“I’d rather stay here, sir,” said Rollo, in a supplicating tone. “If you’ll only tell us how we can put our light,” he continued, “then we shall not interrupt you again. We shall not have any thing to interrupt you for.”
“Well,” said his father, “I’ll do that, and then I’ll keep an account, and after you have interrupted me three times more, you must go out. Will you agree to that?”
Rollo and Lucy both said that they would agree to that, and so Mr. Holiday left his work, and went over to the sofa. He saw at once that the table was not large enough to render it safe to put the lamp and the book upon it together. So he brought a chair, and placed it near to the little table, and then laid the book, open, upon the chair. The chair was placed so near to the table that the light shone down upon the book.
“Now,” said he, “children, you must go and get a couple of crickets, or one long one, and put before the chair for your seats. So the crickets will serve for your chairs, the chair for your table, and the table for your light-stand.”
They accordingly went and got the crickets, and they found that the arrangement answered very well. They could see the pictures distinctly, and there was no danger now that the lamp would fall down. Mr. Holiday laid out a small piece of paper upon the corner of his table, and said that, every time that they interrupted him, in any way, he should make a mark upon that paper, and that, as soon as there were three marks made, they must go out.
The children turned over the leaves of the great book very carefully for some time, and were much amused by them. Rollo was greatly delighted at the picture of a dog standing on his head; and he talked and laughed about him with a great deal of glee. Lucy said, “Hush!” to him several times, for she was afraid that he would make so much noise that her uncle would be interrupted, and make a mark against them. But he seemed to take no notice of it.
At last, they got through the book, and Rollo shut it up and put it away. They then did not immediately know what to do next; but very soon Lucy said that, if she only had a pencil and a piece of paper, she would draw Rollo a house. Royal, she said, had showed her how.
“Only,” said she, “this chair would not be a good table to draw upon.”
The chair was what is commonly called a cane-bottomed chair. The seat was made of narrow strips of ratan, woven together in such a way as to leave a great many curious octagonal interstices. This did not prevent its answering a very good purpose as a support for a book; but it was plain that it would not do at all to write upon.
“I know how to manage,” said Rollo.