One day Harold came running home, quite out of breath; and reported that his brother Archibald, having mounted the poney in the home-mead, it had run away with him, and at last thrown him; and that he was lying in the field unable to move. His Father, accompanied by one of the servants, immediately went to the spot; they found poor Archibald, perhaps rather more frightened than hurt; though he had sprained his ankle so as to prevent his walking: fortunately, he had fallen in a soft dirty place: this had saved him from receiving more serious injury: but he was completely covered with mud. The servant carried him home; his wet clothes were taken off; his sprained ankle was properly attended to; and he was put to bed.
The next morning his Father reproved him for his folly in mounting the poney; and also for his disobedience, as he had been strictly forbidden to go into the home-mead, where the horses were at grass.
Archibald’s punishment, on this occasion, seemed sufficient: for, besides the pain he suffered, he was obliged to lie on the sofa several days; which he very much disliked; as he was an active boy, and happy only when he was running about the fields. Archibald’s thoughtlessness had frequently nearly cost him broken bones, or even his life: several times he had fallen from trees: once he went to slide upon a pond after a slight frost; the ice broke under him, he fell in; and, if a man had not happened to see him at the moment, he would most likely have been drowned.
But what was worse, Archibald was too fond of playing foolish and mischievous tricks, by which other people were injured, or put in danger. And, if we must tell the whole truth, he had gained a bad name in the neighbourhood, as a troublesome and ill-disposed boy; though, in fact, he was more idle than ill-tempered.
When the poor women in the village saw him coming along, they were used to call quickly to the little children that were playing in the road,—“Betsey, Betsey; Willy, Willy; Jem; come in, come in: here’s Master Archibald a coming.”
The widow Webb would often totter across the road, as fast as if she had been running out of a heavy shower of rain, in order to take her favourite cat out of Master Archibald’s way. Even the donkies had learned to flinch and prick their ears while he passed by them. Some people thought Archibald a much more spirited boy than his brother Harold: but I am of opinion that Harold was really the most courageous.
One morning, Harold and Archibald, in returning from a walk, passed through a meadow in which cattle were grazing: there was a bull among them. Archibald pulled off his hat, and waved it at the bull; at the same time making a bellowing noise. The animal looked up and breathed heavily. Archibald then repeated his threatening gestures. The bull then began to strike the ground with his fore foot; and he advanced several steps towards the two boys.
Seeing this, Archibald instantly ran towards the gate as fast as he could. Harold continued to walk along steadily, because he had heard that bulls often pursue persons who run away from them; but seldom attack those who do not appear to be frightened.
When they had got out of the meadow into the adjoining lane, Harold would have proceeded home; but Archibald, who had recovered from his fright, said he was determined to have a little fun with the old churl. So he filled his pockets with pebbles, and clambered into a tree in the hedge, where he knew that he should be perfectly safe, and then began hallooing and throwing stones at the bull. Harold tried to dissuade him from his sport; but Archibald never heeded what he called his brother’s preaching; he only replied by saying, “Ah now, if the bull begins to roar, you’ll be frightened out of your wits, I know.”
For some time the unoffending animal continued to graze; only now and then looking round, and moving a few steps further from the tree in which Archibald was seated. But at length, after the stones had hit him two or three times rather smartly, he began to toss his head, bellow, and scrape the ground with his foot; throwing up the earth several yards behind him. By this time, however, Archibald had spent all the pebbles which he had collected; and perceiving that Harold, who had been gathering flowers from the hedge, was now proceeding homeward, he descended from the tree, and ran after his brother.