[
]HOLIDAY HOUSE:

A
SERIES OF TALES.
Dedicated to Lady Diana Boyle.

BY
CATHERINE SINCLAIR,
AUTHORESS OF “MODERN ACCOMPLISHMENTS,” “MODERN SOCIETY,”
“HILL AND VALLEY,” “CHARLIE SEYMOUR,” &c. &c.

“Young heads are giddy, and young hearts are warm,

And make mistakes for manhood to reform.”

Cowper.

NEW-YORK:
PUBLISHED BY ROBERT CARTER,
NO. 58 CANAL STREET.
1839.

[ii]
]New-York:
Printed by Scatcherd and Adams,
No. 38 Gold Street.

[iii]
]PREFACE

“Of all the paper I have blotted, I have written nothing without the intention of some good. Whether I have succeeded or not, is for others to judge.”

Sir William Temple.

The minds of young people are now manufactured like webs of linen, all alike, and nothing left to nature. From the hour when children can speak, till they come to years of discretion or of indiscretion, they are carefully prompted what to say, and what to think, and what to look, and how to feel; while in most school-rooms nature has been turned out of doors with obloquy, and art has entirely supplanted her.

When a quarrel takes place, both parties are generally in some degree to blame; therefore if Art and Nature could yet be made to go hand in hand towards the formation of character and principles, a graceful and beautiful superstructure might be reared, on the solid foundation of Christian faith and sound morality; so that while many natural weeds and wild flowers would be pruned and carefully trained, some lovely blossoms that spring spontaneously in the uncultivated soil, might still be cherished into strength and beauty, far excelling what can be planted or reared by art.

[iv]
]Every infant is probably born with a character as peculiar to himself as the features in his countenance, if his faults and good qualities were permitted to expand according to their original tendency; but education, which formerly did too little in teaching “the young idea how to shoot,” seems now in danger of over-shooting the mark altogether, by not allowing the young ideas to exist at all. In this age of wonderful mechanical inventions, the very mind of youth seems in danger of becoming a machine; and while every effort is used to stuff the memory, like a cricket-ball, with well-known facts and ready-made opinions, no room is left for the vigour of natural feeling, the glow of natural genius, and the ardour of natural enthusiasm. It was a remark of Sir Walter Scott’s many years ago, to the author herself, that in the rising generation there would be no poets, wits, or orators, because all play of imagination is now carefully discouraged, and books written for young persons are generally a mere dry record of facts, unenlivened by any appeal to the heart, or any excitement to the fancy. The catalogue of a child’s library would contain Conversations on Natural Philosophy,—on Chemistry,—on Botany,—on Arts and Sciences,—Chronological Records of History,—and travels as dry as a road-book; but nothing on the habits or ways of thinking, natural and suitable to the taste of children; therefore, while such works are delightful to the parents and teachers who select them, the younger community are fed with strong meat instead of milk, and the reading which might be a relaxation from study, becomes a study in itself.

In these pages the author has endeavoured to paint that species of noisy, frolicsome, mischievous children [v] ]which is now almost extinct, wishing to preserve a sort of fabulous remembrance of days long past, when young people were like wild horses on the prairies, rather than like well-broken hacks on the road; and when, amidst many faults and many eccentricities, there was still some individuality of character and feeling allowed to remain. In short, as Lord Byron described “the last man,” the object of this volume is, to describe “the last boy.” It may be useful, she thinks, to show, that amidst much requiring to be judiciously curbed and corrected, there may be the germs of high and generous feeling, and of steady, right principle, which should be the chief objects of culture and encouragement. Plodding industry is in the present day at a very high premium in education; but it requires the leaven of mental energy and genius to make it work well, while it has been remarked by one whose experience in education is deep and practical, that “those boys whose names appear most frequently in the black book of transgression, would sometimes deserve to be also most commonly recorded, if a book were kept for warm affections and generous actions.”

The most formidable person to meet in society at present, is the mother of a promising boy, about nine or ten years old; because there is no possible escape from a volume of anecdotes, and a complete system of education on the newest principles. The young gentleman has probably asked leave to bring his books to the breakfast-room,—can scarcely be torn away from his studies at the dinner-hour,—discards all toys,—abhors a holiday,—propounds questions of marvellous depth in politics or mineralogy,—and seems, in short, more fitted to enjoy the learned meeting at Newcastle, than the [vi] ]exhilarating exercises of the cricket-ground; but, if the axiom be true, that “a little learning is a dangerous thing,” it has also been proved by frequent, and sometimes by very melancholy experience, that, for minds not yet expanded to maturity, a great deal of learning is more dangerous still, and that in those school-rooms where there has been a society for the suppression of amusement, the mental energies have suffered, as well as the health.

A prejudice has naturally arisen against giving works of fiction to children, because their chief interest too often rests on the detection and punishment of such mean vices as lying and stealing, which are so frequently and elaborately described, that the way to commit those crimes is made obvious, while a clever boy thinks he could easily avoid the oversights by which another has been discovered, and that if he does not yield to similar temptations, he is a model of virtue and good-conduct.

In writing for any class of readers, and especially in occupying the leisure moments of such peculiarly fortunate young persons as have leisure moments at all, the author feels conscious of a deep responsibility, for it is at their early age that the seed can best be sown which shall bear fruit unto eternal life, therefore it is hoped this volume may be found to inculcate a pleasing and permanent consciousness, that religion is the best resource in happier hours, and the only refuge in hours of affliction.

Those who wish to be remembered for ever in the world,—and it is a very common object of ambition,—will find no monument more permanent, than the affectionate remembrance of any children they have [vii] ]treated with kindness; for we may often observe, in the reminiscences of old age, a tender recollection surviving all others, of friends in early days who enlivened the hours of childhood by presents of playthings and comfits. But above all, we never forget those who good-humouredly complied with the constantly recurring petition of all young people in every generation, and in every house—“Will you tell me a story?”

In answer to such a request, often and importunately repeated, the author has from year to year delighted in seeing herself surrounded by a circle of joyous, eager faces, listening with awe to the terrors of Mrs. Crabtree, or smiling at the frolics of Harry and Laura. The stories, originally, were so short, that some friends, aware of their popularity, and conscious of their harmless tendency, took the trouble of copying them in manuscript for their own young friends; but the tales have since grown and expanded during frequent verbal repetitions, till, with various fanciful additions and new characters, they have enlarged into their present form, or rather so far beyond it, that several chapters are omitted, to keep the volume within moderate compass.

Paley remarks, that “any amusement which is innocent, is better than none; as the writing of a book, the building of a house, the laying out of a garden, the digging of a fish-pond, even the raising of a cucumber;” and it is hoped that, while the author herself has found much interesting occupation in recording these often repeated stories, the time of herself and her young readers may be employed with some degree of profit, or she will certainly regret that it was not better occupied in the rearing of cucumbers.

[9]
]HOLIDAY HOUSE.

CHAPTER I.
CHIT CHAT.

A school-boy, a dog, and a walnut tree,

The more you strike ’em, the better they be.

Laura and Harry Graham could scarcely feel sure that they ever had a mama, because she died while they were yet very young indeed; but Frank, who was some years older, recollected perfectly well what pretty playthings she used to give him, and missed his kind, good mama so extremely, that he one day asked if he might “go to a shop and buy a new mama?” Frank often afterwards thought of the time also, when he kneeled beside her bed to say his prayers, or when he sat upon her knee to hear funny stories about good boys and bad boys—all very interesting, and all told on purpose to show how much happier obedient children are, than those who waste their time in idleness and folly. Boys and girls all think they know the road to happiness without any mistake, and choose that which looks gayest and pleasantest at first, though older people, who have travelled that road already, can tell them that a very difficult path is the only one which [10] ]ends agreeably; and those who begin to walk in it when they are young, will really find that “wisdom’s ways are ways of pleasantness, and all her paths are peace.” It was truly remarked by Solomon, that “even a child is known by his doings, whether his work be pure, and whether it be right.” Therefore, though Frank was yet but a little boy, his friends, who observed how carefully he attended to his mama’s instructions, how frequently he studied his Bible, and how diligently he learned his lessons, all prophesied that this merry, lively child, with laughing eyes, and dimpled cheeks, would yet grow up to be a good and useful man; especially when it became evident that, by the blessing of God, he had been early turned away from the broad road that leadeth to destruction, in which every living person would naturally walk, and led into the narrow path that leadeth to eternal life.

When his mama, Lady Graham, after a long and painful illness, was at last taken away to the better world, for which she had been many years preparing, her only sorrow and anxiety seemed to be that she left behind her three such very dear children, who were now to be entirely under the care of their papa, Sir Edward Graham; and it was with many prayers and tears that she tried to make her mind more easy about their future education, and future happiness.

Sir Edward felt such extreme grief on the death of Lady Graham, that instead of being able to remain at home with his young family, and to interest his mind as he would wish to have done, by attending to them, he was ordered by Dr. Bell, to set off immediately for Paris, Rome, and Naples, where it was hoped he might leave his distresses behind him while he travelled, or at all events, forget them.

Luckily the children had a very good, kind uncle, Major David Graham, and their grandmama, Lady Harriet Graham, who were both exceedingly happy to take charge of them, observing that no house could be cheerful without a few little [11] ]people being there, and that now they would have constant amusement in trying to make Frank, Harry, and Laura, as happy as possible, and even still happier.

“That is the thing I am almost afraid of!” said Sir Edward, smiling. “Uncles and grandmamas are only too kind, and my small family will be quite spoiled by indulgence.”

“Not if you leave that old vixen, Mrs. Crabtree, as governor of the nursery,” answered Major Graham, laughing. “She ought to have been the drummer of a regiment, she is so fond of the rod! I believe there never was such a tyrant since the time when nursery-maids were invented. Poor Harry would pass his life in a dark closet, like Baron Trenck, if Mrs. Crabtree had her own way!”

“She means it all well. I am certain that Mrs. Crabtree is devotedly fond of my children, and would go through fire and water to serve them; but she is a little severe perhaps. Her idea is, that if you never forgive a first fault, you will never hear of a second, which is probably true enough. At all events, her harshness will be the best remedy for your extreme indulgence; therefore let me beg that you and my mother will seldom interfere with her ‘method,’ especially in respect to Harry and Laura. As for Frank, if all boys were like him, we might make a bonfire of birch rods and canes. He is too old for nursery discipline now, and must be flogged at school, if deserving of it at all, till he goes to sea next year with my friend Gordon, who has promised to rate him as a volunteer of the first class, on board the Thunderbolt.”

