“Oh! uncle David! uncle David!” cried Laura, when they arrived from Holiday House, “I would jump out of the carriage window with joy to see you again; only the persons passing in the street might be surprised!”
“Not at all! They are quite accustomed to see people jumping out of the windows with joy, whenever I appear.”
“We have so much to tell you,” exclaimed Harry and Laura, each seizing hold of a hand, “we hardly know where to begin!”
“Ladies and gentlemen! If you both talk at once, I must get a new pair of ears! So you have not been particularly miserable at Holiday House?”
“No! no! uncle David! we did not think there had been so much happiness in the world,” answered Laura, eagerly. “The last two days we could do nothing but play and laugh, and”——
“And grow fat! Why! you both look so well fed, you are just fit for killing! I shall be obliged to shut you up two or three days, without anything to eat, as is done to pet lap-dogs, when they are getting corpulent and gouty.”
[119]
“Then we shall be like bears living on our paws,” replied
Harry, “and uncle David! I would rather do that, than be
a glutton like Peter Grey. He went to a cheap shop lately,
where old cheese-cakes were sold at half-price, and greedily
devoured nearly a dozen, thinking that the dead flies scattered
on the top were currants, till Frank shewed him his
mistake!”
“Frank should have let him eat in peace! There is no accounting for tastes. I once knew a lady who liked to swallow spiders! She used to crack and eat them with the greatest delight, whenever she could catch one.”
“Oh! what a horrid woman! That is even worse than grandmama’s story about Dr. Manvers having dined on a dish of mice, fried in crumbs of bread!”
“You know the old proverb, Harry, ‘one man’s meat is another man’s poison.’ The Persians are disgusted at our eating lobsters; and the Hindoos think us scarcely fit to exist, because we live on beef; while we are equally amazed at the Chinese for devouring dog pies, and birds’-nest soup. You turn up your nose at the French for liking frogs; and they think us ten times worse with our singed sheep’s head, oat cakes, and haggis.”
“That reminds me,” said Lady Harriet, “that when Charles X. lived in what he called the ‘dear Canongate,’ His Majesty was heard to say, that he tried every sort of Scotch goose, ‘the solan goose, the wild goose, and the tame goose; but the best goose of all, was the hag-goose.’”
“Very polite, indeed, to adopt our national taste so completely,” observed uncle David, smiling. “When my regiment was quartered in Spain, an officer of ours, a great epicure, and not quite so complaisant, used to say that the country was scarcely fit to live in, because there it is customary to dress almost every dish with sugar. At last, one day, in a rage, he ordered eggs to be brought up in their shells for dinner, saying, ‘that is the only thing the cook [120] cannot possibly spoil.’ We played him a trick, however, which was very like what you would have done, Harry, on a similar occasion. I secretly put pounded sugar into the salt-cellar, and when he tasted his first mouthful, you should have seen the look of fury with which he sprung off his seat, exclaiming, ‘the barbarians eat sugar even with their eggs!’”
“That would be the country for me to travel in,” said Harry. “I could live in a barrel of sugar; and my little pony, Tom Thumb, would be happy to accompany me there, as he likes anything sweet.”
“All animals are of the same opinion. I remember the famous rider, Ducrow, telling a brother-officer of mine, that the way in which he gains so much influence over his horses, is merely by bribing them with sugar. They may be managed in that way like children, and are quite aware, if it be taken from them as a punishment for being restive.”
“Oh! those beautiful horses at Ducrow’s! How often I think of them since we were there!” exclaimed Harry. “They were quite like fairies, with fine arched necks, and long tails!”
“I never heard before of a fairy with a long tail, Master Harry; but perhaps in the course of your travels you may have seen such a thing.”
“How I should like to ride upon Tom Thumb, in Ducrow’s way, with my toe on the saddle!”
“Fine doings indeed!” exclaimed Mrs. Crabtree, who had entered the room at this moment. “Have you forgotten already, Master Harry, how many of the nursery plates you broke one day when I was out, in trying to copy that there foolish Indian juggler, who tossed his plates in the air, and twirled them on his thumb! There must be no more such nonsense; for if once your neck is broke by a fall off Tom Thumb, no doctor that I know of can mend it again. Remember what a terrible tumble you had off Jessy last year!”
[121]
“You are always speaking about that little overturn, Mrs.
Crabtree; and it was not worth recollecting above a week!
Did you never see a man thrown off his horse before?”
“A man and horse indeed!” said uncle David, laughing, when he looked at Harry. “You and your charger were hardly large enough then for a toy-shop; and you must grow a little more, Captain Gulliver, before you will be fit for a dragoon regiment.”
