CHAPTER I.
Little boys and girls—aye, and their elders also—often feel the hours very long and heavy. The latter have many causes for this feeling; but the former had better take my advice, and directly seek for some employment, which will, I promise, cure their complaint. They may have a kind mama or friend to assist them; and there are many more ways of amusing themselves than they think of. Let them listen to me, and I will tell them of a game which often entertained some young friends of mine, and was one of their plans for passing idle moments.
It was early in January that Mrs. Macdonald was quietly sitting with her sister, who had not long arrived from India. It was very cold; the shutters had been shut, the curtains drawn earlier than usual, and the ladies had made a cheerful fire to greet Mr. Macdonald on his return from his daily occupation. After so long a separation they had much to talk of, and preferred the bright blaze to the light of the lamp.
At the top of the house a very different scene was passing. Mrs. Macdonald's children and their four cousins had romped until they were tired, and were now silly enough to complain of being obliged to stop, and did not know what to do next; the elder children had good-naturedly joined in their games, and were too weary to tell stories, or continue their exertions in their behalf. The nurse had insisted on their not crowding too close to the fire, to which she maintained the baby and the tea-kettle had the best right. Little Alfred had asserted he was tired of his life, and his little cousins began crying with cold to which they were so unaccustomed, when the former started to his feet, expressing his determination that he would go to mama, who he was sure had candles, and would shew them the new puzzles papa gave them at Christmas. It was in vain to try and stop him, or to remind him that it was some time before the usual hour of going into the drawing room: the nursery was quite out of favour, and little feet hurrying down stairs, soon interrupted the ladies' conversation.
Alfred was the first to enter, and was quite disappointed at finding the lamp had not been brought in; the chilly little natives of India crowded to the fender, and all contrived to secure a piece of the warm hearthrug, or a footstool. Alfred, to compensate for his troubles, seated himself on his mama's lap, and presently assured the circle, that he "would give the whole world, if papa would come home."
"You are a silly little boy, Alfred," replied his mama; "if it were possible for you to possess the world, you would soon gladly relinquish it to any one who would take it from you. You had better learn to know more of the earth, its inhabitants, and their customs, before you undertake such a weighty charge."
All laughed at poor Alfred, until his aunt silenced them, and declared that she thought his remark might lead to much pleasant instruction; she felt sure that many of the party knew but little of the globe on which they lived; "suppose we talk on the subjects of which you are so ignorant, instead of the stories we generally relate."
Some murmured approbation; but one or two confessed they thought it would be rather like a lesson, and that their governess had that morning given them a long lecture on geography. Alfred boldly asserted that he did not like such subjects, and that he was very glad the next day's task would be history. "I long to see," he added, "what becomes of poor Charles I. I left him in prison; mama, will you tell me if he was ever made a king again?"
"I must say," answered his mother, "that you are not as grateful for your aunt's suggestion as I could wish. I am sure had you listened we might have made our accounts of different lands so interesting, that you would have found it very different from a task; but I will humour you, and this evening's amusement shall be historical. If I tell stories of former days, I shall find it difficult to suit them to your different ages; I therefore propose that all who can, shall join me in describing scenes from English history, of which you each know something. Those who listen must guess the subjects, and may be allowed to ask questions."
"We think we understand you, mama," exclaimed the children; "and if you will begin, we shall soon be able to join."
Mrs. Macdonald willingly consented; and after a few minutes, described the following circumstance:—"You must picture to yourselves the coast of a shore, where it was rather flat, and easy to land. It was crowded with a vast multitude dressed in skins, and painted with a blue dye: formidable cars, with sharp scythes fixed to the wheels, were ready to attack the enemy, who approached in large vessels, the construction of which showed more skill than the wicker boats, covered with skin, made by the people on the land. The ships were close to the shore, but none dared to leave them, until a standard bearer jumped into the water to encourage his comrades, who, following him, soon defeated the natives."
"Do let us have the date told us," begged Mary Macdonald.
