[92]
CHAPTER VI.
THE LONG LADDER.
One fine sultry day in the month of August, Harry and Laura stood at the breakfast-room window, wondering to see the large broken white clouds, looking like curds and whey, while the sun was in such a blaze of heat, that every thing seemed almost red hot. The street door had become blistered by the sun-beams. Jowler the dog lay basking on the pavement; the green blinds were closed at every opposite house; the few gentlemen who ventured out, were fanning themselves with their pocket handkerchiefs; the ladies were strolling lazily along, under the umbrageous shade of their green parasols; and the poor people who were accustomed in winter to sell matches for lighting a fire, now carried about gaudy paper hangings for the empty grates. Lady Harriet found the butter so melted at breakfast, that she could scarcely lift it on her knife; and uncle David complained that the sight of hot smoking tea put him in a fever, and said he wished it could be iced.
“I wonder how iced porridge would taste!” said Harry. “I put mine at the open window to cool, but that only made it seem hotter. We were talking of the gentleman [93] you mentioned yesterday, who toasted his muffins at a volcano; and certainly yours might almost be done at the drawing-room window this morning.”
“Wait till you arrive at the countries I have visited, where, as somebody remarked, the very salamanders die of heat. At Agra, which is the hottest part of India, we could scarcely write a letter, because the ink dries in the pen before you can get it to the paper. I was obliged, when our regiment was there, to lie down in the middle of the day, during several hours, actually gasping for breath; and to make up for that, we all rose at midnight. An officer of ours, who lived long in India, got up always at three in the morning, after we returned home, and walked about the streets of Portsmouth, wondering what had become of everybody.”
“I shall try not to grumble about weather any more,” said Laura. “We seem no worse off than other people.”
“Or rather we are a great deal better off! At Bermuda, where my regiment stopped on the way to America, the inhabitants are so tormented with high winds, that they build ‘hurricane houses’—low, flat rooms, where the families must retire when a storm comes on, as trees, houses, people, and cattle, are all whirled about with such violence, that not a life is safe on the island while it lasts.”
“That reminds me,” said Lady Harriet, “of a droll mistake made yesterday by the African camel, when he landed at Leith. His keepers were leading him along the high road to be made a show of in Edinburgh, at a time when the wind was particularly high; and the poor animal encountering such clouds of dust, thought this must be a simoon of the desert, and threw himself flat down, burying his nose in the ground, according to custom on those occasions. It was with great difficulty that he could at last be induced to face the danger, and proceed.”
“Quite a compliment to our dust,” observed Laura. “But really in such a hot day, the kangaroos and tigers [94] might feel perfectly at home here. Oh! how I should like to visit the Geological Gardens in London!”
“Then suppose we set off immediately!” said Major Graham, pretending to rise from his chair. “Your grandmama’s donkey-carriage holds two.”
“Ah! but you could carry the donkey-carriage more easily than it could carry you!”
“Shall I try? Well, if we go, who is to pay the turnpikes, for I remember the time, not a hundred years ago, when Harry and you both thought that paying the gates was the only expense of travelling. You asked me then how poor grandmama could afford so many shillings and sixpences.”
“We know all about every thing now though!” said Harry, nodding in a very sagacious manner. “I can tell exactly how much time it takes going by the public coach to London, and it sleeps only one night on the road.”
“Sleeps!” cried uncle David. “What! it puts on a night-cap, and goes to bed?”
“Yes! and it dines and breakfasts too, Mr. uncle David, for I heard Mrs. Crabtree say so.”
“Never name anybody, unless you wish to see her immediately,” said Major Graham, hearing a well-known tap at the door. “As sure as you mention an absent person, if he is supposed to be fifty miles off at the time, it is rather odd, but he instantly appears!”
“Then there is somebody that I shall speak about very often.”
“Who can this Mr. Somebody be?” asked uncle David, smiling. “A foolish person that spoils you both I dare say, and gives you large slices of bread and jelly like this. Hold them carefully! Now, good bye, and joy be with you.”
But it was with rather rueful faces that Harry and Laura left the room, wishing they might have remained another [95] hour to talk nonsense with uncle David, and dreading to think what new scrapes and difficulties they would get into in the nursery, which always seemed to them a place of torture and imprisonment.