In spite of Mrs. Crabtree’s admirable “system” with children, Harry and Laura became, from this time, two of the most heedless, frolicsome beings in the world, and had to be whipped almost every morning; for in those days it had not been discovered that whipping is all a mistake, and that children can be made good without it; though some [12] ]old-fashioned people still say—and such, too, who take the God of truth for their guide—the old plan succeeded best, and those who “spare the rod will spoil the child.” When Lady Harriet and Major Graham spoke kindly to Harry and Laura, about anything wrong that had been done, they both felt more sad and sorry, than after the severest punishments of Mrs. Crabtree, who frequently observed, that “if those children were shut up in a dark room alone, with nothing to do, they would still find some way of being mischievous, and of deserving to be punished.”

“Harry!” said Major Graham one day, “you remind me of a monkey which belonged to the colonel of our regiment formerly. He was famous for contriving to play all sorts of pranks when no one supposed them to be possible, and I recollect once having a valuable French clock, which the malicious creature seemed particularly determined to break. Many a time I caught him in the fact, and saved my beautiful clock; but one day, being suddenly summoned out of the room, I hastily fastened his chain to a table, so that he could not possibly, even at the full extent of his paw, so much as touch the glass case. I observed him impatiently watching my departure, and felt a misgiving that he expected to get the better of me; so after shutting the door, I took a peep through the key-hole, and what do you think Jack had done, Harry? for, next to Mr. Monkey himself, you are certainly the cleverest contriver of mischief I know.”

“What did he do?” asked Harry eagerly; “did he throw a stone at the clock?”

“No! but his leg was several inches longer than his arm, so having turned his tail towards his object, he stretched out his hind-paw, and before I could rush back, my splendid alabaster clock had been upset and broken to shivers.”

Laura soon became quite as mischievous as Harry, which [13] ]is very surprising, as she was a whole year older, and had been twice as often scolded by Mrs. Crabtree. Neither of these children intended any harm, for they were only heedless lively romps, who would not for twenty worlds have told a lie, or done a shabby thing, or taken what did not belong to them. They were not greedy either, and would not on any account have resembled Peter Grey, who was at the same school with Frank, and who spent all his own pocket-money, and borrowed a great deal of other people’s, to squander at the pastry-cook’s, saying, he wished it were possible to eat three dinners, and two breakfasts, and five suppers every day.

Harry was not a cruel boy either; he never lashed his pony, beat his dog, pinched his sister, or killed any butterflies, though he often chased them for fun, and one day he even defended a wasp, at the risk of being stung, when Mrs. Crabtree intended to kill it.

“Nasty, useless vermin!” said she angrily, “What business have they in the world! coming into other people’s houses, with nothing to do! They sting and torment every body! Bees are very different, for they make honey.”

“And wasps make jelly!” said Harry resolutely, while he opened the window, and shook the happy wasp out of his pocket handkerchief.

Mrs. Crabtree allowed no pets of any description in her territories, and ordered the children to be happy without any such nonsense. When Laura’s canary-bird escaped one unlucky day out of its cage, Mrs. Crabtree was strongly suspected by Major Graham, of having secretly opened the door, as she had long declared war upon bulfinches, white mice, parrots, kittens, dogs, bantams, and gold fish, observing that animals only made a noise and soiled the house, therefore every creature should remain in its own home, “birds in the air, fish in the sea, and beasts in the desert.” She seemed always watching in hopes Harry and [14] ]Laura might do something that they ought to be punished for; and Mrs. Crabtree certainly had more ears than other people, or slept with one eye open, as, whatever might be done, night or day, she overheard the lowest whisper of mischief, and appeared able to see what was going on in the dark.

When Harry was a very little boy, he sometimes put himself in the corner, after doing wrong, apparently quite sensible that he deserved to be punished, and once, after being terribly scolded by Mrs. Crabtree, he drew in his stool beside her chair, with a funny penitent face, twirling his thumbs over and over each other, and saying, “Now, Mrs. Crabtree! look what a good boy I am going to be!”

“You a good boy!” replied she contemptuously: “No! no! the world will be turned into a cream-cheese first!”

Lady Harriet gave Harry and Laura a closet of their own, in which she allowed them to keep their toys, and nobody could help laughing to see that, amidst the whole collection, there was seldom one unbroken. Frank wrote out a list once of what he found in this crowded little store-room, and amused himself often with reading it over afterwards. There were three dolls without faces, a horse with no legs, a drum with a hole in the top, a cart without wheels, a churn with no bottom, a kite without a tale, a skipping-rope with no handles, and a cup and ball that had lost the string. Lady Harriet called this closet the hospital for decayed toys, and she often employed herself as their doctor, mending legs and arms for soldiers, horses, and dolls, though her skill seldom succeeded long, because play-things must have been made of cast-iron to last a week with Harry. One cold winter morning when Laura entered the nursery, she found a large fire blazing, and all her wax dolls sitting in a row within the fender staring at the flames. Harry intended no mischief on this occasion, but great was his vexation when [15] ]Laura burst into tears, and showed him that their faces were running in a hot stream down upon their beautiful silk frocks, which were completely ruined, and not a doll had its nose remaining. Another time, Harry pricked a hole in his own beautiful large gas ball, wishing to see how the gas could possibly escape, after which, in a moment, it shrivelled up into a useless empty bladder,—and when his kite was flying up to the clouds, Harry often wished that he could be tied to the tail himself, so as to fly also through the air like a bird, and see every thing.

Mrs. Crabtree always wore a prodigious bunch of jingling keys in her pocket, that rung whenever she moved, as if she carried a dinner bell in her pocket, and Frank said it was like a rattlesnake giving warning of her approach, which was of great use, as everybody had time to put on a look of good behaviour before she arrived. Even Betty, the under nursery-maid, felt in terror of Mrs. Crabtree’s entrance, and was obliged to work harder than any six house-maids united. Frank told her one day that he thought brooms might soon be invented, which would go by steam and brush carpets of themselves, but, in the meantime, not a grain of dust could lurk in any corner of the nursery without being dislodged. Betty would have required ten hands, and twenty pair of feet, to do all the work that was expected; but the grate looked like jet, the windows would not have soiled a cambric handkerchief, and the carpet was switched with so many tea-leaves, that Frank thought Mrs. Crabtree often took several additional cups of tea in order to leave a plentiful supply of leaves for sweeping the floor next morning.

If Laura and Harry left any breakfast, Mrs. Crabtree kept it carefully till dinner time, when they were obliged to finish the whole before tasting meat; and if they refused it at dinner, the remains were kept for supper. Mrs. Crabtree always informed them that she did it “for their good,” [16] ]though Harry never could see any good that it did to either of them; and when she mentioned how many poor children would be glad to eat what they despised, he often wished the hungry beggars had some of his own hot dinner, which he would gladly have spared to them; for Harry was really so generous, that he would have lived upon air, if he might be of use to anybody. Time passed on, and Lady Harriet engaged a master for some hours a-day to teach the children lessons, while even Mrs. Crabtree found no other fault to Harry and Laura, except that in respect to good behaviour their memories were like a sieve, which let out every thing they were desired to keep in mind. They seemed always to hope, somehow or other, when Mrs. Crabtree once turned her back, she would never shew her face again; so their promises of better conduct were all “wind without rain,”—very loud and plenty of them, but no good effect to be seen afterwards.

Among her many other torments, Mrs. Crabtree rolled up Laura’s hair every night on all sides of her head, in large stiff curl-papers, till they were as round and hard as walnuts, after which, she tied on a night-cap, as tightly as possible above all, saying this would curl the hair still better. Laura could not lay any part of her head on the pillow, without suffering so much pain that, night after night, she sat up in bed, after Mrs. Crabtree had bustled out of the room, and quietly took the cruel papers out, though she was punished so severely for doing so, that she obeyed orders at last and lay wide awake half the night with torture; and it was but small comfort to Laura afterwards, that Lady Harriet’s visitors frequently admired the forest of long glossy ringlets that adorned her head, and complimented Mrs. Crabtree on the trouble it must cost her to keep that charming hair in order. Often did Laura wish that it were ornamenting any wig-block, rather than her own head; and one day Lady Harriet laughed heartily, when some strangers [17] ]admired her little grand-daughter’s ringlets, and Laura asked, very anxiously, if they would like to cut off a few of the longest, and keep them for her sake.

“Your hair does curl like a cork-screw,” said Frank, laughing. “If I want to draw a cork out of a beer bottle any day, I shall borrow one of those ringlets, Laura!”

“You may laugh, Frank, for it is fun to you and death to me,” answered poor Laura, gravely shaking her curls at him. “I wish we were all bald, like uncle David! During the night, I cannot lie still on account of those tiresome curls, and all day I dare not stir for fear of spoiling them, so they are never out of my head.”

“Nor off your head! How pleasant it must be to have Mrs. Crabtree combing and scolding, and scolding and combing, for hours every day! Poor Laura! we must get Dr. Bell to say that they shall be taken off on pain of death, and then, perhaps, grandmama would order some Irish reapers to cut them down with a sickle.”

“Frank! what a lucky boy you are to be at school, and not in the nursery! I wish next year would come immediately, for then I shall have a governess, after which good-bye to Mrs. Crabtree, and the wearisome curl-papers.”

“I don’t like school!” said Harry. “It is perfect nonsense to plague me with lessons now. All big people can read and write, so, of course, I shall be able to do like others. There is no hurry about it!”

