"There's Anthony's nose," said the little mother.
"Where? where?" cried the children, and looked with eager interest, as the profile of a great Roman nose was pointed out on the edge of a mountain. They were also delighted with Sugar-loaf Mountain, and wished it had really been made of sugar, for they thought they would like to eat a hole through it. As they were eagerly gazing at the splendid view which had now darkened and deepened with twilight shadows, a saucy puff of wind came round a jutting point, and in an instant blew off Minnie's round hat.
"Oh! my hat! my hat!" she screamed; "get it! get it! quick! before it goes across the Atlantic Ocean, and runs up the big mountains. Oh! get it! get it!"
How everybody around did laugh, as George jumped after the hat, which Minnie thought would walk on the Atlantic Ocean; and how Minnie jumped and laughed when he caught it just as it was flying off on its travels. I have no words to tell, but everybody after that listened to the comical talk of the Nightcap children, who caused so much merriment, that they arrived at West Point before they knew it; but had to burst out with laughter again as Minnie, gravely looking up, said, "Is this West Point? Well, I don't think it looks so very, very Pointy."
The first stars were peeping out, and the little birds had sung their evening hymns and were hushed into stillness, as the children got into the stage, the strong horses of which toiled up the short but steep ascent, and they soon arrived at their summer home. "Oh, what a beautiful cottage!" exclaimed Harry, and George, and Clara; "it seems covered with roses; it must be the Castle of Perfect Happiness."
They all hurried in, in the most delightful bustle; and the children had a grand time assisting the little mother to unpack every thing. You would have imagined, to look in at the windows, that the house was full of fishes out of water; they kept up such a continual bouncing and fluttering about, but they were not fishes, nor pollywogs, nor tadpoles, nor any thing like them; they were a company of capering children, taking all sorts of little boxes and bundles out of trunks, and putting them in the wrong places, and then running to get some more, because they liked the fun of helping.
The good-natured little mother did not think them at all in the way: she only laughed softly to herself, and would not for forty new bandboxes have given them any ear-boxes for what they were doing. No, indeed! she just let them trot about as much as they liked with the pillows, boxes, bags, and bundles, of which there seemed to be about a hundred and fifty; and when they were tired of helping, she quietly arranged the things in their proper places.
Oh! how soundly the children slept that night with the "fragrant stillness" all around them, far away from the roar and whirl of the great city. The moonlight, sweet and mournful, flooded the earth, and a white ray stole into the room where Charley lay and rested lovingly above his head.
The next day Charley was very ill indeed. Even the short journey from the city had overtasked his strength. He lay in a darkened chamber, for his mother had to shut out the sweet sunshine, his head and side were so racked with pain.
The children crept lovingly up to the door of the room they were not permitted to enter many times during the day; to hope in a whisper that he felt better, and went about the pretty cottage on tip-toe—all their merriment gone. You would hardly believe they were the same children that yesterday had kept half the people in the steamboat laughing; so changed and still were they become, through their love for their sick brother.