mother. When she asked his uncle Whether he liked her or the outing, He chose the outing. She hit the uncle on the head with a china dog after he lifted her on the chair. For the rest of the day, she was quiet and quick.

 

    At breakfast on Sunday morning, the boy found that the aunt had already left her house. Then the uncle told him that it was the same every year. But this year he wanted to do the difference. He wanted to take the boy with him. The bus stopped outside and they objected to his uncle bringing the boy when they talked about others. When they were out of the village they found that they had forgotten one member, old O. Jones. They had to drive back to the village. After Jones got on, Mr. Weazley wanted to go home to take his teeth, but they said that the teeth would not be necessary for him.

 

    The bus stopped outside the Mountain sheep, a small public house. The landowner welcomed them as a wolf must have welcomed the sheep. All of them went into the bar. But the boy was told to keep on watching the bus so that nobody would steal it. There were only cows. The boy looked at the cows. He had nothing else to do. Forty-five minutes passed slowly. A French onion-seller bicycled down the road and stopped at the door. The boy greeted him and followed him down the passage in and looked into the bar. They were shouting. They were all drunk. They were arguing. When Mr. Weazley came to the boy, he moved out and threw a stone at the cows. The uncle came out and everyone followed him. They had drunk the bar dry. Mr. Weazley had won a string of onions but they were unless without his teeth. They left the bar.

 

    On the way whenever a public-house passed, they had to stop because Mr. Weazley wanted to drink. Even when the bar was closed, they would drink behind the locked doors. There was a river on the way. They all stopped and went into the cool water. Some of them slipped on the some. It was better than Porthcawl.

 

    It was dusk. All the thirty members of the outing were wet and drunk. They did not mind what was happening in the world. They stopped at a public-house for a rum to keep out the cold.

 

    On the way home there was moonlight. Old O. Jones was cooking his supper in the middle of the bus.  Mr. Weazley stopped the bus, but there was not a pub. They carried out the remaining cases outside in the field. They drunk and old O. Jones cooked crushed potatoes. The boy began to sleep against his uncle’s waistcoat.