Never was there a more amiable, pious, excellent boy than Frank, who read his Bible so attentively, and said his prayers so regularly every morning and evening, that he soon learned both to know his duty and to do it. Though he laughed heartily at the scrapes which Harry and Laura so constantly fell into, he often also helped them out of their difficulties; being very different from most elderly boys, who find an odd kind of pleasure in teazing younger children—pulling their hair—pinching their arms—twitching [18] ]away their dinners—and twenty more plans for tormenting, which Frank never attempted to enjoy, but he often gave Harry and Laura a great deal of kind, sober, good advice, which they listened to very attentively while they were in any new distress, but generally forgot again as soon as their spirits rose. Frank came home only upon Saturdays and Sundays, because he attended during most of the week at Mr. Lexicon’s academy, where he gradually became so clever, that the masters all praised his extraordinary attention, and covered him with medals, while Major Graham often filled his pockets with a reward of money, after which he ran towards the nearest shop to spend his little fortune in buying a present for somebody. Frank scarcely ever wanted anything for himself, but he always wished to contrive some kind generous plan for other people; and Major Graham used to say, “if that boy had only sixpence in the world, he would lay it all out on penny tarts to distribute among half-a-dozen of his friends.” He even saved his pocket-money once, during three whole months, to purchase a gown for Mrs. Crabtree, who looked almost good-humoured during the space of five minutes, when Frank presented it to her, saying, in his joyous merry voice, “Mrs. Crabtree! I wish you health to wear it, strength to tear it, and money to buy another!”

Certainly there never was such a gown before! It had been chosen by Frank and Harry together, who thought nothing could be more perfect. The colour was so bright an apple-green, that it would have put any body’s teeth on edge to look at it, and the whole was dotted over with large round spots of every colour, as if a box of wafers had been showered upon the surface. Laura wished Mrs. Crabtree might receive a present every day, as it put her in such good-humour, and nearly three weeks after passed this, without a single scold being heard in the nursery; so [19] ]Frank observed that he thought Mrs. Crabtree would soon be quite out of practice.

“Laura!” said Major Graham, looking very sly one morning, “have you heard all the new rules that Mrs. Crabtree has made?”

“No!” replied she in great alarm; “what are they?”

“In the first place, you are positively not to tear and destroy above three frocks a-day; secondly, you and Harry must never get into a passion, unless you are angry; thirdly, when either of you take medicine, you are not to make wry faces, except when the taste is bad; fourthly, you must never speak ill of Mrs. Crabtree herself, until she is out of the room; fifthly, you are not to jump out of the windows, as long as you can get out at the door”——

“Yes!” interrupted Laura, laughing, “and sixthly, when uncle David is joking, we are not to be frightened by anything he says!”

“Seventhly, when next you spill grandmama’s bottle of ink, Harry must drink up every drop.”

“Very well! he may swallow a sheet of blotting paper afterwards, to put away the taste.”

“I wish every body who writes a book, was obliged to swallow it,” said Harry. “It is such a waste of time reading, when we might be amusing ourselves. Frank sat mooning over a book for two hours yesterday when we wanted him to play. I am sure, some day his head will burst with knowledge.”

“That can never happen to you, Master Harry,” answered Major Graham; “you have a head, and so has a pin, but there is not much furniture in either of them.”

[20]
]CHAPTER II.
THE GRAND FEAST.

She gave them some tea without any bread,

She whipp’d them all soundly, and sent them to bed.

Nursery Rhymes.

Lady Harriet Graham was an extremely thin, delicate, old lady, with a very pale face, and a sweet gentle voice, which the children delighted to hear, for it always spoke kindly to them, and sounded like music, after the loud, rough tones of Mrs. Crabtree. She wore her own grey hair, which had become almost as white as the widow’s cap which covered her head. The rest of her dress was generally black velvet, and she usually sat in a comfortable arm-chair by the fire-side, watching her grandchildren at play, with a large work-bag by her side, and a prodigious Bible open on the table before her. Lady Harriet often said that it made her young again to see the joyous gambols of Harry and Laura; and when unable any longer to bear their noise, she sometimes kept them quiet, by telling the most delightful stories about what had happened to herself when she was young.

Once upon a time, however, Lady Harriet suddenly became so very ill, that Dr. Bell said she must spend a few days in the country, for change of air, and accordingly she determined on passing a quiet week at Holiday [21] ]House with her relations, Lord and Lady Rockville. Meanwhile, Harry and Laura were to be left under the sole care of Mrs. Crabtree, so it might have been expected that they would both feel more frightened for her, now that she was reigning monarch of the house, than ever. Harry would obey those he loved, if they only held up a little finger; but all the terrors of Mrs. Crabtree, and her cat-o’-nine-tails, were generally forgotten soon after she left the room; therefore he thought little at first about the many threats she held out, if he behaved ill, but he listened most seriously when his dear sick grandmama told him, in a faint weak voice, on the day of her departure from home, how very well he ought to behave in her absence, as no one remained but the maids to keep him in order, and that she hoped Mrs. Crabtree would write her a letter full of good news about his excellent conduct.

Harry felt as if he would gladly sit still without stirring, till his grandmama came back, if that could only please her; and there never was any one more determined to be a good boy than he, at the moment when Lady Harriet’s carriage came round to the door. Laura, Frank, and Harry helped to carry all the pillows, boxes, books, and baskets which were necessary for the journey, of which there seemed to be about fifty; then they arranged the cushions as comfortably as possible, and watched very sorrowfully when their grandmama, after kindly embracing them both, was carefully supported by Major Graham and her maid Harrison, into the chariot. Uncle David gave each of the children a pretty picture-book before taking leave, and said, as he was stepping into the carriage, “Now, children! I have only one piece of serious, important advice to give you all, so attend to me!—never crack nuts with your teeth!”

When the carriage had driven off, Mrs. Crabtree became so busy scolding Betty, and storming at Jack the foot-boy, for not cleaning her shoes well enough, that she left Harry [22] ]and Laura standing in the passage, not knowing exactly what they ought to do first, and Frank, seeing them looking rather melancholy and bewildered at the loss of their grandmama, stopped a moment as he passed on the way to school, and said in a very kind, affectionate voice,

“Now, Harry and Laura, listen both of you!—here is a grand opportunity to show everybody, that we can be trusted to ourselves, without getting into any scrapes, so that if grandmama is ever ill again, and obliged to go away, she need not feel so sad and anxious as she did to-day. I mean to become nine times more attentive to my lessons than usual this morning, to show how trust-worthy we are, and if you are wise, pray march straight up to the nursery yourselves. I have arranged a gown and cap of Mrs. Crabtree’s on the large arm-chair, to look as like herself as possible, that you may be reminded how soon she will come back, and you must not behave like the mice when the cat is out. Good bye! Say the alphabet backward, and count your fingers for half-an-hour, but when Mrs. Crabtree appears again, pray do not jump out of the window for joy.”

Harry and Laura were proceeding directly towards the nursery, as Frank had recommended, when unluckily they observed in passing the drawing-room door, that it was wide open; so Harry peeped in, and they began idly wandering round the tables and cabinets. Not ten minutes elapsed before they both commenced racing about as if they were mad, perfectly screaming with joy, and laughing so loudly at their own funny tricks, that an old gentleman who lived next door, very nearly sent in a message to ask what the joke was.

Presently Harry and Laura ran up and down stairs till the housemaid was quite fatigued with running after them. They jumped upon the fine damask sofas in the drawing-room, stirred the fire till it was in a blaze, and rushed out on the balcony, upsetting one or two geraniums and a myrtle. [23] ]They spilt Lady Harriet’s perfumes over their handkerchiefs,—they looked into all the beautiful books of pictures,—they tumbled many of the pretty Dresden china figures on the floor,—they wound up the little French clock till it was broken,—they made the musical work-box play its tunes, and set the Chinese mandarins nodding, till they very nearly nodded their heads off. In short, so much mischief has seldom been done in so short a time, till at last Harry, perfectly worn out with laughing and running, threw himself into a large arm-chair, and Laura, with her ringlets tumbling in frightful confusion over her face, and the beads of her coral necklace rolling on the floor, tossed herself into a sofa beside him.

“Oh! what fun!” cried Harry, in an ecstacy of delight; “I wish Frank had been here, and crowds of little boys and girls, to play with us all day! It would be a good joke, Laura, to write and ask all our little cousins and companions to drink tea here to-morrow evening! Their mamas could never guess we had not leave from grandmama to invite everybody, so I dare say we might gather quite a large party! oh! how enchanting!”

Laura laughed heartily when she heard this proposal of Harry’s, and without hesitating a moment about it, she joyously placed herself before Lady Harriet’s writing-table, and scribbled a multitude of little notes, in large text, to more than twenty young friends, all of whom had at other times been asked by Lady Harriet to spend the evening with her.

Laura felt very much puzzled to know what was usually said in a card of invitation, but after many consultations, she and Harry thought at last, that it was very nicely expressed, for they wrote these words upon a large sheet of paper to each of their friends:—

Master Harry Graham and Miss Laura wish you to have the honour of drinking tea with us to-morrow, at six o’clock.

(Signed) Harry and Laura.

[24]
]Laura afterwards singed a hole in her muslin frock, while lighting one of the Vesta matches to seal these numerous notes; and Harry dropped some burning sealing-wax on his hand, in the hurry of assisting her; but he thought that little accident no matter, and ran away to see if the cards could be sent off immediately.

Now, there lived in the house a very old footman, called Andrew, who remembered Harry and Laura since they were quite little babies; and he often looked exceedingly sad and sorry when they suffered punishment from Mrs. Crabtree. He was ready to do anything in the world when it pleased the children, and would have carried a message to the moon, if they had only shown him the way. Many odd jobs and private messages he had already been employed in by Harry, who now called Andrew up stairs, entreating him to carry out all those absurd notes as fast as possible, and to deliver them immediately, as they were of the greatest consequence. Upon hearing this, old Andrew lost not a moment, but threw on his hat, and instantly started off, looking like the twopenny postman, he carried such a prodigious parcel of invitations, while Harry and Laura stood at the drawing-room window, almost screaming with joy when they saw him set out, and when they observed that, to oblige them, he actually ran along the street at a sort of trot, which was as fast as he could possibly go. Presently, however, he certainly did stop for a single minute, and Laura saw that it was in order to take a peep into one of the notes, that he might ascertain what they were all about; but as he never carried any letters without doing so, she thought that quite natural, and was only very glad when he had finished, and rapidly pursued his way again.

Next morning, Mrs. Crabtree and Betty became very much surprised to observe what a number of smart livery servants knocked at the street door, and gave in cards, but their astonishment became still greater, when old Andrew [25] ]brought up a whole parcel of them to Harry and Laura, who immediately broke the seals, and read the contents in a corner together.

“What are you about there, Master Graham?” cried Mrs. Crabtree, angrily, “how dare any body venture to touch your grandmama’s letters?”

