Enid Blyton in November
The great majority of you are very good at thinking out plans for this and that, running little clubs of your own, getting up concerts, arranging fetes and sales, often with no help at all from grown-ups. And now and again, from this vast crowd of alert and independent children, some astonishingly enterprising ones stand out. This kind of children are, I think, the ones who will be our finest men and women later on — our future leaders in this and that enterprise, with plenty of ideas, and the will and courage to carry them out... There was Dorothy West, one of our Busy Bees, who, you will remember, wanted to help the P. D. S. A., and, as she had stick insects that laid eggs, thought of the brilliant idea of selling these eggs to other children, and giving the profits to the P. D. S. A. This meant an enormous amount of work — writing letters, acknowledging money, keeping lists of names, posting the eggs, and writing out the instructions... Then another child who comes to my mind is a boy, who some years ago ran a first-class library just as if he were a trained librarian... And then there was Carol Lewis, who last year ran a Club for children who wanted to help to save horses from being slaughtered... And now, in this last month, we have another enterprising youngster who, with her sister, runs a Lost Pigeon Service... Perhaps one day I shall be able to quote some fine thing you have done, and I shall be very proud to.
All the trees that shed their leaves now stand bare and brown, and very beautiful. We can see the loveliness of the great trunks, the strong, curving branches and the tracery of delicate twigs against the sky.
All the Secret Seven were thrilled to hear of Peter's new plan, and next evening they were round at Colin's to see him dress up. He really did look remarkably good!
He wore an old pair of patched trousers, and a ragged jacket. He wore a pair of great big boots thrown out by Colin's father. He had a scarf round his neck, and a big old hat over a wig made of black wool.
"You look simply frightful!" said Janet, with a giggle. "Put the mask on now."
Peter put it on, and immediately became a grinning guy, like all the other guys that were appearing here and there in the streets of the town. Scamper took one look at Peter's suddenly changed face, and backed away, growling.
— Enid Blyton's Book of the Year
The wagtail was enjoying himself. The November sun shone down on the bird-table, and the neat little bird felt hot.The water was cool and fresh. He scattered silvery drops all over himself and the table too. Some fell on to the chaffinch who primly shook them off.
"We shall have to fill the dish again," said Mollie. "How pleased the birds must be to find food, drink, and a bath all in the same place, Uncle."
The wagtail flew out of the bath. The robin at once hopped in and he, too, bathed himself well. The wagtail shook the water from his feathers, and cried 'chissic, chissic!' very loudly.
"He said 'chissic, chissic!'" said Mollie, laughing. "Is Chiswick where he lives?"