Harry and Laura stayed very quietly at home for several weeks after their return from Holiday House, attending so busily to lessons, that uncle David said he felt much afraid they were going to be a pair of little wonders, who would die of too much learning.
“You will be taken ill of the multiplication table some day, and confined to bed with a violent fit of geography! Pray take care of yourselves, and do not devour above three books at once,” said Major Graham one day, entering the room with a note in his hand. “Here is an invitation that I suppose you are both too busy to accept, so perhaps I might as well send an apology; eh, Harry?”
Down dropped the lesson-books upon the floor, and up sprung Harry in an ecstacy of delight. “An invitation! Oh! I like an invitation so very much! Pray tell us all about it!”
“Perhaps it is an invitation to spend a month with Dr. Lexicon. What would you say to that? They breakfast upon Latin grammars at school, and have a dish of real French verbs, smothered in onions, for dinner every day.”
“But in downright earnest, uncle David! where are we going?”
“Must I tell you? Well! that good-natured old lady, Mrs. Darwin, intends taking a large party of children next week, in her own carriage, to pass ten days at Ivy Lodge, a charming country house about twenty miles off, where you are all to enjoy perfect happiness. I wish I could be ground [122] down into a little boy myself, for the occasion! Poor good woman! what a life she will lead! There is only one little drawback to your delight, that I am almost afraid to announce.”
“What is that, uncle David?” asked Harry, looking as if nothing in nature could ever make him grave again. “Are we to bite off our own noses before we return?”
“Not exactly; but somebody is to be of the party who will do it for you. Mrs. Darwin has heard that there are certain children who become occasionally rather unmanageable! I cannot think who they can be, for it is certainly nobody we ever saw; so she has requested that Mrs. Crabtree will follow in the mail-coach.”
Harry and Laura looked as if a glass of cold water had been thrown in their faces, after this was mentioned; but they soon forgot every little vexation, in a burst of joy, when, some days afterwards, Mrs. Darwin stopped at the door to pick them up, in the most curious-looking carriage they had ever seen. It was a very large open car, as round as a bird’s nest, and so perfectly crowded with children, that nobody could have supposed any room left even for a doll; but Mrs. Darwin said that whatever number of people came in, there was always accommodation for one more; and this really proved to be the case, for Harry and Laura soon elbowed their way into seats and set off, waving their handkerchiefs to Major Graham, who had helped to pack them in, and who now stood smiling at the door.
As this very large vehicle was drawn by only one horse, it proceeded very slowly; but Mrs. Darwin amused the children with several very diverting stories, and gave them a grand luncheon in the carriage; after which, they threw what was left, wrapped up in an old newspaper, to some people breaking stones on the road, feeling quite delighted to see the surprise and joy of the poor labourers when they opened the parcel. In short, everybody became sorry when [123] this diverting journey was finished, and they drove up, at last, to the gate of a tall old house, that looked as if it had been built in the year one. The walls were very thick, and quite mouldy with age. Indeed, the only wonder was, that Ivy Lodge had still a roof upon its head, for every thing about it looked so tottering and decayed. The very servants were all old; and a white-headed butler opened the door, who looked as frail and gloomy as the house; but before long, the old walls of Ivy Lodge rung and echoed again with sounds of mirth and joy. It seemed to have been built on purpose for hide and seek; there were rooms with invisible doors, and closets cut in the walls, and great old chests where people might have been buried alive for a year, without being found out. The gardens, too, were perfectly enchanting. Such arbours to take strawberries and cream in! and such summer-houses, where they drank tea out of doors every evening! Here they saw a prodigious eagle, fastened to the ground by a chain, and looking the most dull, melancholy creature in the world; while Harry wished the poor bird might be liberated, and thought how delightful it would be to stand by and see him soaring away to his native skies.
“Yes! with a large slice of raw meat in his beak!” said Peter Grey, who was always thinking of eating. “I dare say he lives much better here, than he would do killing his own mutton up in the clouds there, or taking his chance of a dead horse on the sea-shore occasionally.”