“They are not for grandmama!—they are all for us!—every one of them!” answered Harry, dancing about the room with joy, and waving the notes over his head. “Look at this direction! For Master and Miss Graham! put on your spectacles, and read it yourself, Mrs. Crabtree! What delightful fun! the house will be as full as an egg!”

Mrs. Crabtree seemed completely puzzled what to think of all this, and looked so much as if she did not know exactly what to be angry at, and so ready to be in a passion if possible, that Harry burst out a laughing, while he said, “Only think Mrs. Crabtree! here is every body coming to tea with us!—all my cousins, besides Peter Grey, Robert Stewart, Charles Forrester, Adelaide Cunninghame, Diana Wentworth, John Fordyce, Edmund Ashford, Frank Abercromby, Ned Russel, and Tom ——”

“The boy is distracted!” exclaimed Betty, staring with astonishment. “What does all this mean, Master Harry?”

“And who gave you leave to invite company into your grandmama’s house?” cried Mrs. Crabtree, snatching up all the notes, and angrily thrusting them into the fire. “I never heard of such things in all my life before, Master Harry! but as sure as eggs is eggs, you shall repent of this, for not one morsel of cake, or anything else shall you have to give any of the party; no! not so much as a crust of bread, or a thimbleful of tea!”

Harry and Laura had never thought of such a catastrophe as this before; they always saw a great table covered with every thing that could be named for tea, whenever their little friends came to visit them, and whether it rose [26] ]out of the floor, or was brought by Aladdin’s lamp, they never considered it possible that the table would not be provided as usual on such occasions, so this terrible speech of Mrs. Crabtree’s frightened them out of their wits. What was to be done! They both knew by experience that she always did whatever she threatened, or something a great deal worse, so they began by bursting into tears, and begging Mrs. Crabtree for this once to excuse them, and to give some cakes and tea to their little visitors, but they might as well have spoken to one of the Chinese mandarins, for she only shook her head, with a positive look, declaring over and over again that nothing should appear upon the table except what was always brought up for their own supper—two biscuits and two cups of milk.

“Therefore say no more about it!” added she, sternly. “I am your best friend, Master Harry, trying to teach you and Miss Laura your duty, so save your breath to cool your porridge.”

Poor Harry and Laura looked perfectly ill with fright and vexation when they thought of what was to happen next, while Mrs. Crabtree sat down to her knitting, grumbling to herself, and dropping her stitches every minute with rage and irritation. Old Andrew felt exceedingly sorry after he heard what distress and difficulty Harry was in, and when the hour for the party approached, he very good-naturedly spread out a large table in the dining-room, where he put down as many cups, saucers, plates, and spoons as Laura chose to direct; but in spite of all his trouble, though it looked very grand, there was nothing whatever to eat or drink, except the two dry biscuits, and the two miserable cups of milk, which seemed to become smaller every time that Harry looked at them.

Presently the clock struck six, and Harry listened to the hour very much as a prisoner would do in the condemned cell in Newgate, feeling that the dreaded time was at last [27] ]arrived. Soon afterwards, several handsome carriages drove up to the door filled with little Masters and Misses, who hurried joyfully into the house, talking and laughing all the way up stairs, being evidently quite happy at coming out to tea, while poor Harry and Laura almost wished the floor would open and swallow them up, so they shrunk into a distant corner of the room, quite ashamed to show their faces.

The young ladies were all dressed in their best frocks, with pink sashes, and pink shoes; while the little boys appeared in their holiday clothes, with their hair newly brushed, and their faces washed. The whole party had dined at two o’clock, so they were as hungry as hawks, looking eagerly round, whenever they entered, to see what was on the tea-table, and evidently surprised that nothing had yet been put down. Laura and Harry soon afterwards heard their visitors whispering to each other about Norwich buns, rice cakes, spunge biscuits, and maccaroons; while Peter Grey was loud in praise of a party at George Lorraine’s the night before, where an immense plum-cake had been sugared over like a snow storm, and covered with crowds of beautiful amusing mottoes; not to mention a quantity of noisy crackers, that exploded like pistols; besides which, a glass of hot jelly had been handed to each little guest before he was sent home.

Every time the door opened, all eyes were anxiously turned round, expecting a grand feast to be brought in; but quite the contrary—it was only Andrew showing up more hungry visitors; while Harry felt so unspeakably wretched, that, if some kind fairy could only have turned him into a Norwich bun at the moment, he would gladly have consented to be cut in pieces, that his ravenous guests might be satisfied.

Charles Forrester was a particularly good-natured boy, so Harry at last took courage and beckoned him into a [28] ]remote corner of the room, where he confessed, in whispers, the real state of affairs about tea, and how sadly distressed he and Laura felt, because they had nothing whatever to give among so many visitors, seeing that Mrs. Crabtree kept her determination of affording them no provisions.

“What is to be done!” said Charles, very anxiously, as he felt extremely sorry for his little friends. “If Mama had been at home, she would gladly have sent whatever you liked for tea, but unluckily she is dining out! I saw a loaf of bread lying on a table at home this evening, which she would make you quite welcome to! Shall I run home, as fast as possible, to fetch it? That would, at any rate, be better than nothing!”

Poor Charles Forrester was very lame, therefore, while he talked of running he could hardly walk, but Lady Forrester’s house stood so near, that he soon reached home, when, snatching up the loaf, he hurried back towards the street with his prize, quite delighted to see how large and substantial it looked. Scarcely had he reached the door, however, before the housekeeper ran hastily out, saying,

“Stop, Mr. Charles! stop! sure you are not running away with the loaf for my tea, and the parrot must have her supper too. What do you want with that there bread?”

“Never mind, Mrs. Comfit!” answered Charles, hastening on faster than ever, while he grasped the precious loaf more firmly in his hand, and limped along at a prodigious rate, “Polly is getting too fat, so she will be the better of fasting for this one day.”

Mrs. Comfit, being enormously fat herself, became very angry at this remark, so she seemed quite desperate to recover the loaf, and hurried forward to overtake Charles, but the old housekeeper was so heavy and breathless, while the young gentleman was so lame, that it seemed an even chance which won the race. Harry stood at his own door, impatiently hoping to receive the prize, and eagerly stretched [29] ]out his arms to encourage his friend, while it was impossible to say which of the runners might arrive first. Harry had sometimes heard of a race between two old women tied up in sacks, and he thought they could scarcely move with more difficulty; but at the very moment when Charles had reached the door, he stumbled over a stone, and fell on the ground. Mrs. Comfit then instantly rushed up, and seizing the loaf, she carried it off in triumph, leaving the two little friends ready to cry with vexation, and quite at a loss what plan to attempt next.

Mean time, a sad riot had arisen in the dining-room, where the boys called loudly for their tea; and the young ladies drew their chairs all round the table, to wait till it was ready. Still nothing appeared; so every body wondered more and more how long they were to wait for all the nice cakes and sweetmeats which must, of course, be coming; for the longer they were delayed, the more was expected.

The last at a feast, and the first at a fray, was generally Peter Grey, who now lost patience, and seized one of the two biscuits, which he was in the middle of greedily devouring, when Laura returned with Harry to the dining-room, and observed what he had done.

“Peter Grey!” said she, holding up her head, and trying to look very dignified, “you are an exceedingly naughty boy, to help yourself! As a punishment for being so rude, you shall have nothing more to eat all this evening.”

“If I do not help myself, nobody else seems likely to give me any supper! I appear to be the only person who is to taste anything to-night,” answered Peter, laughing, while the impudent boy took a cup of milk, and drank it off, saying, “Here’s to your very good health, Miss Laura, and an excellent appetite to everybody!”

Upon hearing this absurd speech, all the other boys began laughing, and made signs, as if they were eating their fingers off with hunger. Then Peter called Lady Harriet’s [30] ]house “Famine Castle,” and pretended he would swallow the knives like an Indian juggler.

“We must learn to live upon air, and here are some spoons to eat it with,” said John Fordyce. “Harry! shall I help you to a mouthful of moonshine?”

“Peter! would you like a roasted fly?” asked Frank Abercromby, catching one on the window. “I dare say it is excellent for hungry people,—or a slice of buttered wall?”

“Or a stewed spider?” asked Peter. “Shall we all be cannibals, and eat one another?”

“What is the use of all those forks, when there is nothing to stick upon them?” asked George Maxwell, throwing them about on the floor. “No buns!—no fruit!—no cakes!—no nothing!”

“What are we to do with those tea-cups, when there is no tea?” cried Frank Abercromby, pulling the table-cloth till the whole affair fell prostrate on the floor. After this, these riotous boys tossed the plates up in the air, and caught them, becoming, at last, so outrageous, that poor old Andrew called them a “meal mob.” Never was there so much broken china seen in a dining-room before! It all lay scattered on the floor, in countless fragments, looking as if there had been a bull in a china shop, when suddenly Mrs. Crabtree herself opened the door and walked in, with an aspect of rage enough to petrify a milestone. Now old Andrew had long been trying all in his power to render the boys quiet and contented. He had made them a speech,—he had chased the ring-leaders all round the room,—and he had thrown his stick at Peter, who seemed the most riotous,—but all in vain; they became worse and worse, laughing into fits, and calling Andrew “the police-officer,” and “the bailiff.” It was a very different story, however, when Mrs. Crabtree appeared, so flaming with fury, she might have blown up a powder-mill.

Nobody could help being afraid of her. Even Peter [31] ]himself stood stock-still, and seemed withering away to nothing, when she looked at him; and when she began to scold in her most furious manner, not a boy ventured to look off the ground. A large pair of tawse then became visible in her hand, so every heart sunk with fright, and the riotous visitors began to get behind each other, and to huddle out of sight as much as possible, whispering and pushing, and fighting, in a desperate scuffle to escape.

“What is all this!” cried she, at the full pitch of her voice, “has bedlam broke loose! who smashed these cups? I’ll break his head for him, let me tell you that! Master Peter! you should be hissed out of the world for your misconduct; but I shall certainly whip you round the room like a whipping-top.”

At this moment, Peter observed that the dining-room window, which was only about six feet from the ground, had been left wide open, so instantly seizing the opportunity, he threw himself out with a single bound, and ran laughing away. All the other boys immediately followed his example, and disappeared by the same road; after which, Mrs. Crabtree leaned far out of the window, and scolded loudly, as long as they remained in sight, till her face became red, and her voice perfectly hoarse.

