Of course, these tricks did not bear being repeated. Moreover, I could perceive Louisa Hope was thinking—“All this may not be too childish for you, but it is for me.” So I said—“Now then, Louisa, write something on a piece of paper, and take care I do not see what you write.” She looked surprised, but immediately complied. “Fold it up very small,” said I. “Hold it to the right,—what are you afraid of? Stretch your arm straight out, it won’t hurt you! Now to the left. Now towards the ceiling. Now towards the floor. Now put it on the floor, and place on it a candlestick, a box, or anything that will completely cover it.” All this took up some time; and she became a little excited, while the younger ones were intensely interested.
“Nay,” said I, “stand upon it, so as completely to cover it. I will tell you what is on the paper all the same.”
“What?” said she, with her eyes very wide open. After a moment’s silence, I coolly said, “You are upon it.” On which ensued shouts of laughter from the little ones; while she, springing away from the paper, cried—“Is that all?” but could not help laughing too.
I had one more trick for her in store. I took six pieces of paper, placed three of them on the back of my hand, and then, as a preliminary, blew them away with an air of great mystery—informing my audience, at the same time, that they were going to see something they did not expect. Then, placing the other three pieces in my hand, I said—
“Which of these three pieces do you desire shall remain on my hand, when I blow on them?” The children drew round. Louisa looked keenly at me, and then, with decision, selected her piece. I immediately placed my forefinger on it, and blew the others away; while the children laughed and clapped their hands; and Louisa exclaimed, with anger at herself for having been deceived into expecting anything better—“Oh, Mrs. Cheerlove, anybody could do that!”
Sponge-cakes and roast apples concluded the evening.
Two dozen rosy little country children and more came to my door this morning, with their little nosegays of cowslips, primroses, blue-bells, and cuckoo-flowers, tied at the top of small peeled wands, chanting their artless rhyme of
“Please to remember the first of May,
For ’tis the ladies’ garland-day;”