Harry and Peter were particularly amused with Mrs. Darwin’s curious collection of pets. There were black swans with red bills, swimming gracefully in a pond close to the window, and ready to rush forward on the shortest notice, for a morsel of bread. The lop-eared rabbits also surprised them, with their ears hanging down to the ground, and they were interested to see a pair of carrier-pigeons which could carry letters as well as the postman. Mrs. Darwin showed [124] them tumbler pigeons too, that performed a summerset in the air when they flew, and horsemen and dragoon pigeons, trumpeters and pouters, till Peter Grey at last begged to see the pigeons that made the pigeon-pies, and the cow that gave the butter-milk; he was likewise very anxious for leave to bring his fishing-rod into the drawing-room, to try whether he could catch one of the beautiful gold-fish that swam about in a large glass globe, saying he thought it might perhaps be very good to eat at breakfast. Mrs. Darwin had a pet lamb that she was exceedingly fond of, because it followed her everywhere, and Harry, who was very fond of the little creature, said he wished some plan could be invented to hinder its ever growing into a great fat vulgar sheep; and he thought the white mice were old animals that had grown grey with years.
There were donkies for the children to ride upon, and Mrs. Darwin had a boat that held the whole party, to sail in, round the pond, and she hung up a swing that seemed to fly about as high as the house, which they swung upon, after which they were allowed to shake the fruit-trees, and to eat whatever came down about their ears; so it very often rained apples and pears in the gardens at Ivy Lodge, for Peter seemed never to tire of that joke; indeed the apple-trees had a sad life of it as long as he remained.
Peter told Mrs. Darwin that he had “a patent appetite,” which was always ready on every occasion; but the good lady became so fond of stuffing the children at all hours, that even he felt a little puzzled sometimes how to dispose of all she heaped upon his plate, while both Harry and Laura, who were far from greedy, became perfectly wearied of hearing the gong. The whole party assembled at eight every morning, to partake of porridge and butter-milk, after which, at ten, they breakfasted with Mrs. Darwin on tea, muffins, and sweetmeats. They then drove in the round open car, to bathe in the sea, on their return from which, [125] luncheon was always ready, and after concluding that, they might pass the interval till dinner among the fruit-trees. They never could eat enough to please Mrs. Darwin at dinner; tea followed, on a most substantial plan; their supper consisted of poached eggs, and the maid was desired to put a biscuit under every visitor’s pillow, in case the young people should be hungry in the night, for Mrs. Darwin said she had been starved at school herself, when she was a little girl, and wished nobody ever to suffer, as she had done, from hunger.
The good lady was so anxious for everything to be exactly as the children liked it, that sometimes Laura felt quite at a loss what to say or do. One day, having cracked her egg-shell at breakfast, Mrs. Darwin peeped anxiously over her shoulder, saying,
“I hope, my dear! your egg is all right?”
“Most excellent indeed!”
“Is it quite fresh?”
“Perfectly! I dare say it was laid only a minute before it was boiled!”
“I have seen the eggs much larger than that.”
“Yes! but then I believe they are rather coarse,—at least we think so, when Mrs. Crabtree gives us a turkey egg at dinner.”
“If you prefer them small, perhaps you would like a guinea-fowl’s egg?”
“Thank you! but this one is just as I like them.”
“It looks rather over-done! If you think so, we could get another in a minute!”
“No! they are better well boiled!”
“Then probably it is not enough done. Some people like them quite hard, and I could easily pop it into the slop-basin for another minute.”
“I am really obliged to you, but it could not be improved.”
[126]
“Do you not take any more salt with your egg?”
“No, I thank you!”
“A few more grains would improve it!”
“If you say so, I dare say they will.”
“Ah! now I am afraid you have put in too much! pray do get another!”
This long-continued attack upon her egg was too much for Laura’s gravity, who appeared for some minutes to have a violent fit of coughing, and ending in a burst of laughter, after which she hastily finished all that remained of it, and thus ended the discussion.
In the midst of all their happiness, while the children thought that every succeeding day had no fault but being too short, and Harry even planned with Peter to stop the clock altogether, and see whether time itself would not stand still, nobody ever thought for a moment of anything but joy; and yet a very sad and sudden distress awaited Mrs. Darwin. One forenoon she received a letter that seemed very hastily and awkwardly folded,—the seal was all to one side, and surrounded with stray drops of red wax,—the direction appeared sadly blotted, and at the top was written in large letters, the words, “To be delivered immediately.”
When Mrs. Darwin hurriedly tore open this very strange-looking letter, she found that it came from her own housekeeper in town, to announce the dreadful event that her sister, Lady Barnet, had been that day seized with an apoplectic fit, and was thought to be at the point of death, therefore it was hoped that Mrs. Darwin would not lose an hour in returning to town, that she might be present on the melancholy occasion. The shock of hearing this news was so very great, that poor Mrs. Darwin could not speak about it, but after trying to compose herself for a few minutes, she went into the play-room, and told the children that, for reasons she could not explain, they must get ready to return [127] home in an hour, when the car would be at the door for their journey.
