V.
That night there was so much laughter in the top story of the Abercrombie house that the old Colonel himself came to the foot of the stairs and called out to know what the matter was.
"It's nobody but me," replied Little Crotchet. "I was just laughing."
Colonel Abercrombie paused, as if waiting for some further explanation, but hearing none, said, "Good-night, my son, and God bless you!"
"Good-night, father dear," exclaimed the lad, flinging a kiss at the shadow his father's candle flung on the wall. Then he turned again into his own room, where Aaron the Arab (son of Ben Ali) sat leaning against the wall, as silent and as impassive as a block of tawny marble.
Little Crotchet lay back on his bed, and the two were silent for a time. Finally Aaron said:
"The white grunter carried his play too far. He nipped a piece from my leg."
"I never saw anything like it," remarked Little Crotchet. "I thought the white pig was angry. You did that to frighten Ben Gadsby."
"Yes, little master," responded Aaron, "and I'm thinking the young man will never hunt for the smoke in the swamp any more."
Little Crotchet laughed again, as he remembered how Ben Gadsby looked as Aaron and the white pig went careening across the dry place in the swamp. There was a silence again, and then Aaron said he must be going.
"And when are you going home to your master?" Little Crotchet asked.
"Never!" replied Aaron the runaway, with emphasis. "Never! He is no master of mine. He is a bad man."
Then he undressed Little Crotchet, tucked the cover about him—for the nights were growing chilly—whispered good-night, and slipped from the window, letting down the sash gently as he went out. If any one had been watching, he would have seen the tall Arab steal along the roof until he came to the limb of an oak that touched the eaves. Along this he went nimbly, glided down the trunk to the ground, and disappeared in the darkness.
[A POPULAR SCHOOL.]
When Jacky got his new club skates he tried the old Dutch roll,
And in the course of several weeks attained his humble goal.
Then practising three hours a day, when there was ice to skate,
He learned, a fortnight later on, to cut the figure eight.
By this success encouraged, he essayed a loftier flight,
And, in a month, upon the ice his name could fairly write.
When Jacky's teacher heard of this, in truth he marvelled much,
For he had found that Jacky knew but little of the Dutch.
"In half the time you took to learn the figure eight," said he,
"You might in your arithmetic have learned the Rule of Three.
"And though your name you deftly trace with educated feet,
The penmanship you do by hand, alas! is far from neat.
"But since 'tis clear that unrequired tasks you quickest learn,
My school to an athletic club I now propose to turn;
"And then, perhaps, when tired of the stunts I'll make you do,
You'll turn for recreation to the books you now eschew."
H. G. Paine.
A BUSY DAY IN THE STOCK EXCHANGE.