Meantime, the little misses sat soberly down before the empty table, and talked in whispers to each other, waiting till their maids came to take them home, after which they all hurried away as fast as possible, hardly waiting to say “good bye,” and intending to ask for some supper at home.

During that night, long after Harry and Laura had been scolded, whipped, and put to bed, they were each heard in different rooms, sobbing and crying, as if their very hearts would break, while Mrs. Crabtree grumbled and scolded to herself, saying she must do her duty, and make them good children, though she were to flay them alive first.

When Lady Harriet returned home some days afterwards, [32] ]she heard an account of Harry and Laura’s misconduct from Mrs. Crabtree, and the whole story was such a terrible case against them, that their poor grandmama became perfectly astonished and shocked, while even uncle David was preparing to be very angry; but before the culprits appeared, Frank most kindly stepped forward, and begged that they might be pardoned for this once, adding all in his power to excuse Harry and Laura, by describing how very penitent they had become, and how very severely they had already been punished.

Frank then mentioned all that Harry had told him about the starving party, which he related with so much humour and drollery, that Lady Harriet could not help laughing; so then he saw that a victory had been gained, and ran to the nursery for the two little prisoners.

Uncle David shook his walking-stick at them, and made a terrible face, when they entered; but Harry jumped upon his knee with joy at seeing him again, while Laura forgot all her distress, and rushed up to Lady Harriet, who folded her in her arms, and kissed her most affectionately.

Not a word was said that day about the tea-party, but next morning, Major Graham asked Harry, very gravely, “if he had read in the newspapers the melancholy accounts about several of his little companions, who were ill and confined to bed from having ate too much at a certain tea-party on Saturday last. Poor Peter Grey has been given over, and Charles Forrester, it is feared, may not be able to eat another loaf of bread for a fortnight!”

“Oh! uncle David! it makes me ill whenever I think of that party!” said Harry, colouring perfectly scarlet; “that was the most miserable evening of my life!”

“I must say it was not quite fair in Mrs. Crabtree to starve all the strange little boys and girls, who came as visitors to my house, without knowing who had invited them,” observed Lady Harriet. “Probably those unlucky children [33] ]will never forget, as long as they live, that scanty supper in our dining-room.”

And it turned out exactly as Lady Harriet had predicted; for though they were all asked to tea, in proper time, the very next Saturday, when Major Graham showered torrents of sugar-plums on the table, while the children scrambled to pick them up, and the side-board almost broke down afterwards under the weight of buns, cakes, cheesecakes, biscuits, fruit, and preserves, which were heaped upon each other—yet, for years afterwards, Peter Grey, whenever he ate a particularly enormous dinner, always observed, that he must make up for having once been starved at Harry Graham’s; and whenever any one of those little boys or girls again happened to meet Harry or Laura, they were sure to laugh and say, “When are you going to give us another

“GRAND FEAST?”

[34]
]CHAPTER III.
THE TERRIBLE FIRE.

Fire rages with fury wherever it comes,

If only one spark should be dropped;

Whole houses, or cities, sometimes it consumes,

Where its violence cannot be stopped.

One night, about eight o’clock, Harry and Laura were playing in the nursery, building houses with bricks, and trying who could raise the highest tower without letting it fall, when suddenly they were startled to hear every bell in the house ringing violently, while the servants seemed running up and down stairs, as if they were distracted.

“What can be the matter!” cried Laura, turning round and listening, while Harry quietly took this opportunity to shake the walls of her castle till it fell.

“The very house is coming down about your ears, Laura!” said Harry, enjoying his little bit of mischief. “I should like to be Andrew, now, for five minutes, that I might answer those fifty bells, and see what has happened. Uncle David must be wanting coals, candles, tea, toast, and soda water, all at once! What a bustle everybody is in! There! the bells are ringing again, worse than ever! Something wonderful is going on! what can it be!”

Presently Betty ran breathlessly into the room, saying that Mrs. Crabtree ought to come down stairs immediately, as Lady Harriet had been suddenly taken very ill, and, till [35] ]the Doctor arrived, nobody knew what to do, so she must give her advice and assistance.

Harry

and Laura felt excessively shocked to hear this alarming news, and listened with grave attention, while Mrs. Crabtree told them how amazingly well they ought to behave in her absence, when they were trusted alone in the nursery, with nobody to keep them in order, or to see what they were doing, especially now, as their grandmama had been taken ill, and would require to be kept quiet.

Harry sat in his chair, and might have been painted as the very picture of a good boy during nearly twenty minutes after Mrs. Crabtree departed; and Laura placed herself opposite to him, trying to follow so excellent an example, while they scarcely spoke above a whisper, wondering what could be the matter with their grandmama, and wishing for once, to see Mrs. Crabtree again, that they might hear how she was. Any one who had observed Harry and Laura at that time, would have wondered to see two such quiet, excellent, respectable children, and wished that all little boys and girls were made upon the same pattern; but presently they began to think that probably Lady Harriet was not so very ill, as no more bells had rung during several minutes, and Harry ventured to look about for some better amusement than sitting still.

At this moment Laura unluckily perceived on the table near where they sat, a pair of Mrs. Crabtree’s best scissors, which she had been positively forbid to touch. The long troublesome ringlets were as usual hanging over her eyes in a most teazing manner, so she thought what a good opportunity this might be to shorten them a very little, not above an inch or two; and without considering a moment longer, she slipped upon tiptoe, with a frightened look, round the table, and picked up the scissors in her hand, then hastening towards a looking-glass, she began snipping off the ends of her hair. Laura was much diverted to see it [36] ]showering down upon the floor, so she cut and cut on, while the curls fell thicker and faster, till at last the whole floor was covered with them, and scarcely a hair left upon her head. Harry went into fits of laughing when he perceived what a ridiculous figure Laura had made of herself, and he turned her round and round to see the havoc she had made, saying,

“You should give all this hair to Mr. Mills the upholsterer, to stuff grandmama’s arm-chair with! At any rate, Laura, if Mrs. Crabtree is ever so angry, she can hardly pull you by the hair of the head again! What a sound sleep you will have to-night, with no hard curl-papers to torment you!”

Harry had been told five hundred times, never to touch the candles, and threatened with twenty different punishments, if he ever ventured to do so; but now, he amused himself with trying to snuff one till he snuffed it out. Then he lighted it again, and tried the experiment once more, but again the teazing candle went out, as if on purpose to plague him, so he felt quite provoked. Having lighted it once more, Harry prepared to carry the candlestick with him towards the inner nursery, though afraid to make the smallest noise, in case it might be taken from him. Before he had gone five steps, down dropped the extinguisher, then followed the snuffers with a great crash, but Laura seemed too busy cropping her ringlets, to notice what was going on. All the way along upon the floor, Harry let fall a perfect shower of hot wax, which spotted the nursery carpet from the table where he had found the candle into the next room, where he disappeared, and shut the door, that no one might interfere with what he liked to do.

After he had been absent some time, the door was hastily opened again, and Laura felt surprised to see Harry come back with his face as red as a stick of sealing-wax, and his [37] ]large eyes staring wider than they had ever stared before, with a look of rueful consternation.

“What is the matter!” exclaimed Laura in a terrified voice. “Has anything dreadful happened? Why do you look so frightened and so surprised?”

“Oh dear! oh dear! what shall I do?” cried Harry, who seemed scarcely to know how he spoke, or where he was. “I don’t know what to do, Laura!”

“What can be the matter! do tell me at once, Harry,” said Laura, shaking with apprehension. “Speak as fast as you can!”

“Will you not tell Mrs. Crabtree, nor grandmama, nor anybody else?” cried Harry, bursting into tears. “I am so very, very sorry, and so frightened! Laura! do you know, I took a candle into the next room, merely to play with it.”

“Well! go on, Harry! go on! what did you do with the candle?”

“I only put it on the bed for a single minute, to see how the flame would look there,—well! do you know it blazed away famously, and then all the bed clothes began burning too! Oh! there is such a terrible fire in the next room! you never saw anything like it! what shall we do? If old Andrew were to come up, do you think he could put it out? I have shut the door that Mrs. Crabtree may not see the flames. Be sure, Laura, to tell nobody but Andrew.”

Laura became terrified at the way she saw poor Harry in, but when she opened the door to find out the real state of affairs, oh! what a dreadful sight was there! all the beds were on fire, while bright red flames were blazing up to the roof of the room, with a fierce roaring noise, which it was perfectly frightful to hear. She screamed aloud with terror at this alarming scene, while Harry did all he could to quiet her, and even put his hand over her mouth, that her cries might not be heard. Laura now struggled to get loose, and [38] ]called louder and louder, till at last every maid in the house came racing up stairs, three steps at a time, to know what was the matter. Immediately upon seeing the flames, they all began screaming too, in such a loud discordant way, that it sounded as if a whole flight of crows had come into the passages. Never was there such an uproar heard in the house before, for the walls echoed with a general cry of “Fire! fire! fire!”

Up flew Mrs. Crabtree towards the nursery like a sky-rocket, scolding furiously, talking louder than all the others put together, and asking who had set the house on fire, while Harry and Laura scarcely knew whether to be most frightened for the raging flames, or the raging Mrs. Crabtree; but, in the meantime, they both shrunk into the smallest possible size, and hid themselves behind a door.

During all this confusion, Old Andrew luckily remembered, that, in the morning, there had been a great washing in the laundry, where large tubs full of water were standing, so he called to the few maids who had any of their senses remaining, desiring them to assist in carrying up some buckets, that they might be emptied on the burning beds, to extinguish the flames if possible. Every body was now in a hurry, and all elbowing each other out of the way, while it was most extraordinary to see how old Andrew exerted himself, as if he had been a fireman all his life, while Mrs. Marmalade, the fat cook, who could hardly carry herself up stairs in general, actively assisted to bring up the great heavy tubs, and to pour them out like a cascade upon the burning curtains, till the nursery-floor looked like a duck pond.

Meantime Harry and Laura added to the confusion as much as they could, and were busier than anybody, stealing down the back-stairs whenever Mrs. Crabtree was not in sight, and filling their little jugs with water, which they brought up, as fast as possible, and dashed upon the flames, [39] ]till at last, it is to be feared, they began to feel quite amused with the bustle, and to be almost sorry when the conflagration diminished. At one time, Laura very nearly set her own frock on fire, as she ventured too near, but Harry pulled her back, and then courageously advanced to discharge a shower from his own little jug, remaining stationary to watch the effect, till his face was almost scorched.

