My memories of Worzel Gummidge only go back as far as the British TV series starring Jon Pertwee - best known as the third Doctor Who - and Una Stubbs. They played Gummidge and Aunt Sally. So I expected the book to be a nice, sweet children's fantasy about a scarecrow who comes to life and befriends two lonely kids recovering from whooping cough. Well, I can only suppose the youth of 1930s Britain was made of more Spartan stuff than today's delicate sprogs.
Susan, the little girl in the story, is sitting along in the farmhouse long after her usual bedtime when Gummidge pays his first visit:
"[Susan] had the sense to know that if she spoke she would be noticed, and that if she were noticed she would be sent to bed, When the farmer and his wife had left the kitchen, the latch rattled again. The tortoiseshell cat stopped washing her ears, and glanced over her shoulder. Then the door opened very slowly, and a strange-looking visitor shambled into the kitchen.
'Evenin'!' said the scarecrow... 'You needn't be scared,' he told her. 'It's only me!'"
Gummidge is a creature with a head made from a turnip and has a "widely-grinning mouth". 'You needn't be scared!' If I had been in Susan's place I would have shat myself.
Gummidge is prone to grumpy sulks when he feels himself offended and becomes quite rude and he is happy to let the children take the blame when he steals Mrs. Briggs' washing. After that there is a sequence in which Gummidge discusses with Susan and John his fate of being burned alive when the farmer decides he no longer has a use. It's quite raw stuff for an expected readership of 8 to 11 year olds.
The arrival of the gypsies in the village gives rise to some sharp prejudicial remarks:
"A painted yellow van was rumbling and rattling down the street. Running by the side of it was a lurcher dog, and sitting on the flap at the back was a row of gypsy children. Their eyes were as black and bright as elderberries and they had mischievous, monkey faces. A blue van followed the yellow one... Queer smells of stew and rabbit skins and oily leather filtered out through the open doorways of the vans."
Which is followed by Gummidge stealing a human baby and replacing it with what everyone thinks is a scarecrow baby with a "remarkably turnipy-looking" face. It later turns out to be the child of one of the gypsy women.
That leaves the scarecrows' big fight in which Gummidge and his scarecrow friends attack the Swede, a new scarecrow who had taken over Gummidge's field:
"Gummidge slapped the Swede in the face. Upsidaisy trundled along and butted him in the middle, another scarecrow wrenched his arm so violently that it came out of his sleeve and fell to the ground. They all flocked round, pulling, tugging and twisting, looking like so many rooks on a newly-sown furrow...
"Just at that moment, one of the lady scarecrows seized hold of the Swede's head, and jerked it off its pole.
"'How very, very horrid,' cried Susan as the head came spinning into her lap."
Despite the happy ending, think carefully who you give the book to. A sensitive child of today may not react as calmly to the idea of a decapitated head plopping into someone's lap as the rugged ragamuffins of pre-war days.