II.
When Nurse returned to the house with Ettie the first thing she saw was the turf beneath the nursery window strewn with every possible thing that Master Tom could find. He himself was looking out of the nursery window with an armful of Ettie's frocks and sashes, which he aimed at Nurse and her charge as they came nearer the house.
PLAYING AT RAINY WEATHER. (See p. [90].)
"Oh dear! shan't I be glad when you go back to school, Master Tom. Here's an hour's good work for me in carrying back all these things."
And Nurse wrathfully ascended to the nursery, but Master Tom was not there.
"Well," said Nurse, "it's a good thing he's gone off by himself, and not got Miss Ettie with him. You stay here and play with your dolls, and I'll run down and pick up your frocks and shoes."
So Nurse, having settled Ettie with her playthings, departed.
But she had not been gone a minute before Master Tom put his head in at the door.
"Ettie," said he, "come down into the drawing-room, and we'll have the greatest fun in the world. I've got a large umbrella and water-bottles, so we'll play at rainy weather."
Up jumped Ettie.
"Hush! don't make a noise, or some one will hear us. Come very softly."
And Ettie, on tiptoes, followed Tom to the drawing-room, where, having locked the door, he provided Ettie with a large umbrella.
"Now sit down on the floor," said he, "and hold it over you. You must pretend that it is a rainy day, and that you are obliged to shelter under it."
Down went Ettie on the floor, and up went the umbrella.
"Now," continued Master Tom (who had borrowed a pair of high boots so that, at least, he should not get wet), "I shall pour water over the umbrella and it will splash down like rain. You must say, 'What a dreadful day! What a dreadful storm!'"
"Yes," answered Ettie. "Splash, splash, splash! what a storm! what a storm!"
And down came the water, splashing Ettie's velvet frock and wetting her shoes, and making pools on the drawing-room carpet. What fun it was! so Master Tom thought, and so did Ettie; and the more he emptied the water-bottles the more they both shouted with glee.
Guided by the noise, Nurse soon arrived at the door.
"Open the door! open the door!"
But Master Tom took no notice. Nurse might batter away as she liked; he was safe inside.
"What are you doing?"
"Playing at rain," cried Ettie; "my frock and my shoes all wet. It is rainy day, Nurse."
"The road is all of puddles," said Master Tom; "splash, splash; don't you hear it?"
Yes, Nurse did hear it, and wondered what it was.
"I've finished the bottles," said Master Tom; "now for the watering-can, it's quite full. It will come down like a shower-bath, Ettie."
"Oh! oh! oh!" gasped Ettie, for the umbrella slipped from her hand and she received the contents of the watering-can on her head, neck, and arms. Then Ettie, for the first time, began to cry.
"You bad boy," cried Nurse in a state of despair; "open the door or I will have it broken open."
Master Tom unlocked the door, and then making a rapid retreat to one of the windows, he leaped through it almost before Nurse had opened the door.
Nurse held up her hands in dismay. The beautiful drawing-room carpet was soaked with water, and in the midst, crouched on the floor, sat Ettie, with her hair and her fine velvet frock dripping.
"Tom poured water," sobbed Ettie, as Nurse lifted her off the ground.
Nurse rang the bell lustily, and the housemaid came running to see what was the matter.
"What will the mistress say?" said Jane as she looked at the carpet; "I shouldn't wonder if it is spoiled altogether."
"I know what I should say, and what I shall say!" said Nurse; "I shall tell the mistress that if something isn't done to curb Master Tom, he'll be such a plague, that no one will care to see him. I've had such a day with him to-day as I don't intend to have again!"
And Nurse carried Ettie off to the nursery, where she took off her wet clothes, and put her into a warm bed. For Ettie was shivering, though it was a hot day, and Nurse gave out that she thought Master Tom would make his sister quite ill.
Which opinion reached Tom's ears; so he crept upstairs cautiously.
"Nurse, nurse," he said, "is Ettie very bad?"
