They were given, Phil hurraing with such a will, that he got perfectly crimson in the face.
“Now, three cheers for little Essie,” said Kriss.
If Phil could have made more noise, he would have done so this time; as it was, in his eager desire to honor Essie, he hurraed himself sideways, like the little brown dog, and nearly cracked his throat.
“Now, boys, three cheers for Phil, our new friend.”
Didn’t they give it, though! Yes, they did, and such a royal Bengal tiger to end with, that the very windows rattled again.
To the children who do not live in New York, I ought to say that we have a splendid regiment of soldiers, called the “Light Guard,” who, whenever they cheer, always say, “Hurra! hurra! hurra! ti-g-a-r!” I don’t know why they do it, but this is what is meant by “three cheers and a tiger.”
Phil bade the farmer, his wife, and little Essie good-night with tears in his eyes, promising to come and see them every day. Mr. Wiseman had invited Kriss and the other boys to stay a week at Woodlawn, which was a most delightful fact to know and experience. A merry, merry week they all had, and you may be sure Johnny was included in every day’s pleasure, and Essie was with them very often.
And now, my darlings reading this, do you think it likely that Mr. Wiseman will ever have to send Philip away again? I do not, and I hope you are of the same opinion; but if you would like me to keep one eye on his future movements, and write to you about them, just let me know, won’t you?