Major Graham used to say that Mrs. Crabtree should always have a thermometer in her own room when she dressed, to tell her whether the weather was hot or cold, for she seemed to feel no difference, and scarcely ever made any change in her own attire, wearing always the same pink gown and scarlet shawl, which made her look like a large red flower-pot, while she was no more annoyed with the heat than a flower-pot would have been. On this very oppressive morning she took as much pains in suffocating Harry with a silk handkerchief round his neck, as if it had been Christmas, and though Laura begged hard for leave to go without one of her half-a-dozen wrappings, she might as well have asked permission to go without her head, as Mrs. Crabtree seemed perfectly deaf upon the subject.
“This day is so very cold and so very shivering,” said Harry, slyly, “that I suppose you will make Laura wear at least fifty shawls.”
“Not above twenty,” answered Mrs. Crabtree, dryly. “Give me no more of your nonsense, Master Harry! This is no business of yours! I was in the world long before you were born, and must know best; so hold your tongue. None but fools and beggars need ever be cold.”
At last Mrs. Crabtree had heaped as many clothes upon her two little victims, as she was pleased to think necessary; so she sallied forth with them, followed by Betty, and proceeded towards the country, taking the sunny side of the road, and raising clouds of dust at every step, till Harry and Laura felt as if they had been made of wax, and were melting away.
“Mrs. Crabtree!” said Harry, “did you hear uncle David’s funny story yesterday? One hot morning a [96] gentleman was watching an ant’s nest, when he observed, that every little insect, as it came out, plucked a small leaf, to hold over its head, as a parasol! I wish we could find leaves large enough for us.”
“You must go to the Botanical Gardens, where one leaf of a palm-tree was shown to grandmama, which measured fourteen feet long,” observed Laura. “How horrid these very warm countries must be, where the heat is all the year round like this!”
“You may well say that,” answered Mrs. Crabtree. “I would not go to them East Indies—no! not if I were Governess-General,—to be running away with a tiger at your back, and sleeping with real live serpents twisted round the bed-post, and scorpions under your pillow! Catch me there! I’m often quite sorry for Master Frank, to think that his ship is maybe going that way! I’m told the very rats have such a smell in that outlandish place, that if they touch the outside of a bottle with their tails, it tastes of musk ever after; and when people are sitting comfortably down, expecting to enjoy their dinner, a swarm of great ants will come, and fall, an inch thick, on all the side-dishes. I’ve no desire whatever to see foreign parts!”
“But I wish to see every country in the universe,” said Harry; “and I hope there will be a rail-road all round the world before I am grown up. Only think, Mrs. Crabtree, what fun lion-hunting must be, and catching dolphins, and riding on elephants.”
The pedestrians had now arrived at the pretty village of Corstorphine, when they were unexpectedly met by Peter Grey, who joined them without waiting to ask leave. Here the hills are so beautifully wooded, and the villas so charming, that Harry, Peter, and Laura stopped a moment, to consider what house they would like best to live in. Near one side of the road stood a large cart of hay, on the top of which were several men, forking it in at the window of a high loft, [97] which could only be entered by a long ladder that leaned against the wall. It was a busy joyous scene, and soon attracted the children’s whole attention, who were transfixed with delight, seeing how rapidly the people ran up and down, with their pitchforks in their hands, and tilted the hay from the cart into the loft, while they had many jokes and much laughter among themselves. At last their whole business was finished, and the workmen drove away for another supply, to the neighbouring fields, where they had been raking and tossing it all morning, as merry as crickets.
“What happy people!” exclaimed Harry, looking wistfully after the party, and wishing he might have scrambled into the cart beside them. “I would be a haymaker for nothing, if anybody would employ me; would not you, Peter?”
“It is very strange,” said Master Grey, “why little ladies and gentlemen seem always obliged to endure a perfectly useless walk every day, as you and Laura are doing now. You never saw animals set out to take a stroll for the good of their healths! How odd it would be to see a couple of dogs set off for a country walk!”