"She's got a shivering and a shaking, and it may be an inflammation," said Nurse severely, "and what shall you say if, by your mischievous doings, you have hurt your sister!"
Master Tom's soul was filled with terror.
"I don't know how it may end," continued Nurse, "but the best thing you can do is to go downstairs and sit in the dining-room till master and mistress come home. Go away from here."
And Nurse shut the door and bolted it; and Tom, feeling more miserable than he had ever felt in his life, went away, but not to the dining-room.
He went to his own little room, where, with a white face, he watched, till his mother came home. He would tell her everything, and he knew that she would let him just look at Ettie before he went to bed. And he said to himself—
"I will never get into mischief again."
It was a good resolve; let us hope that he kept it.
THE MAIDS AND THE MAGPIE.
Three little maids and a magpie
Went out one day for a walk;
The little maids hunted for flowers,
The magpie did nothing but talk.
"I've three little maidens to care for,
Each one from dangers to save—
Wild dogs or runaway horses—
What a good thing I am brave!"
Soon they were laden with flowers—
Bunches of red, white, and blue;
Great ox-eyed, snowy-leaved daisies,
Harebells, and bright poppies too.
Then they turned homeward together,
Magpie still hopping before,
Passed through the wood and the village,
Came to the rectory door.
There stood a quiet grey pussy—
Magpie flew off in a fright.
So, after all his vain boasting,
Proved himself coward—not knight!
Frances Hay.
CHILDREN'S GAMES IN DAYS OF OLD.
Both my little nieces had been unwell. They were not very ill, but they were shut up in one room for a time, and they found it rather difficult to amuse themselves all day long, without having their lessons to do or their brothers to play with. I told them a tale every afternoon, when the light was getting dim, and the fire was poked into a bright blaze; but I came to the end of my store at last.
"Oh, auntie! what shall we do now if you can't tell us any more stories?" said Maggie. "We read such a lot that we really don't want to be read to."
"Let us have a nice talk," I said.
"But what shall we talk about?" asked Edith, looking into the fire, as if she could read something there. "Oh, I know, auntie! tell us about the time when you were a little girl; tell us all about your pet toys."
"Auntie has told us that so often," said Maggie.
"Let us talk about something very old, and yet quite new to both of you," I said. "What do you think the children played with hundreds and hundreds of years ago?"
"Didn't they have dolls?" asked Maggie.
"Yes, they had dolls, but not like yours. They were small, and their arms and legs were fastened on with bits of wire or wood."
"What were they made of?" asked Edith.
"They were generally made of clay or terra-cotta, but sometimes of wood or wax. The hair was often ornamented with rows of beads, and sometimes the dolls were painted all over with very bright colours, to please the little ones to whom they were given. They used to make little toy animals, too, and in Greece they had those small dancing figures which we call marionets."
"Have they found anything besides dolls?"
"Yes; there are some little toys at the British Museum which were found in Greece and Turkey. One of them is a woman kneading bread; another is a black boy sitting on a pony, with a basket of fruit in front of him. If ever you see them, you will think you are very fortunate little children to have such beautiful toys."
"But I don't care about dolls," said Edith, blushing a little, for she had been grumbling because her mother would not buy her a new one. "I'd rather have a big ball. Did those old children play at ball, auntie?"
"Oh, yes! The very oldest we know of—the Egyptian children—had balls of leather and some of painted china."
"I shouldn't like that," remarked Edith. "Fancy Charlie with an earthenware ball! he'd break all the windows in the house."
"I don't suppose they let the children throw the hard balls about much. The Greeks in later times loved ball as much as you do, but they played it in a different way. They used to sing and dance at the same time. Can you think of any word that we have which means dancing, and yet sounds like a game?"
"Like a game of ball, auntie?" said Maggie.
"I know!" cried Edith clapping her hands; "you've just said it, Maggie—a ball. Don't you know people always dance at a ball."
