“There it is!” cried Alie at last, glancing upwards at a high shelf, on which were ranged divers of Jonas’s bottles.
“Get it down!” said the boy, who, to judge by his tone, thought himself equal to an admiral, at the least.
“I don’t think that I can,” replied Alie; “I can’t reach the shelf, and there’s another book and a heavy bottle too on the top of ‘Robinson Crusoe.’”
“Goose! can’t you get a chair?” was the only reply vouchsafed.
Alie slowly dragged a heavy chair to the spot, while Johnny commenced singing—
“Britons never, never shall be slaves!”
considering of course as exceptions to the rule all gentle, helpless, little British girls, who happen to have strong, tyrannical brothers.
“There!—mind!—take care what you’re about!” he cried, as he watched Alie’s efforts to accomplish the task for which she had hardly sufficient strength or height. Scarcely were the words uttered when down with a crash came the bottle and the books, almost upsetting poor Alie herself!
Johnny jumped up from the ground in an instant.
“What is to be done!” he exclaimed, looking with dismay at the broken bottle, whose green contents, escaping in all directions, was staining the floor and also the book, which was one of Jonas’s greatest treasures.