I’d place my head where was my tail,

And drink up all the beer.

Before long the whole party seated themselves in a circle on the grass round St. Anthony’s Well, while any stranger who had chanced to pass might have supposed, from the noise and merriment, that the Saint had filled his well with champagne

and punch for the occasion, as everybody seemed perfectly tipsy with happiness. Mr. Harwood laughed [58] ]prodigiously at some of the jokes, and made a few of his own, which were none of the best, though they caused the most laughter, for the boys thought it very surprising that so grave and great a man should make a joke at all.

When Mary Forrester drank her thimbleful of water, and wished for a new doll, Peter and Harry privately cut out a face upon a red-cheeked apple, making the eyes, nose, and mouth, after which, they hastily dressed it up in pocket handkerchiefs, and gave her this present from the fairies, which looked so very like what she had asked for, that the laugh which followed was loud and long. Afterwards Peter swallowed his draught, calling loudly for a piebald pony, when Harry in his white trowsers, and dark jacket, went upon all-fours, and let Peter mount on his back. It was very difficult, however, to get Peter off again, for he enjoyed the fun excessively, and stuck to his seat like Sinbad’s old man of the sea, till at last Harry rolled round on his back, tumbling Peter head over heels into St. Anthony’s Well, upon seeing which, Mr. Harwood rose, saying, he had certainly lost his own wish, as they had behaved ill, and met with an accident already. Harry laughingly proposed that Peter should be carefully hung upon a tree to dry, till they all came down again; but the mischievous boy ran off so fast, he was almost out of sight in a moment, saying, “Now for the top of Arthur’s Seat, and I shall grow dry with the fatigue of climbing.”

The boys and girls immediately scattered themselves all over the hill, getting on the best way they could, and trying who could scramble up fastest, but the grass was quite short, and as slippery as ice, therefore it became every moment more difficult to stand, and still more difficult to climb. The whole party began sliding whether they liked it or not, and staggered and tried to grasp the turf, but there was nothing to hold, while occasionally a shower of stones and gravel came down from Peter, who pretended they fell by accident.

[59]
]“Oh, Harry!” cried Laura, panting for breath, while she looked both frightened and fatigued, “If this were not a party of pleasure, I think we are sometimes quite as happy in our own gardens! People must be very miserable at home, before they come here to be amused! I wish we were cats, or goats, or any thing that can stand upon a hill without feeling giddy.”

“I think this is very good fun!” answered Harry,

gasping and trying not to tumble for the twentieth time; “you would like perhaps to be back in the nursery with Mrs. Crabtree.”

“No! no! I am not quite so bad as that! But Harry! do you ever really expect to reach the top? for I never shall; so I mean to sit down quietly here, and wait till you all return.”