At last the fire became less and less, till it went totally out, but not before the nursery furniture had been reduced to perfect ruins, besides which, Betty had her arm sadly burned in the confusion. Mrs. Marmalade’s cap was completely destroyed, and Mrs. Crabtree’s best gown had so large a hole burned in the skirt, that she never could wear it again!

After all was quiet, and the fire completely extinguished, Major Graham took Laura down stairs to Lady Harriet’s dressing-room, that she might tell the whole particulars of how this alarming accident happened in the nursery, for nobody could guess what had caused so sudden and dreadful a fire, which seemed to have been as unexpected as a flash of lightning.

Lady Harriet had felt so terrified by the noise and confusion, that she was out of bed, sitting up in an arm-chair, supported by pillows, when Laura entered, at the sight of whom, with her well-cropped head, she made an exclamation of perfect amazement.

“Why! who on earth is that! Laura! my dear child! what has become of all your hair? Were your curls burned off in the fire? or did the fright make you grow bald? What is the meaning of all this?”

Laura turned perfectly crimson with shame and distress, for she now felt convinced of her own great misconduct about the scissors and curls, but she had been taught on all occasions to speak the truth, and would rather have died than told a lie, or even allowed any person to believe what was not true, therefore she answered in a low, frightened [40] ]voice, while the tears came into her eyes, “My hair has not been burned off, grandmama! but—but—”

“Well, child! speak out!” said Lady Harriet, impatiently, “did some hair-dresser come to the house and rob you?”

“Or are you like the ladies of Carthage who gave their long hair for bows and arrows?” asked Major Graham. “I never saw such a little fright in my life as you look now; but tell us all about it?”

“I have been quite as naughty as Harry!” answered Laura, bursting into tears and sobbing with grief; “I was cutting off my hair with Mrs. Crabtree’s scissors all the time that he was setting the nursery on fire!”

“Did any mortal ever hear of two such little torments!” exclaimed Major Graham, hardly able to help laughing. “I wonder if anybody else in the world has such mischievous children!”

“It is certainly very strange, that you and Harry never can contrive to be three hours out of a scrape!” said Lady Harriet gravely; “now Frank, on the contrary, never forgets what I bid him do. You might suppose he carried Mrs. Crabtree in his pocket, to remind him constantly of his duty; but there are not two such boys in the world as Frank!”

“No,” added Major Graham; “Harry set the house on fire, and Frank will set the Thames on fire!”

When Laura saw uncle David put on one of his funny looks, while he spoke in this way to Lady Harriet, she almost forgot her former fright, and became surprised to observe her grandmama busy preparing what she called a coach-wheel, which had been often given as a treat to Harry and herself when they were particularly good. This delightful wheel was manufactured by taking a whole round slice of the loaf, in the centre of which was placed a large tea-spoonful of jelly, after which long spokes of marmalade, jam, and honey, were made to diverge most tastefully in [41] ]every direction towards the crust, and Laura watched the progress of this business with great interest and anxiety, wondering if it could be hoped that her grandmama really meant to forgive all her misconduct during the day.

“That coach-wheel is, of course, meant for me!” said Major Graham, pretending to be very hungry, and looking slyly at Laura; “It cannot possibly be intended for our little hair-dresser here!”

“Yes, it is!” answered Lady Harriet, smiling. “I have some thoughts of excusing Laura this time, because she always tells me the truth, without attempting to conceal any foolish thing she does. It will be very long before she has any hair to cut off again, so I hope she may be older and wiser by that time, especially considering that every looking-glass she sees for six months will make her feel ashamed of herself. She certainly deserves some reward for having prevented the house to-night from being burned to the ground.”

“I am glad you think so, because here is a shilling that has been burning in my pocket for the last few minutes, as I wished to bestow it on Laura for having saved all our lives, and if she had behaved still better, I might perhaps have given her a gold watch!”

Laura was busily employed in eating her coach-wheel, and trying to fancy what the gold watch would have looked like which she might probably have got from uncle David, when suddenly the door burst open, and Mrs. Crabtree hurried into the room, with a look of surprise and alarm, her face as red as a poppy, and her eye fixed on the hole in her best gown, while she spoke so loud and angrily, that Laura almost trembled.

“If you please, my lady! where can Master Harry be? I cannot find him in any corner!—we have been searching all over the house, up stairs and down stairs, in vain. Not [42] ]a garret or a closet but has been ransacked, and nobody can guess what has become of him!”

“Did you look up the chimney, Mrs. Crabtree?” asked Major Graham, laughing to see how excited she looked.

“Indeed, Sir! it is no joke,” answered Mrs. Crabtree, sulkily; “I am almost afraid Master Harry has been burned in the fire! The last time Betty saw him, he was throwing a jug of water into the flames, and no one has ever seen or heard of him since! There is a great many ashes and cinders lying about the room, and——”

“Do you think, in sober seriousness, Mrs. Crabtree, that Harry would melt away like a wax doll, without asking any body to extinguish him?” said Major Graham, smiling. “No! no! little boys are not quite so easily disposed of. I shall find Harry in less than five minutes, if he is above ground.”

But uncle David was quite mistaken in expecting to discover Harry so easily, for he searched and searched in vain. He looked into every possible or impossible place—the library, the kitchen, the garrets, the laundry, the drawing-room, all without success,—he peeped under the tables, behind the curtains, over the beds, beneath the pillows, and into Mrs. Crabtree’s bonnet-box,—he even opened the tea-chest, and looked out at the window, in case Harry had tumbled over, but nowhere could he be found.

“Not a mouse is stirring!” exclaimed Major Graham, beginning now to look exceedingly grave and anxious. “This is very strange! The house-door is locked, therefore, unless Harry made his escape through the key-hole, he must be here! It is most unaccountable what the little pickle can have done with himself!”

When Major Graham chose to exert his voice, it was as loud as a trumpet, and could be heard half a mile off; so he now called out, like thunder, from the top of the stairs to the [43] ]bottom, saying, “Hollo, Harry! hollo! Come here, my boy! Nobody shall hurt you! Harry! where are you!”

Uncle David waited to listen, but all was still,—no answer could be heard, and there was not a sound in the house, except poor Laura at the bottom of the stairs, sobbing with grief and terror about Harry having been lost, and Mrs. Crabtree grumbling angrily to herself, on account of the large hole in her best gown.

By this time Lady Harriet nearly fainted with fatigue, for she was so very old, and had been ill all day; so she grew worse and worse, till everybody said she must go to bed, and try if it would be possible to fall asleep, assuring her that Harry must soon be found, as nothing particular could have happened to him, or some person would have seen it.

“Indeed, my lady! Master Harry is just like a bad shilling that is sure to come back,” said Mrs. Crabtree, helping her to undress, while she continued to talk the whole time about the fire, showing her own unfortunate gown, describing the trouble she had taken to save the house from being burned, and always ending every sentence with a wish that she could lay her hands on Harry to punish him as he deserved.

“The truth is, I just spoil and indulge the children too much, my lady!” added Mrs. Crabtree, in a self-satisfied tone of voice. “I really blame myself often for being over easy and kind.”

“You have nothing to accuse yourself of in that respect,” answered Lady Harriet, unable to help smiling.

“Your ladyship is very good to say so. Major Graham is so fond of our young people, that it is lucky they have some one to keep them in order. I shall make a duty, my lady, of being more strict than ever. Master Harry must be made an example of this time!” added Mrs. Crabtree, angrily glancing at the hole in her gown. “I shall teach [44] ]him to remember this day the longest hour he has to live!”

“Harry will not forget it any how,” answered Lady Harriet languidly. “Perhaps, Mrs. Crabtree, we might as well not be severe with the poor boy on this occasion. As the old proverb says, ‘there is no use in pouring water on a drowned mouse.’ Harry has got a sad fright for his pains, and at all events you must find him first, before he can be punished. Where can the poor child be hid?”

“I would give sixpence to find out that, my lady!” answered Mrs. Crabtree, helping Lady Harriet into bed, after which she closed the shutters, put out the candles, and left the room, angrily muttering, “Master Harry cares no more for me than the poker cares for the tongs, but I shall teach him another story soon.”

Lady Harriet now feebly closed her eyes, being quite exhausted, and was beginning to feel the pleasant, confused sensation that people have before going to sleep, when some noise made her suddenly start quite awake. She sat up in bed to listen, but could not be sure whether it had been a great noise at a distance, or a little noise in the room; so after waiting two or three minutes, she sunk back upon the pillows, and tried to forget it. Again, however, she distinctly heard something rustling in the bed curtains, and opened her eyes to see what could be the matter, but all was dark. Something seemed to be breathing very near her, however, and the curtains shook worse than before, till Lady Harriet became really alarmed.

“It must surely be a cat in the room!” thought she, hastily pulling the bell rope, till it nearly came down. “That tiresome little animal will make such a noise, I shall not be able to sleep all night!”

The next minute Lady Harriet was startled to hear a loud sob close beside her; and when everybody rushed up stairs to ask what was the matter, they brought candles to [45] ]search the room, and there was Harry! He lay doubled up in a corner, and crying as if his heart would break, yet still endeavouring not to be seen; for Harry always thought it a terrible disgrace to cry, and would have concealed himself anywhere, rather than be observed weeping. Laura burst into tears also, when she saw what red eyes and pale cheeks Harry had; but Mrs. Crabtree lost no time in pulling him out of his place, being quite impatient to begin her scold, and to produce her tawse, though she received a sad disappointment on this occasion, as uncle David unexpectedly interfered to get him off.

“Come now, Mrs. Crabtree,” said he good-naturedly; “put up the tawse for this time; you are rather too fond of the leather. Harry seems really sorry and frightened, so we must be merciful. That cataract of tears he is shedding now, would have extinguished the fire if it had come in time! Harry is like a culprit with the rope about his neck; but he shall not be executed. Let me be judge and jury in this case; and my sentence is a very dreadful one. Harry must sleep all to-night in the burned nursery, having no other covering than the burned blankets, with large holes in them, that he may never forget

“THE TERRIBLE FIRE!”

[46]
]CHAPTER IV.
THE PRODIGIOUS CAKE.