Nothing could exceed their surprise on hearing Mrs. Darwin make such an unexpected proposal. At first Peter Grey thought she was speaking in jest, and said he would prefer if she ordered out a balloon to travel in, this morning; but when it appeared that Mrs. Darwin was really in earnest about their pleasant visit being over so soon, Harry’s face grew perfectly red with passion, while he said in a loud angry voice,
“Grandmama allowed me to stay here till Friday!—and I was invited to stay,—and I will not go anywhere else!”
“Oh fie, Master Harry!” said Mrs. Crabtree. “Do not talk so! You ought to know better! I shall soon teach you, however, to do as you are bid!”
Saying these words, she stretched out her hand to seize violent hold of him, but Harry dipped down and escaped. Quickly opening the door, he ran, half in joke and half in earnest, at full speed up two pairs of stairs, followed closely by Mrs. Crabtree, who was now in a terrible rage, especially when she saw what a piece of fun Harry thought this fatiguing race. A door happened to be standing wide open on the second landing-place, which, having been observed by Harry, he darted in, and slammed it in Mrs. Crabtree’s face, locking and double-locking it, to secure his own safety, after which he sat down in this empty apartment to enjoy his victory in peace. When people once begin to grow self-willed and rebellious, it is impossible to guess where it will all end! Harry might have been easily led to do right at first, if any one had reasoned with him and spoken kindly, but now he really was in a sort of don’t-care-a-button humour, and scarcely minded what he did next.
As long as Mrs. Crabtree continued to scold and rave behind the door, Harry grew harder and harder; but at length the good old lady, Mrs. Darwin herself, arrived up [128] stairs, and represented how ungrateful he was, not doing all in his power to please her, when she had taken so much pains to make him happy. This brought the little rebel round in a moment, as he became quite sensible of his own misconduct, and resolved immediately to submit. Accordingly, Harry tried to open the door, but, what is very easily done cannot sometimes be undone, which turned out the case on this occasion, as, with all his exertions, the key would not turn in the lock! Harry tried it first one way, then another. He twisted with his whole strength, till his face became perfectly scarlet with the effort, but in vain! At last he put the poker through the handle of the key, thinking this a very clever plan, and quite sure to succeed, but after a desperate struggle, the unfortunate key broke in two, so then nobody could possibly open the door!
After this provoking accident happened, Harry felt what a very bad boy he had been, so he burst into tears, and called through the key-hole to beg Mrs. Darwin’s pardon, while Mrs. Crabtree scolded him through the key-hole in return, till Harry shrunk away as if a cannonading had begun at his ear.
Meantime, Mrs. Darwin hurried off, racking her brains to think what had best be done to deliver the prisoner, since no time could be lost, or she might perhaps not get to town at all that night, and the car was expected every minute, to come round for the travellers. The gardener said he thought it might be possible to find a few ladders, which, being tied one above another, would perhaps reach as high as the window, where Harry had now appeared, and by which he could easily scramble down; so the servants made haste to fetch all they could find, and to borrow all they could see, till a great many were collected. These they joined together very strongly with ropes, but when it was at last reared against the wall, to the great disappointment of [129] Mrs. Darwin, the ladder appeared a yard and a-half too short!
What was to be done?
The obliging gardener mounted to the very top of his ladder, and Harry leaned so far over the window, he seemed in danger of falling out, but still they did not reach one another, so not a single person could guess what plan was to be tried next. At length Harry called out very loudly to the gardener,
“Hollo! Mr. King of Spades! If I were to let myself drop very gently down from the window, could you catch me in your arms?”
“Mr. Harry! Mr. Harry! if you dare!” cried Mrs. Crabtree, shaking her fist at him. “You’ll be broken in pieces like a tea-pot, you’ll be made as flat as a pancake! Stay where you are! Do ye hear!”
But Harry seemed suddenly grown deaf, and was now more than half out—fixing his fingers very firmly on the ledge of the window, and slowly dropping his legs downwards.
“Oh Harry! you will be killed!” screamed Laura. “Stop! stop! Harry, are you mad? can nobody stop him?”
But nobody could stop him, for, being so high above everybody’s head, Harry had it all his own way, and was now nearly hanging altogether out of the window, but he stopped a single minute, and called out, “Do not be frightened, Laura! I have behaved very ill, and deserve the worst that can happen. If I do break my head, it will save Mrs. Crabtree the trouble of breaking it for me, after I come down.”