The children were very much pleased to find out that the grown-up people's amusement took its name from one of their toys, and that the short songs, or ballads, which we sing came from the songs which the Greeks sang whilst they played ball.
"Did they play ball in any other way?" asked Maggie.
"Sometimes it was put on the middle line, between the two parties playing, and each party tried to seize it, and throw it over the adversary's goal-line."
"Why, that's like our own football, isn't it, auntie?"
"Yes; the Epikoinos, or common game of ball played by the Greek children, is really the great-great-great-grandfather of our football."
"Had those children any hoops?" asked Edith.
"The Romans had hoops, and even the same kind of hooked stick, but they played very differently from what we do. They tried to snatch the hoop from each other with the hook."
"I'm glad I am not a Roman, then," said Edith, "for I do love a good straight run with my hoop; and that must have been more like fighting than playing. But do tell us some more about those children's games. It seems so strange to think they had balls and hoops like us."
"They had whip-tops, too," I said. "And some people say that the great Emperor Augustus used to play at marbles when he was a boy. You have seen Charlie and Tom play with knucklebones; the Greek children had them too, and sometimes there were numbers on them, and each bone had a different name. Backgammon and draughts were played by the Greeks, and we see by some of the pictures on the tombs in Egypt that the game of draughts was very popular there."
"But hadn't they any nice romping games?" asked Maggie.
"Yes. Blind man's buff was a great favourite with the Greeks and Romans. And they were very fond of playing a game which was known as oyster-shell."
"Do you mean making grottoes? I don't call that romping."
"The children were divided into equal numbers on each side of a line drawn on the ground; one party would be called white, the other black. They then tossed an oyster-shell into the air, and whichever side came upwards, one of that party ran off. If it was the dark, one of the blacks ran away, and one of the whites dashed after him. As soon as Mr. Black was caught, he had to take Mr. White on his shoulders and carry him to the camp, where he remained till all the others were caught. This is the origin of our prisoner's base.'"
"But that is a boy's game," said Maggie. "I want to know about the girls'."
"They played blind man's buff, as I told you just now; then there was 'runaway,' or 'touch,' which was like our game. One girl would shut her eyes whilst the others hid. A place of refuge, or, as we call it, home, was fixed upon, and she had to try and touch some of the others before they could get safe there. Kiss-in-the-ring was very popular too, but the girl used to hold the boy by the ears as she kissed him, and this was called pitcher-fashion."
"Our pitchers have not two handles," remarked Edith.
"No, but they had a handle on each side in those days. Then the Greeks used to play a game like our follow-my-leader, called 'Commands,' and all sorts of funny things were ordered to be done by those who took part in it."
Just then the bell rang for me to go down to dinner.
"Oh, auntie, don't go yet!" cried both children; "we haven't heard half enough."
"I will just tell you one thing more, and then I must go," I said. "There was a very favourite game played hundreds of years ago in Asia, called 'Kings and Subjects.' One day a little boy named Cyrus was playing at it with the children of the village in which he lived. This little boy was about ten years old, and had been adopted by a shepherd. He was chosen king by the boys, and having appointed his ministers, he set each of his companions to do certain work. One boy refused, and Cyrus ordered him to be flogged. The boy was angry, and ran off to tell his father, who was one of the chief men in the place. This man was very indignant that his boy should be beaten by a common shepherd's son, and went to King Astyages to complain. The king sent for Cyrus, and asked him how he dared to treat the son of a great man in that way.
"Cyrus answered bravely that he had only done what was just; he had been chosen king, and he ought to have been obeyed. Astyages was very much surprised by this answer, and began to look more closely at the fearless boy; then he saw that he was very like himself. He sent for the shepherd, and after many questions, he found that this little Cyrus was his own grandson who was supposed to be dead. So the sham king really became the heir to the throne, and in time was a real king."
"Why, auntie, that's as good as a fairy tale!" said Edith.
"Better," I replied; "for it is true, and it teaches us that we ought always to try to do right, even in our games, and then we shall never be ashamed."
E. M. W.