Yet theirs the joy

That lifts their steps, that sparkles in their eyes;

That talks or laughs, or runs, or shouts, or plays,

And speaks in all their looks, and all their ways.

Crabbe.

Next day after the fire, Laura could think of nothing but what she was to do with the shilling that uncle David had given her; and a thousand plans came into her head, while many wants entered her thoughts, which never occurred before; so that, if twenty shillings had been in her hand instead of one, they would all have gone twenty different ways.

Lady Harriet advised that it should be laid bye till Laura had fully considered what she would like best; reminding her very truly, that money is lame in coming, but flies in going away. “Many people can get a shilling, Laura,” said her grandmama; “but the difficulty is to keep it; for you know the old proverb tells that ‘a fool and his money are soon parted.’”

“Yes, Miss! so give it to me, and I shall take care of your shilling!” added Mrs. Crabtree, holding out her hand to Laura, who fell that if her money once disappeared into that capacious pocket, she would never see it again. “Children have no use for money! that shilling will only burn a hole in your purse, till it is spent on some foolish thing or [47] ]other. You will be losing your thimble soon, or mislaying your gloves; for all these things seem to fly in every direction, as if they got legs and wings as soon as they belong to you; so then that shilling may replace what is lost.”

Mrs. Crabtree looked as if she would eat it up; but Laura grasped her treasure still tighter in her hand, exclaiming,

“No! no! this is mine! Uncle David never thought of my shilling being taken care of! He meant me to do whatever I liked with it! Uncle David says he cannot endure saving children, and that he wishes all money were turned into slates, when little girls keep it longer than a week.”

“I like that!” said Harry, eagerly; “it is so pleasant to spend money, when the shopkeeper bows to me over the counter so politely, and asks what I please to want.”

“Older people than you like spending money, Master Harry, and spend whether they have it or no; but the greatest pleasure is to keep it. For instance, Miss Laura, whatever she sees worth a shilling in any shop, might be hers if she pleases; so then it is quite as good as her own. We shall look in at the bazaar every morning, to fix upon something that she would like to have, and then consider of it for two or three days.”

Laura thought this plan so very unsatisfactory, that she lost no time in getting her shilling changed into two sixpences, one of which she immediately presented to Harry, who positively refused for a long time to accept of it, insisting that Laura should rather buy some pretty plaything for herself; but she answered that it was much pleasanter to divide her fortune with Harry, than to be selfish, and spend it all alone. “I am sure, Harry,” added she, “if this money had been yours, you would have said the same thing, and given the half of what you got to me; so now let us say no more about that, but tell me what would be the best use to make of my sixpence?”

[48]
]“You might buy that fine red morocco purse we saw in the shop window yesterday,” observed Harry, looking very serious and anxious, on being consulted. “Do you remember how much we both wished to have it?”

“But what is the use of a purse, with no money to keep in it!” answered Laura, looking earnestly at Harry for more advice. “Think again of something else.”

“Would you like a new doll?”

“Yes; but I have nothing to dress her with!”

“Suppose you buy that pretty geranium in a red flower-pot at the gardener’s!”

“If it would only live for a week, I might be tempted to try; but flowers will always die with me. They seem to wither when I so much as look at them. Do you remember that pretty fuchsia

that I almost drowned the first day grandmama gave it me; and we forgot for a week afterwards to water it at all. I am not a good flower doctor.”

“Then buy a gold watch at once,” said Harry, laughing; “or a fine pony, with a saddle, to ride on.”

“Now, Harry, pray be quite in earnest. You know I might as well attempt to buy the moon as a gold watch; so think of something else.”

“It is very difficult to make a good use of money,” said Harry, pretending to look exceedingly wise. “Do you know, Laura, I once found out that you could have twelve of those large ship biscuits we saw at the baker’s shop for sixpence. Only think! you could feed the whole town, and make a present to everybody in the house besides! I dare say Mrs. Crabtree might like one with her tea. All the maids would think them a treat. You could present one to Frank, another to old Andrew, and there would still be some left for these poor children at the cottage.”

“Oh! that is the very thing!” cried Laura, running out of the room to send Andrew off with a basket, and looking as happy as possible. Not long afterwards, Frank, who [49] ]had returned from school, was standing at the nursery window, when he suddenly called out in a voice of surprise and amazement,

“Come here, Harry! look at old Andrew! he is carrying something tied up in a towel, as large as his own head! what can it be?”

“That is all for me! these are my biscuits!” said Laura, running off to receive the parcel, and though she heard Frank laughing, while Harry told all about them, she did not care, but brought her whole collection triumphantly into the nursery.

“Oh fancy! how perfect!” cried Harry, opening the bundle; “this is very good fun!”

“Here are provisions for a siege!” added Frank. “You have at least got enough for your money, Laura!”

“Take one yourself, Frank!” said she, reaching him the largest, and then, with the rest all tied in her apron, Laura proceeded up and down stairs, making presents to every person she met, till her whole store was finished; and she felt quite satisfied and happy because everybody seemed pleased and returned many thanks, except Mrs. Crabtree, who said she had no teeth to eat such hard things, which were only fit for sailors going to America or the West Indies.

“You should have bought me a pound of sugar, Miss Laura, and that might have been a present worth giving.”

“You are too sweet already, Mrs. Crabtree!” said Frank, laughing. “I shall send you a sugar-cane from the West Indies, to beat Harry and Laura with, and a whole barrel of sugar for yourself, from my own estate.”

“None of your nonsense, Master Frank! Get out of the nursery this moment! You with an estate indeed! You will not have a place to put your foot upon soon except the topmast in a man-of-war, where all the bad boys in a ship are sent.”

[50]
]“Perhaps, as you are not to be the captain, I may escape, and be dining with the officers sometimes! I mean to send you home a fine new India shawl, Mrs. Crabtree, the very moment I arrive at Madras, and some china tea-cups from Canton.”

“Fiddlesticks and nonsense!” said Mrs. Crabtree, who sometimes enjoyed a little jesting with Frank. “Keep all them rattle-traps till you are a rich nabob, and come home to look for Mrs. Frank,—a fine wife she will be! Ladies that get fortunes from India are covered all over with gold chains, and gold muslins, and scarlet shawls. She will eat nothing but curry and rice, and never put her foot to the ground except to step into her carriage.”

“I hope you are not a gipsey, to tell fortunes!” cried Harry, laughing; “Frank would die rather than take such a wife.”

“Or, at least, I would rather have a tooth drawn than do it,” added Frank, smiling. “Perhaps I may prefer to marry one of those old wives on the chimney-tops; but it is too serious to say I would rather die, because nobody knows how awful it is to die, till the appointed day comes.”

“Very true and proper, Master Frank,” replied Mrs. Crabtree; “you speak like a printed book sometimes, and you deserve a good wife.”

“Then I shall return home some day with chests of gold, and let you choose one for me, as quiet and good-natured as yourself, Mrs. Crabtree,” said Frank, taking up his books and hastening off to school, running all the way, as he was rather late, and Mr. Lexicon, the master, had promised a grand prize for the boy who came most punctually to his lessons, which everybody declared that Frank was sure to gain, as he had never once been absent at the right moment.

Major Graham often tried to teaze Frank, by calling him “the Professor,”—asking him questions which it was [51] ]impossible to answer, and then pretending to be quite shocked at his ignorance; but no one ever saw the young scholar put out of temper by those tricks and trials, for he always laughed more heartily than any one else, at the joke.

“Now show me, Frank,” said uncle David, one morning, “how do you advance three steps backwards?”

“That is quite impossible, unless you turn me into a crab.”

“Tell me, then, which is the principal town in Caffraria?”

“Is there any town there? I do not recollect it.”

“Then so much the worse!—how are you ever to get through life without knowing the chief town in Caffraria! I am quite ashamed of your ignorance. Now let us try a little arithmetic! Open the door of your understanding and tell me, when wheat is six shillings a bushel, what is the price of a penny loaf. Take your slate and calculate that.”

“Yes, uncle David, if you will find out, when gooseberries are two shillings the pint, what is the price of a threepenny tart. You remind me of my old nursery song—

‘The man in the wilderness asked me,

How many strawberries grew in the sea;

I answered him, as I thought it good,

As many red herrings as grew in the wood.’”

Some days after Laura had distributed the biscuits, she became very sorry for having squandered her shilling, without attending to Lady Harriet’s good advice, about keeping it carefully in her pocket for at least a week, to see what would happen. A very pleasant way of using money now fell in her way, but she had been a foolish spendthrift, so her pockets were empty, when she most wished them to be full. Harry came that morning after breakfast into the nursery, looking in a great bustle, and whispering to Laura, “What a pity your sixpence is gone! but as Mrs. Crabtree says, ‘we cannot both eat our cake and have it!’”

[52]
]“No!” answered Laura, as seriously as if she had never thought of this before, “but why do you so particularly wish my money back to-day?”

“Because such a very nice, funny thing is to be done this morning. You and I are asked to join the party, but I am afraid we cannot afford it! All our little cousins and companions intend going with Mr. Harwood, the tutor, at twelve o’clock, to climb up to the very top of Arthur’s Seat, where they are to dine and have a dance. There will be about twenty boys and girls of the party, but every body is to carry a basket filled with provisions for dinner, either cakes, or fruit, or biscuits, which are to be eat on the great rock at the top of the hill. Now grandmama says we ought to have had money enough to supply what is necessary, and then we might have gone, but no one can be admitted who has not at least sixpence to buy something.”

“Oh! how provoking!” said Laura, sadly, “I wonder when we shall learn always to follow grandmama’s advice, for that is sure to turn out best in the end. I never take my own way without being sorry for it afterwards, so I deserve now to be disappointed and remain at home; but, Harry, your sixpence is still safe, so pray join this delightful party, and tell me all about it afterwards.”

“If it could take us both, I should be very happy, but I will not go without you, Laura, after you were so good to me, and gave me this in a present. No, no! I only wish we could do like the poor madman grandmama mentioned, who planted sixpences in the ground that they might grow into shillings.”

“Pray! what are you two looking so solemn about?” asked Frank, hurrying into the room, at that moment, on his way to school. “Are you talking of some mischief that has been done already, or only about some mischief you are intending to do soon?”

“Neither the one nor the other,” answered Laura. [53] ]“But, oh! Frank, I am sure you will be sorry for us, when we tell you of our sad disappointment!”

