It was now getting quite dark, and he hurried away with his prize. He got home in safety. He crept up the stair, and peeped in at the keyhole, to see that the coast was clear. But no! he saw his father sitting in his chair. There was an old iron pot in a recess on one side of the stair, in which Tom used to keep his numerous “things,” and there he deposited his prize until he could unpack it in the morning. He now entered the house as if nothing had happened. “Late as usual, Tam,” said his father. No further notice was taken. Tom got his supper shortly after, and went to bed.
Before getting into bed, he went a little out of way to get undressed, and then, as much unseen as possible, he crept down beneath the blankets. His brother, having caught sight of his nudity, suddenly called out, “Eh, mother, mother, look at Tam! he hasna gotten on his sark!” Straightway his mother appeared at the bedside, and found that the statement was correct. Then the father made his appearance. “Where’s your shirt, sir?” “I dinna ken.” “What! dinna ken!” addressing his wife—“Where’s my strap?” Tom knew the power of the strap, and found that there was no hope of escaping it.
The strap was brought! “Now, sir, tell me this instant, where is your shirt?” “It’s in the bole on the stair.” “Go and get it, and bring it here immediately.” Tom went and brought it, sorrowfully enough, for he dreaded the issue. “And what have you got in it?” “A yellow bumbees’ byke.” “A what?” exclaimed his father and mother in a breath. “A yellow bumbees’ byke.” “Did I not tell you, sir,” said his father, “only the other day, and made you promise me, not to bring any more of these things into the house, endangering and molesting us as well as the whole of our neighbours. Besides only think of your stripping yourself in a wood, to get off your shirt to hold a bees’ byke!”
“But this is a new ane,” said Tom, “it’s made o’ paper.” “Made o’ fiddlesticks!” “Na, I’ll let ye see it.” “Let it alone, I don’t want to see it. Go to bed at once, sir, or I shall give you something (shaking his strap) that will do you more good than bees’ bykes!”
THE WASP’S NEST.
Before the old couple went to bed, they put Tom’s shirt into a big bowl, poured a quantity of boiling water over it, and after it was cold, they opened the shirt, and found—a Wasps’ Nest!
CHAPTER II.
SCHOOLS AND SCHOOLMASTERS.
Edward was between four and five years old when he went to school. He was sent there principally that he might be kept out of harm’s way. He did not go willingly; for he was of a roving, wandering disposition, and did not like to be shut up anywhere. He hated going to school. He was confined there about four hours a day. It might seem very little to some, but it was too much for him. He wanted to be free to roam about the Inches, up the Denburn, and along the path to Rubislaw, bird-nesting.