Anon, they were landing there, and Miss Drury was in raptures with that little Fairyland. On one side, the woods of Rockville hung darkly down the steep slope, on the other ran the crystalline river, and the wide meadows showed greenly beyond. Abundant willows, mixed with midsummer flowers, made a soft, verdurous fence round the island. Its mown surface was like a garden, or park lawn. Already Betty Trapps was busy there. She had kindled a fire near the upper end, where a burnt spot evidenced the fact of former fires on similar occasions. The tea kettle was briskly boiling. Under a large oak, a snow-white cloth was spread, and upon it showed all apparatus for tea and coffee, with abundance of bread and butter, plum cake, spiced cakes, custards, cream, and grapes and peaches.
Betty and Tom Boddily officiated, and Sylvanus, as of a soberer age, and a little tired with his rowing, was invited to join the merry circle which surrounded the rural feast Lively talk and flights of humour alternated with the emptying and filling of cups. Thorsby proposed a song, and sung Dibdin’s “Black-eyed Susan,” Miss Drury delighted them with the False Knight, “I love and I ride away.” When some other songs had followed, and Tom Boddily had given them a further bird performance on his magic pipes, “Now,” said Thorsby, “for a riddle. You don’t know it; for I have just made it.”
“Splendid!” said they all; “now for it.”
“What is that which lies down, and stands up, and sails, and flies, at the same time?”
“It is a genuine, bonâ-fide riddle, is it,” asked George Woodburn, “and no hoax, Thorsby?”
“Oh! out and out genuine,” said Thorsby.
Nobody could guess it. Thorsby was delighted, and would not tell it. “No, as it was bran new, it must not be let out all at once.” Suddenly he said. “Ah! I’ll ask Tom Boddily, he is as sharp as a needle with two points.” Tom was at the fire, at some distance, laying on more sticks. Up jumped Thorsby. There was a general titter, and hands held up in merry amazement—he did not hear or see them. The next moment Thorsby was at Tom’s side, and propounded the riddle.
“Did you see that heron?” Tom said, pointing down the river.
“No, Tom,” said Thorsby. He turned, gazing in vain down the river.
“But never mind the heron,” said Thorsby; “the riddle! the riddle!”