She then related the whole story of the party to Arthur’s Seat, mentioning that Mr. Harwood had kindly offered to take charge of Harry and herself, but as her little fortune had been so foolishly squandered, she could not go, and Harry said it would be impossible to enjoy the fun without her, though Lady Harriet had given them both leave to be of the party.

All the time that Laura spoke, Frank stood, with his hands in his pockets, where he seemed evidently searching for something, and when the whole history was told, he said to Harry, “Let me see this poor little sixpence of yours! I am a very clever conjuror, and could perhaps turn it into a shilling!”

“Nonsense, Frank!” said Laura, laughing; “you might as well turn Harry into uncle David!”

“Well! we shall see!” answered Frank, taking up the sixpence. “I have put the money into this box!—rattle it well!—once! twice! thrice!—there, peep in!—now it is a shilling! I told you so!”

Frank ran joyously out of the room, being much amused with the joke, for he had put one of his own shillings into the box for Harry and Laura, who were excessively surprised at first, and felt really ashamed to take this very kind present from Frank, when he so seldom had money of his own; but they knew how generous he was, for he often repeated that excellent maxim, “It is more blessed to give than to receive.”

After a few minutes, they remembered that nothing could prevent them now from going with Mr. Harwood to Arthur’s Seat, which put Laura into such a state of ecstacy, that she danced round the room for joy, while Harry jumped upon the tables and chairs, tumbled head over heels, and called Betty to come immediately that they might get ready.

[54]
]When Mrs. Crabtree heard such an uproar, she hastened also into the room, asking what had happened to cause this riot, and she became very angry indeed, to hear that Harry and Laura had both got leave to join in this grand expedition.

“You will be spoiling all your clothes, and getting yourselves into a heat! I wonder her ladyship allows this! How much better you would be taking a quiet walk with me in the gardens! I shall really speak to Lady Harriet about it! The air must be very cold on the top of them great mountains! I am sure you will both have colds for a month after this Tom-foolery.”

“Oh no, Mrs. Crabtree! I promise not to catch cold!” cried Harry, eagerly; “and, besides, you can scarcely prevent our going now, for grandmama has set out on her long airing in the carriage, so there is nobody for you to ask about keeping us at home, except uncle David!”

Mrs. Crabtree knew from experience, that Major Graham was a hopeless case, as he always took part with the children, and liked nothing so much for old and young as “a ploy;” so she grumbled on to herself, while her eyes looked as sharp as a pair of scissors with rage. “You will come back, turned into scare-crows, with all your nice clean clothes in tatters,” said she, angrily; “but if there is so much as a speck upon this best new jacket and trowsers, I shall know the reason why.”

“What a comfort it would be, if there were no such things in the world as ‘new clothes,’ for I am always so much happier in the old ones,” said Harry. “People at the shops should sell clothes that will never either dirty or tear!”

“You ought to be dressed in fur, like Robinson Crusoe, or sent out naked, like the little savages,” said Mrs. Crabtree, “or painted black and blue like them wild old Britons that lived here long ago!”

[55]
]“I am black and blue sometimes, without being painted,” said Harry, escaping to the door. “Good-bye, Mrs. Crabtree! I hope you will not die of weariness without us! On our return we shall tell you all our delightful adventures.”

About half an hour afterwards, Harry and Laura were seen hurrying out of the pastry-cook, Mrs. Weddell’s shop, bearing little covered baskets in their hands, but nobody could guess what was in them. They whispered and laughed together with very merry faces, looking the very pictures of happiness, and running along as fast as they could to join the noisy party of their cousins and companions, almost fearing that Mr. Harwood might have set off without them. Frank often called him “Mr. Punctuality,” as he was so very particular about his scholars being in good time on all occasions; and certainly Mr. Harwood carried his watch more in his hand than in his pocket, being in the habit of constantly looking to see that nobody arrived too late. Mail-coaches or steamboats could hardly keep the time better, when an hour had once been named, and the last words that Harry heard when he was invited were, “Remember! sharp twelve.”

The great clock of St. Andrew’s Church was busy striking that hour, and every little clock in the town was saying the same thing, when Mr. Harwood himself, with his watch in his hand, opened the door, and walked out, followed by a dozen of merry-faced boys and girls, all speaking at once, and vociferating louder than the clocks, as if they thought everybody had grown deaf.

“I shall reach the top of Arthur’s Seat first,” said Peter Grey. “All of you follow me, for I know the shortest way. It is only a hop, step, and a jump!”

“Rather a long step!” cried Robert Fordyce. “But I could lead you a much better way, though I shall show it to nobody but myself.”

[56]
]“We must certainly drink water at St. Anthony’s Well,” observed Laura; “because whatever any one wishes for when he tastes it, is sure to happen immediately.”

“Then I shall wish that some person may give me a new doll,” said Mary Forrester. “My old one is only fit for being lady’s maid to a fine new doll.”

“I am in ninety-nine minds what to wish for,” exclaimed Harry; “we must take care not to be like the foolish old woman in the fairy tale, who got only a yard of black pudding.”

“I shall ask for a piebald pony, with a whip, a saddle, and a bridle!” cried Peter Grey; “and for a week’s holidays,—and a new watch,—and a spade,—and a box of French plums,—and to be first at the top of Arthur’s Seat,—and—and—”

“Stop, Peter!—stop! you can only have one wish at St. Anthony’s Well,” interrupted Mr. Harwood. “If you ask more, you lose all.”

“That is very hard, for I want everything,” replied Peter. “What are you wishing for, Sir?”

“What shall I ask for?” said Mr. Harwood, reflecting to himself. “I have not a want in the world?”

“O yes, Sir! you must wish for something!” cried the whole party, eagerly. “Do invent something to ask, Mr. Harwood!”

“Then I wish you may all behave well till we reach the top of Arthur’s Seat, and all come safely down again.”

“You may be sure of that already!” said Peter, laughing. “I set such a very good example to all my companions, that they never behave ill when I am present,—no! not even by accident! When Dr. Algebra examined our class to-day, he asked Mr. Lexicon, ‘What has become of the best boy in your school this morning?’ and the answer was, ‘Of course your mean Peter Grey! He is gone to the top of Arthur’s Seat with that excellent man, Mr. Harwood!’”

[57]
]“Indeed!—and pray, Master Peter, what bird whispered this story into your ear, seeing it has all happened since we left home!—but people who are praised by nobody else, often take to praising themselves!”

“Who knows better!—and here is Harry Graham, the very ditto of myself,—so steady he might be fit to drill a whole regiment. We shall lead the party quite safely up the hill, and down again, without any ladders.”

“And without wings,” added Harry, laughing; “but what are we to draw water out of the well with?—here are neither buckets, nor tumblers, nor glasses!”

“I could lend you my thimble!” said Laura, searching her pocket. “That will hold enough of water for one wish, and every person may have the loan of it in turn.”

“This is the very first time your thimble has been of use to anybody!” said Harry, slyly; “but I dare say it is not worn into holes with too much sewing, therefore it will make a famous little magical cup for St. Anthony’s Well. You know the fairies who dance here by moonlight, lay their table-cloth upon a mushroom, and sit round it, to be merry, but I never heard what they use for a drinking cup.”

Harry now proceeded briskly along to the well, singing as he went, a song which had been taught him by uncle David, beginning,

I wish I were a brewer’s horse,

Five quarters of a year,

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.”

“I have a better plan than that, Laura! you shall sit upon the highest point of Arthur’s Seat as well as anybody, before either of us is an hour older! Let me go first, because I get on famously, and you must never look behind, but keep tight hold of my jacket, so then every step I advance will pull you up also.”

Laura was delighted with this plan, which succeeded perfectly well, but they ascended rather slowly, as it was exceedingly fatiguing to Harry, who looked

quite happy all the time to be of use, for he always felt glad when he could do any thing for anybody, more particularly for either Laura or Frank. Now, the whole party was at last safely assembled on the very highest point of Arthur’s Seat, so the boys threw their caps up in the air, and gave three tremendous cheers, which frightened the very crows over their heads, and sent a flock of sheep scampering down the mountain side. After that, they planted Mr. Harwood’s walking-stick in the ground, for a staff, while Harry tore off the blue silk handkerchief which Mrs. Crabtree had tied about his neck, and without caring whether he caught cold or not, he fastened it [60] ]on the pole for a flag, being quite delighted to see how it waved in the wind most triumphantly, looking very like what sailors put up when they take possession of a desert island.

“Now, for business!” said Mr. Harwood, sitting down on the rock, and uncovering a prodigious cake, nearly as large as a cheese, which he had taken the trouble to carry, with great difficulty, up the hill. “I suppose nobody is hungry after our long walk! Let us see what all the baskets contain!”

Not a moment was lost in seating themselves on the grass, while the stores were displayed, amidst shouts of laughter and applause which generally followed whatever came forth. Sandwiches, or, as Peter Grey called them, “savages;” gingerbread, cakes, and fruit, all appeared in turn. Robert Fordyce brought a dozen of hard-boiled eggs, all dyed different colours, blue, green, pink, and yellow, but not one was white. Edmund Ashford produced a collection of very sour-looking apples, and Charles Forrester showed a number of little gooseberry tarts, but when it became time for Peter’s basket to be opened, it contained nothing except a knife and fork to cut up whatever his companions would give him!

“Peter! Peter! you shabby fellow!” said Charles Forrester, reaching him one of his tarts, “you should be put in the tread-mill as a sturdy beggar!”

“Or thrown down from the top of this precipice,” added Harry, giving him a cake. “I wonder you can look any of us in the face, Peter!”

“I have heard,” said Mr. Harwood, “that a stone is shown in Ireland, called ‘the stone of Blarney,’ and whoever kisses it, is never afterwards ashamed of any thing he does. Our friend Peter has probably passed that way lately!”

“At any rate, I am not likely to be starved to death amongst you all!” answered the impudent boy, demolishing [61] ]every thing he could get; and it is believed that Peter ate, on this memorable occasion, three times more than any other person, as each of the party offered him something, and he never was heard to say, “No!”

“I could swallow Arthur’s Seat if it were turned into a plum-pudding,” said he, pocketing buns, apples, eggs, walnuts, biscuits, and almonds, till his coat stuck out all round like a balloon. “Has any one any thing more to spare?”