Baby brother 9/9

As Jennifer Jane had expected, there were two main forms of entertainment. Groups of two or three sang songs in harmony, while those who’s singing voices were not so strong, formed dance groups and set the stage rocking.

The only exception to this programme was one girl who told jokes. It rather surprised Jennifer Jane, as some of them were very funny ones that she hadn’t heard before. Neither had most of the audience judging by the hearty laughter that greeted each punch line.

Then unexpectedly Abigail went up on to the stage.

“As you all know my particular apprentice is human and as far as we are aware is the only one ever to have achieved third year status. Not only that, but her mother tells me that she is going to round off the evening in a way that used to be common place in her own world about a hundred years ago. Witches and wizards, ladies and gentlemen, please give an encouraging hand for third year apprentice Jennifer Jane Bell!”

Jennifer Jane walked up to the stage feeling very embarrassed amongst a storm of clapping. At last the applause died down and she began her monologue in the traditional way that mum said auntie Dot had always used.

“Ladies and gentlemen, a little poem entitled ‘Baby Brother.’”

She recited the verses that she’d been learning in her spare time over the last week or so and was very pleased when she reached the end without having made any mistakes.

‘That’s why I’m writing this letter, in order to let you know, please come and finish the baby, with love from little Flo.’

She walked back to her seat amid further applause. “Well done,” said mum and dad together. “Auntie Dot would have been proud of you!”

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Appendix.

For any one interested in such things, Auntie Dot was my mother’s aunt. She lived in a cottage on a farm in Essex in the circumstances described. I used to visit during holidays with my parents and can remember Dorothy reciting this poem, as well as the smells and egg collecting. When writing this story in Jan 1997 my mother was still alive and I wanted to use the poem in the story. Fortunately she remembered it and I copied it down. She died in July that year aged 96!

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Baby brother

A dear little baby brother has come to live with Flo
She wanted it brought to the table so it might eat and grow

"You must wait a while," said Grandma in answer to her plea for a little thing that has no teeth can’t eat like you and me

That afternoon in the corner with paper, pen and ink Flo said "Don't talk Grandma or else you'll 'sturb my fink

I'm writing a letter Grandma to put in the post tonight
And 'cause it's very 'portant I want to get it right."

'Dear God the baby you sent us is awful nice and sweet but because you've forgotten his toofies the poor little thing can't eat

That's why I'm writing this letter in order to let you know
Please come and finish the baby with love from little Flo.'

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