"Hunger is good sauce," said the judge;—"here are the truants." Mr. George Keane and Miss Goldthwaite appeared now, apparently very much astonished to find themselves behind time. The judge made room for Carrie beside himself, and after looking blankly at her for a few minutes, said solemnly, "I thought I heard you say you wanted ferns; but I must have been mistaken, or possibly they haven't come up in the glen this year.—Some tea here, Alice.—Miss Goldthwaite, may I help you to a piece of cake?" The truants joined in the laugh against themselves, and the rest of the meal was passed in a perfect babel of talking.
"What shall we do now, papa?" said Alice when they had finished. "We won't be going home for a little while."
The judge looked at his watch. "Twenty minutes past five: we shall start at six. Well, I propose that each member of the company composes, within the space of ten minutes, four lines of verse descriptive of the scenery. I have brought pencils and paper; and the best writer shall have my gold pencil-case to him or her self."
There was a general exclamation, and each one declared it impossible to perform such a feat.
"Try," said the judge briefly; and he passed round the pencils and the sheets of paper. Then he laid his watch on the cloth, and gave the signal. You would have laughed at the utter stillness then, and at the perplexity on each face. Slowly the hands moved round, till the ten minutes were up, and the judge cried halt.
"You read then, judge," said Mr. Goldthwaite; "begin with your own."
"Well, here I am," said the judge with a very comical smile, and he read slowly and distinctly:—
"It seems to me that if you go
Enjoyment for to seek,
You'll find out all you want and more
Up here on Pendle Peak."
A shout of laughter greeted th is effusion, and the judge pretended to be highly offended.
"I object to the 'for' in the second line," said Mr. Goldthwaite.