"How do you come to be here, then?" said Nelly; "why, dear me, just look at the counterpane hanging out of the window; how funny!"
"Why, that's the way I got out!" I said; and so I told them all about "The Castle Spectre," and "Lord Alonzo Algernon" Spooneyman, and we got into such a perfect gig of laughter, that we nearly rode off in it! (Now, don't say that's not a good joke, or I'll not tell another word of my story.)
Just then out came Poddles, looking as surprised as ever; and Nelly exclaimed, "Oh, there's that funny old dog! what do you call him?"
"His name is Poddles!" said I; "I christened him."
"What a queer name!" said Jimmy; "let's take him into our house and see what Gipsey and he will do!"
"Good!" said I. So, without remembering that plaguey white spread, I cut over the piazza railings with Poddles under one arm, and we all three rushed up stairs together.
They had such a famous play room, with a splendid swing, and a teetertorter, and ten-pins, and I don't know what beside; and there was the nattiest little dog! but you know him, that "toy-terrier" of theirs. Poddles looked a greater fright than ever beside him; so, to pay him off, we put that wretched Pod into a basket, tied it fast to the swing, and swung him up to the ceiling. It frightened him half to death, and serve him right, for being so ugly! after which he and Gipsey went to sleep in a big rocking chair, as friendly as possible. Then I gave Nelly a splendid swing, "ran under," and cracked my cocoanut three times, beside making my arms ache like everything; but I didn't care, she was such a dear little thing.
Afterward Jimmy went and got a great plateful of rosy apples; and just as we were eating them, and having such fun, up came one of our girls, and said that "Miss Brandlaw wanted Master Tom right home!" Wasn't it hateful? But, of course, I had to go; so I bundled Poddles under my arm again, bid them good-by, and walked off with Mary; but I poked her ribs and set Poddles at her all the way, which was some comfort.
I expected a scolding when I came home, and I didn't have one—oh no! Aunt Elsie wanted to know where I thought I should die when I went to—(no,
I believe it was the other way,
but never mind)—if I hung best bed spreads out of the window, and left my room without permission? besides informing me that she should write to ma', and have me sent for. Finally, she marched me up stairs again; and when I said I must have something to do to keep me out of mischief, she gave me a Sunday school book to read, and took herself off.
Of course you will say I was dreadfully wicked not to like the Sunday school book, but I couldn't. It was so full of hard names and long words, and was all about sanctification and justification and regeneration, and how was I to understand a word of it? I love Bible stories, but I don't think there is a boy or girl who understands hard doctrines. Do you, Neighbor Oldbird?