Such a terrible tease was Ned! Mother's patience lasted longer than any one else's, but even she was perhaps not altogether sorry when holidays were over and the boys were safely back at boarding-school. He teased the cats and the dogs and the chickens, teased the servants terribly with his mess and pranks; teased his bigger brother George, and more than all teased his good little sister Lizzie. "Lizababuff," she called herself, which was as near as her wee mouth could get to Elizabeth. George was something of a tease too, if the truth must be owned, only, beside Ned, people didn't notice him so much. Yet tease as they might, by hanging her dolls high out of reach in the walnut-tree, setting her dear black kitty afloat on the pond in a box, or laughing at her when she failed to catch little birds by putting salt on their tails, or any other way, and they had a great many, Lizzie never sulked; she forgave them directly, and wherever the boys played, in garden, orchard, or paddock, Lizzie's little fat face and white sun-bonnet could always be seen close by.
A very favorite place with the children was the paddock gate; here they would often swing for hours or amuse themselves by watching anything that might come along the road. Not much traffic passed that way, to be sure, but knowing every one in the village, they seemed to find enough to interest them.
"Here comes Tom Crippy with two baskets," cried Ned, as they all leaned over the gate one sunny afternoon,—an afternoon on which even Lizzie's sunny temper had almost given way, for both boys were in an especially teasing mood, and had brought tears very near her blue eyes more than once. "Don't they look heavy?" he went on. "My! He's got carrots and ripe apples in one. All ours are as hard as wood."
"Going to take them up to the house, Tom?"
"Not to yours, Master Ned," Tom answered, setting down his baskets and resting on a low wall. "This one is for you; but this one, with the apples, is for Mrs. Veale."
George looked at the baskets. "It is very hot, and you look tired right out," he said. "Suppose you leave Mrs. Veale's basket here while you take ours."
Tom Crippy agreed at once, and gladly made his way up to the house with his lightened load, Ned shouting after him, "I say, Tom, you may as well spare us an apple when you come back!"
"Wouldn't it be fun to hide his basket?" Ned went on; but, having offered to take care of it, both boys dismissed the idea as mean.
"Now for the apple," they said, when he returned.
In vain Tom protested, "I never promised it. It isn't mine to give! not even father's! Mrs. Veale has bought and paid for these apples."