Canute and his Courtiers.
Annie spoke next "of a king dressed in his royal robes, seated on the sea-shore; he looks calmly and quietly at the waves, which roll one over another in beautiful succession, splashing his face with their silvery spray, and wetting his feet with their briny waters, whilst the sea-weeds cling to his regal attire. The courtiers are eagerly watching the waves, any thing but pleasure depicted in their countenances, and they look very much afraid of getting wet. The king is pointing with one hand to a mark set in the sand, over which the ocean is proudly dashing."
"Oh, Annie! that is too easy," exclaimed Mary.
"Not at all," interrupted Mrs. Arabin, "if it teach us to remember the lesson which the story is so well able to teach."
Mrs. Macdonald then proceeded to describe a scene where a haughty, fierce-looking man is standing by an open grave, from which his attendant soldiers are taking a body; the pale features of the corpse appear to resemble those of the proud king, who points to his followers to convey the body to the adjacent river. The bystanders are clothed in loose dresses like a carter's frock, bound round the waist by a belt, and only reaching to the knee; some have iron collars round their necks; most of them are bare-headed, but a few wear fur caps over their long hair, which, parted on the forehead, hangs down in straight locks on each side of the face. Their beards are shaven on the upper lip, and on the top of the chin; the rest long, clean and neat, divided in the middle, hangs down in two points; their shoes come up very high.
"Is that really in English history?" asked Louisa.
"Yes, my dear, about 1035."
Edward rejoined, "Canute ascended the throne 1017—he reigned eighteen years. I know, dear auntie."
Mrs. Arabin next began:—"My story is one which ought to lead us to stop and reflect; it relates to a banqueting hall, where a king and a wary-looking courtier are sitting together surrounded by attendants. The king looks earnestly and reproachfully at the nobleman, to whom he points with one hand, whilst the other is directed towards his own breast. The courtier, with a proud, defying look, yet with a lurking expression of conscious guilt, is raising a piece of bread to his half-opened mouth."
None of the party seemed able to guess this story, and even Mrs. Macdonald herself looked puzzled. Just then the door opened, and the words "Please, ma'am, the nursery tea is ready," interrupted the amusement for this evening.