The gardener now balanced himself steadily on the upper step of the ladder, and spread his arms out, while Harry slowly let himself drop. Laura tried to look on without screaming out, as that might have startled him, but the [130] scene became too frightful, so she closed her eyes, put her hands over her face and turned away, while her heart beat so violently, that it might almost have been heard. Even Mrs. Crabtree clasped her hands in an agony of alarm, while Mrs. Darwin put up her pocket handkerchief, and could not look on another moment. An awful pause took place, during which, a feather falling on the ground would have startled them, when suddenly a loud shout from Peter Grey and the other children, which was gaily echoed from the top of the ladder, made Laura venture to look up, and there was Harry safe in the gardener’s arms, who soon helped him down to the ground, where he immediately asked pardon of everybody for the fright he had given them.
There was no time for more than half a scold from Mrs. Crabtree, as Mrs. Darwin’s car had been waiting some time; so Harry said she might be owing him the rest, on some future occasion.
“Yes! and a hundred lashes besides!” added Peter Grey, laughing. “Pray touch him up well, Mrs. Crabtree, when you are about it. There is no law against cruelty to boys!”
This put Mrs. Crabtree into such a rage, that she followed Peter with a perfect hail-storm of angry words, till at last, for a joke, he put up Mrs. Darwin’s umbrella to screen himself, and immediately afterwards the car drove slowly off.
When uncle David heard all the adventures at Ivy Lodge, he listened most attentively to “the confessions of Master Harry Graham,” and shook his head in a most serious manner after they were concluded, saying, “I have always thought that boys are like cats, with nine lives at least! You should be hung up in a basket, Harry, as they do with unruly boys in the South Sea Islands, where such young gentlemen as you are left dangling in the air for days together without a possibility of escape!”
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“I would not care for that compared with being teazed
and worried by Mrs. Crabtree. I really wish, uncle David,
that Dr. Bell would order me never to be scolded any more!
It is very bad for me! I generally feel an odd sort of over-all-ish-ness
as soon as she begins; and I am getting too
big now, for any thing but a birch-rod like Frank. How
pleasant it is to be a grown-up man, uncle David, as you
are, sitting all day at the club with your hat on your head,
and nothing to do but look out of the window. That is what
I call happiness!”
“But once upon a time, Harry,” said Lady Harriet, “when I stopped in the carriage for your uncle David at the club, he was in the middle of such a yawn at the window, that he very nearly dislocated his jaw! it was quite alarming to see him, and he told me in a great secret, that the longest and most tiresome hours of his life are, when he has nothing particular to do.”
“Now, at this moment, I have nothing particular to do,” said Major Graham, “therefore I shall tell you a wonderful story, children, about liking to be idle or busy, and you must find out the moral for yourselves.”
“A story! a story!” cried Harry and Laura, in an ecstacy of delight, and as they each had a knee of uncle David’s, which belonged to themselves, they scrambled into their places, exclaiming, “Now let it be all about very bad boys, and giants, and fairies!”
[132]
CHAPTER IX.
UNCLE DAVID’S NONSENSICAL STORY ABOUT
GIANTS AND FAIRIES.
In the days of yore, children were not all such clever, good sensible people as they are now! Lessons were then considered rather a plague, sugar-plums were still in demand—holidays continued yet in fashion—and toys were not then made to teach mathematics, nor story-books to give instruction in chemistry and navigation. These were very strange times, and there existed at that period, a very idle, greedy, naughty boy, such as we never hear of in the present day. His papa and mama were——no matter who,——and he lived, no matter where. His name was Master No-book, and he seemed to think his eyes were made for nothing but to stare out of the windows, and his mouth for no other purpose but to eat. This young gentleman hated lessons like mustard, both of which brought tears into his eyes, and during school-hours, he sat gazing at his books, pretending to be busy, while his mind wandered away to wish impatiently for his dinner, and to consider where he could get the nicest pies, pastry, ices, and jellies, while he smacked his lips at the [133] very thoughts of them. I think he must have been first cousin to Peter Grey, but that is not perfectly certain.
Whenever Master No-book spoke, it was always to ask for something, and you might continually hear him say, in a whining tone of voice, “Papa! may I take this piece of cake? Aunt Sarah! will you give me an apple? Mama! do send me the whole of that plum-pudding!” Indeed, very frequently when he did not get permission to gormandize, this naughty glutton helped himself without leave. Even his dreams were like his waking hours, for he had often a horrible night-mare about lessons, thinking that he was smothered with Greek Lexicons, or pelted out of the school with a shower of English Grammars, while one night, he fancied himself sitting down to devour an enormous plum-cake, and that all on a sudden it became transformed into a Latin Dictionary!