"I have made my first picture so easy, that I should scarcely have thought this necessary: however, I will tell you: it was 53 years before Christ."
"Did the conquerors leave the poor savages, and return the following year?"
"Yes; and they found it so difficult to subdue them, that the enterprise was at last abandoned."
"Then, mama, I know to what you refer."
The answer was pronounced correct; and whilst Mrs. Arabin was considering what incident to relate, the last was discussed.
"Mama," said Alfred, "do you know that I think the people were very dirty to paint themselves."
"It was their idea of ornament; in these days it is difficult to imagine the unenlightened state of their minds. The blue dye which they used was extracted from a plant called woad."
"I think I remember," remarked one of the little ones, "that the conquerors came to Britain from Gaul;—but I see my aunt is ready."
"My history is a sad instance of the cruelty often attending war; the scene is laid in a public street of a magnificent city, adorned with massive buildings, laurel-crowned statues, and fine bridges over a noble river. Crowds of spectators are watching a procession, the principal figures of which are a royal prisoner, with his wife and two daughters, led in chains: the man's face bespeaks lofty indignation."
This at first puzzled the young people; but when they heard he made such a moving appeal for liberty, that his chains were struck off, the mystery was solved.
Annie had already prepared a sketch, and now begged for her turn. "I wish to show you," she commenced, "a woman with more the appearance of a warrior than a female, in her tent on the field of battle, surrounded by her children; she has put a cup of deadly poison to her lips, and now presents it to her young son: his firmness masters the weakness of his years, and he also takes a long-deep draught."
"Mama, help us to guess," was heard on all sides, but the young ones were desired first to exercise their own memories. All the cases of poisoning they had ever heard of were mentioned, but at last a hint from the relator assisted them, and the right answer was given.
Mrs. Macdonald now took the turn of one of her little nieces, and described to them a fact which had taken place some time after that just related. "A king and his courtiers are listening attentively to a holy man, who had come to their country to preach Christianity; the minds of the court had before been in darkness, but the earnestness of his auditors prophesied that they were now inclined to listen to his persuasions."
This was pronounced very difficult; many guesses were given, some fancying that it must be intended for Henry VIII. and Cranmer, but they were told that it was a much earlier date, and not later than A.D. 600. This information, after a short pause, made the true circumstance to be remembered, and the next description was of an encampment. In one of the tents the inmates are absorbed by a harper, who had sought the principal tent, and was so completely captivating them by his musical talents, that they seemed to forget both their situation and military duties.
"Did he receive money, and bury it?" was quickly asked.
"No, it was not Prince Anlaff, although you are right in fixing on a Danish camp."
The hero was such a favorite with the little historians that they soon found the right name, and Alfred reminded them that the same person invented lanterns, and proceeded to relate a story from their nice book, called "Evenings at Home," where he was represented baking cakes; the little boy was so pleased at the opportunity of talking, that he felt quite annoyed when the nurse came to tell them their tea was ready. The clock was examined to show that there had been no mistake in the time; an hour had passed so quickly, that some suspected it was not yet six.
"I wished so much for papa to come home," remonstrated Alfred; "he generally comes back long before our tea-time; I am certain it cannot be so late."
"You have, my dear boy," replied his aunt, "learnt that discontent may be cured by occupation: had you observed your mother, you would have seen by her constant glances at her watch, that she has long expected your father. I now hear his step in the hall; run and kiss him, and then go with nurse, as you have already kept her waiting some time."
Before this injunction was obeyed, they solicited a promise that they might come down the next evening at the same time, and play at the same game. This was readily granted, and they ran up stairs much happier than they had come down.
1. Invasion of Britain by Julius Caesar. B.C. 55.
2. Caractacus led prisoner through Rome. A.D. 43.
3. Boadicea. A.D. 43.
4. St. Augustine preaching to Ethelbert. A.D. 600.
5. Alfred in the Danish camp. A.D. 880.