One afternoon, Master No-book, having played truant all day from school, was lolling on his mama’s best sofa in the drawing-room, with his leather boots tucked up on the satin cushions, and nothing to do but to suck a few oranges, and nothing to think of but how much sugar to put upon them, when suddenly an event took place which filled him with astonishment.
A sound of soft music stole into the room, becoming louder and louder the longer he listened, till at length, in a few moments afterwards, a large hole burst open in the wall of his room, and there stepped into his presence, two magnificent fairies, just arrived from their castle in the air, to pay him a visit. They had travelled all the way on purpose to have some conversation with Master No-book, and immediately introduced themselves in a very ceremonious manner.
The fairy Do-nothing was gorgeously dressed with a wreath of flaming gas round her head, a robe of gold tissue, a necklace of rubies, and a bouquet in her hand, of glittering [134] diamonds. Her cheeks were rouged to the very eyes,—her teeth were set in gold, and her hair was of a most brilliant purple; in short, so fine and fashionable looking a fairy never was seen in a drawing-room before.
The fairy Teach-all, who followed next, was simply dressed in white muslin, with bunches of natural flowers in her light brown hair, and she carried in her hand a few neat small books, which Master No-book looked at with a shudder of aversion.
The two fairies now informed him, that they very often invited large parties of children, to spend some time at their palaces, but as they lived in quite an opposite direction, it was necessary for their young guests to choose which it would be best to visit first; therefore now they had come to inquire of Master No-book, whom he thought it would be most agreeable to accompany on the present occasion.
“In my house,” said the fairy Teach-all, speaking with a very sweet smile, and a soft, pleasing voice, “you shall be taught to find pleasure in every sort of exertion, for I delight in activity and diligence. My young friends rise at seven every morning, and amuse themselves with working in a beautiful garden of flowers,—rearing whatever fruit they wish to eat,—visiting among the poor,—associating pleasantly together,—studying the arts and sciences,—and learning to know the world in which they live, and to fulfil the purposes for which they have been brought into it. In short, all our amusements tend to some useful object, either for our own improvement or the good of others, and you will grow wiser, better, and happier every day you remain in the Palace of Knowledge.”
“But in Castle Needless where I live,” interrupted the fairy Do-nothing, rudely pushing her companion aside, with an angry contemptuous look, “we never think of exerting ourselves for anything. You may put your head in your pocket, and your hands in your sides as long as you choose [135] to stay. No one is ever even asked a question, that he may be spared the trouble of answering. We lead the most fashionable life that can be imagined, for nobody speaks to anybody! Each of my visitors is quite an exclusive, and sits with his back to as many of the company as possible, in the most comfortable arm-chair that can be imagined. There, if you are only so good as to take the trouble of wishing for anything, it is yours, without even turning an eye round to look where it comes from. Dresses are provided of the most magnificent kind, which go on of themselves, without your having the smallest annoyance with either buttons or strings,—games which you can play without an effort of thought,—and dishes dressed by a French cook, smoking hot and hot under your nose, from morning till night,—while any rain we have, is either made of cherry brandy, lemonade, or lavender water,—and in winter it generally snows iced-punch for an hour during the forenoon.”
Nobody need be told which fairy Master No-book preferred; and quite charmed at his own good fortune in receiving so agreeable an invitation, he eagerly gave his hand to the splendid new acquaintance, who promised him so much pleasure and ease, and gladly proceeded, in a carriage lined with velvet, stuffed with downy pillows, and drawn by milk-white swans, to that magnificent residence Castle Needless, which was lighted by a thousand windows during the day, and by a million of lamps every night.
Here Master No-book enjoyed a constant holiday and a constant feast, while a beautiful lady, covered with jewels, was ready to tell him stories from morning till night, and servants waited to pick up his playthings if they fell, or to draw out his purse or his pocket-handkerchief when he wished to use them.
Thus Master No-book lay dozing for hours and days on rich embroidered cushions, never stirring from his place, but admiring the view of trees covered with the richest [136] burned almonds, grottoes of sugar-candy, a jet d’eau of champagne, a wide sea which tasted of sugar instead of salt, and a bright clear pond, filled with gold-fish, that let themselves be caught whenever he pleased. Nothing could be more complete, and yet, very strange to say, Master No-book did not seem particularly happy! This appears exceedingly unreasonable, when so much trouble was taken to please him; but the truth is, that every day he became more fretful and peevish. No sweetmeats were worth the trouble of eating, nothing was pleasant to play at, and in the end he wished it were possible to sleep all day, as well as all night.
Not a hundred miles from the fairy Do-nothing’s palace, there lived a most cruel monster called the giant Snap-’em-up, who looked, when he stood up, like the tall steeple of a great church, raising his head so high, that he could peep over the loftiest mountains, and was obliged to climb up a ladder to comb his own hair.
Every morning regularly, this prodigiously great giant walked round the world before breakfast for an appetite, after which, he made tea in a large lake, used the sea as a slop-basin, and boiled his kettle on Mount Vesuvius. He lived in great style, and his dinners were most magnificent, consisting very often of an elephant roasted whole, ostrich patties, a tiger smothered in onions, stewed lions, and whale soup; but for a side-dish his greatest favourite consisted of little boys, as fat as possible, fried in crumbs of bread, with plenty of pepper and salt.
No children were so well fed, or in such good condition for eating, as those in the fairy Do-nothing’s garden, who was a very particular friend of the great Snap-’em-up’s, and who sometimes laughingly said she would give him a license, and call her own garden his “preserve,” because she allowed him to help himself, whenever he pleased, to as many of her visitors as he chose, without taking the [137] trouble even to count them, and in return for such extreme civility, the giant very frequently invited her to dinner.
Snap-’em-up’s favourite sport was, to see how many brace of little boys he could bag in a morning; so in passing along the streets, he peeped into all the drawing-rooms without having occasion to get upon tiptoe, and picked up every young gentleman who was idly looking out of the windows, and even a few occasionally who were playing truant from school, but busy children seemed always somehow quite out of his reach.
One day, when Master No-book felt even more lazy, more idle, and more miserable than ever, he lay beside a perfect mountain of toys and cakes, wondering what to wish for next, and hating the very sight of everything and everybody. At last he gave so loud a yawn of weariness and disgust, that his jaw very nearly fell out of joint, and then he sighed so deeply, that the giant Snap-’em-up heard the sound as he passed along the road after breakfast, and instantly stepped into the garden, with his glass at his eye, to see what was the matter. Immediately on observing a large, fat, over-grown boy, as round as a dumpling, lying on a bed of roses, he gave a cry of delight, followed by a gigantic peal of laughter, which was heard three miles off, and picking up Master No-book between his finger and his thumb, with a pinch that very nearly broke his ribs, he carried him rapidly towards his own castle, while the fairy Do-nothing laughingly shook her head as he passed, saying, “That little man does me great credit!—he has only been fed for a week, and is as fat already as a prize ox! What a dainty morsel he will be! When do you dine to-day, in case I should have time to look in upon you?”
On reaching home, the giant immediately hung up Master No-book by the hair of his head, on a prodigious hook in the larder, having first taken some large lumps of nasty suet, forcing them down his throat to make him become [138] still fatter, and then stirring the fire, that he might be almost melted with heat, to make his liver grow larger. On a shelf quite near, Master No-book perceived the dead bodies of six other boys, whom he remembered to have seen fattening in the fairy Do-nothing’s garden, while he recollected how some of them had rejoiced at the thoughts of leading a long, useless, idle life, with no one to please but themselves.
The enormous cook now seized hold of Master No-book, brandishing her knife, with an aspect of horrible determination, intending to kill him, while he took the trouble of screaming and kicking in the most desperate manner, when the giant turned gravely round and said, that as pigs were considered a much greater dainty when whipped to death than killed in any other way, he meant to see whether children might not be improved by it also; therefore she might leave that great hog of a boy till he had time to try the experiment, especially as his own appetite would be improved by the exercise. This was a dreadful prospect for the unhappy prisoner; but meantime it prolonged his life a few hours, as he was immediately hung up again in the larder, and left to himself. There, in torture of mind and body,—like a fish upon a hook,—the wretched boy began at last to reflect seriously upon his former ways, and to consider what a happy home he might have had, if he could only have been satisfied with business and pleasure succeeding each other, like day and night, while lessons might have come in, as a pleasant sauce to his play-hours, and his play-hours as a sauce to his lessons.
In the midst of many reflections, which were all very sensible, though rather too late. Master No-book’s attention became attracted by the sound of many voices laughing, talking, and singing, which caused him to turn his eyes in a new direction, when, for the first time, he observed that the fairy Teach-all’s garden lay upon a beautiful sloping [139] bank not far off. There a crowd of merry, noisy, rosy-cheeked boys, were busily employed, and seemed happier than the day was long; while poor Master No-book watched them during his own miserable hours, envying the enjoyment with which they raked the flower-borders, gathered the fruit, carried baskets of vegetables to the poor, worked with carpenters’ tools, drew pictures, shot with bows and arrows, played at cricket, and then sat in the sunny arbours learning their tasks, or talking agreeably together, till at length, a dinner-bell having been rung, the whole party sat merrily down with hearty appetites, and cheerful good-humour, to an entertainment of plain roast meat and pudding, where the fairy Teach-all presided herself, and helped her guests moderately, to as much as was good for each.
Large tears rolled down the cheeks of Master No-book while watching this scene; and remembering that if he had known what was best for him, he might have been as happy as the happiest of these excellent boys, instead of suffering ennui and weariness, as he had done at the fairy Do-nothing’s, ending in a miserable death; but his attention was soon after most alarmingly roused by hearing the giant Snap-’em-up again in conversation with his cook, who said, that if he wished for a good large dish of scolloped children at dinner, it would be necessary to catch a few more, as those he had already provided would scarcely be a mouthful.
As the giant kept very fashionable hours, and always waited dinner for himself till nine o’clock, there was still plenty of time; so, with a loud grumble about the trouble, he seized a large basket in his hand, and set off at a rapid pace towards the fairy Teach-all’s garden. It was very seldom that Snap-’em-up ventured to think of foraging in this direction, as he had never once succeeded in carrying off a single captive from the enclosure, it was so well fortified and so bravely defended; but on this occasion, [140] being desperately hungry, he felt as bold as a lion, and walked, with outstretched hands, straight towards the fairy Teach-all’s dinner-table, taking such prodigious strides, that he seemed almost as if he would trample on himself.
A cry of consternation arose the instant this tremendous giant appeared; and as usual on such occasions, when he had made the same attempt before, a dreadful battle took place. Fifty active little boys bravely flew upon the enemy, armed with their dinner knives, and looked like a nest of hornets, stinging him in every direction, till he roared with pain, and would have run away, but the fairy Teach-all, seeing his intention, rushed forward with the carving knife, and brandishing it high over her head, she most courageously stabbed him to the heart!
If a great mountain had fallen in the earth, it would have seemed like nothing in comparison of the giant Snap-’em-up, who crushed two or three houses to powder beneath him, and upset several fine monuments that were to have made people remembered for ever; but all this would have seemed scarcely worth mentioning, had it not been for a still greater event which occurred on the occasion, no less than the death of the fairy Do-nothing, who had been indolently looking on at this great battle, without taking the trouble to interfere, or even to care who was victorious, but, being also lazy about running away, when the giant fell, his sword came with so violent a stroke on her head, that she instantly expired.
Thus, luckily for the whole world, the fairy Teach-all got possession of immense property, which she proceeded without delay to make the best use of in her power.
In the first place, however, she lost no time in liberating Master No-book from his hook in the larder, and gave him a lecture on activity, moderation, and good conduct, which he never afterwards forgot; and it was astonishing to see the change that took place immediately in his whole thoughts [141] and actions. From this very hour, Master No-book became the most diligent, active, happy boy in the fairy Teach-all’s garden; and on returning home a month afterwards, he astonished all the masters at school by his extraordinary reformation. The most difficult lessons were a pleasure to him,—he scarcely ever stirred without a book in his hand,—never lay on a sofa again,—would scarcely even sit on a chair with a back to it, but preferred a three-legged stool,—detested holidays,—never thought any exertion a trouble,—preferred climbing over the top of a hill to creeping round the bottom,—always ate the plainest food in very small quantities,—joined a Temperance Society!-and never tasted a morsel till he had worked very hard and got an appetite.
Not long after this, an old uncle, who had formerly been ashamed of Master No-book’s indolence and gluttony, became so pleased at the wonderful change, that, on his death, he left him a magnificent estate, desiring that he should take his name; therefore, instead of being any longer one of the No-book family, he is now called Sir Timothy Bluestocking,—a pattern to the whole country round, for the good he does to every one, and especially for his extraordinary activity, appearing as if he could do twenty things at once. Though generally very good-natured and agreeable, Sir Timothy is occasionally observed in a violent passion, laying about him with his walking-stick in the most terrific manner, and beating little boys within an inch of their lives; but on inquiry, it invariably appears that he has found them out to be lazy, idle, or greedy, for all the industrious boys in the parish are sent to get employment from him, while he assures them that they are far happier breaking stones on the road, than if they were sitting idly in a drawing-room with nothing to do. Sir Timothy cares very little for poetry in general; but the following are his favourite verses, which he has placed over the chimney-piece at a [142] school that he built for the poor, and every scholar is obliged, the very day he begins his education, to learn them:—