“Miss Laura!” said Mrs. Crabtree, “Master Harry may rest here for a minute or two with Master Peter, and let them count their fingers, while you come with Betty and me to visit a sick old aunt of mine who lives round the corner; but be sure, boys, you do not presume to wander about, or I shall punish you most severely. We are coming back in two minutes.”
Mrs. Crabtree had scarcely disappeared into a small shabby-looking cottage, before Peter turned eagerly to Harry, with a face of great joy and importance, exclaiming, “Only see how very lucky this is! The haymakers have left their long ladder, standing on purpose for us! The window of that loft is wide open, and I must climb up immediately to [98] peep in, because never, in all my life, did I see the inside of a hay-loft before!”
“Nor I!” added Harry. “Uncle David says, that all round the floor there are deep holes, called mangers, down which food is thrown for the horses, so that they can thrust their heads in, to take a bite, whenever they choose.”
“How I should hate to have my dinner hung up always before my nose in that way! Suppose the kitchen were placed above your nursery, and that Mrs. Marmalade showered down tarts and puddings, which were to remain there till you ate them, you would hate the sight of such things at last. But now, Harry, for the hay-loft.”
Peter scrambled so rapidly up the ladder, that he soon reached the top, and instantly vanished in at the window, calling eagerly for Harry to follow. “You never saw such a nice, clean, funny place as this, in all your life!—make haste!—come faster!—never mind crushing your hat or tearing your jacket,—I’ll put it all to rights. Ah! there!—that’s the thing!—walk up, gentlemen! walk up!—the grand show!—sixpence each, and children half-price!”
All this time, Harry was slowly, and with great difficulty, picking his steps up the ladder, but a most troublesome business it was! First, his foot became entangled in a rope,—then his hat got squeezed so out of shape, it looked perfectly tipsy,—next, one of his shoes nearly came off,—and afterwards he dropped his gloves; but at last he stumbled up in safety, and stood beside Peter in the loft, both laughing with delight at their own enterprize.
The quantity of hay piled up on all sides, astonished them greatly, while the nice, wide floor between, seemed larger than any drawing-room, and was certainly made on purpose for a romp. Harry rolled up a large ball of hay to throw at Peter, while he, in return, aimed at him, so they ran after each other, round and round the loft, raising such a riot, that the very “rafters dirled.”
[99]
The hay now flew about in clouds, while they jumped
over it, or crept under it, throwing handfuls about in every
direction, and observing that this was the best play-room
they had ever been in.
“How lucky that we came here!” cried Peter. “I should like to stay an hour at least!”
“Oh! two hours,—or three,—or all day,” added Harry. “But what shall we do about Mrs. Crabtree? She has not gone to settle for life with that old sick aunt, so I am afraid we must really be hurrying back, in case she may find out our expedition, and that, you know, Peter, would be dreadful!”
“Only fancy, Harry, if she sees you and me clinging to the ladder, about half way down! what a way she would be in!”
“We had better make haste,” said Harry, looking around. “What would grandmama say!—I wish we had never come up!”
At this moment, Harry was still more brought to his senses, by hearing Mrs. Crabtree’s voice, exclaiming, in loud angry accents, “Where in all the world can those troublesome boys be gone! I must tether them to a tree the next time they are left together! Why! sure! they would not venture up that long ladder in the hay-loft! If they have, they had better never come down again, for I shall shew who is master here.”
“Peter Grey would run up a ladder to the stars, if he could find one,” replied Betty. “Here are Master Harry’s gloves lying at the bottom of it. They can be gone nowhere else, for I have searched every other place. We must send the town-crier with his bell after them, if they are not found up there!”
Mrs. Crabtree now seemed fearfully angry, while Laura began to tremble with fright for Harry, who was listening overhead, and did not know very well what to do, but [100] foolishly thought it best to put off the evil hour of being punished as long as possible; so he and Peter silently crept in below a great quantity of hay, and hid themselves so cunningly, that even a thief-catcher could scarcely have discovered their den. In this dark corner, Harry had time to reflect and to feel more and more alarmed and sorry for his misconduct, so he said, in a very distressed voice, “Oh, Peter! what a pity it is ever to be naughty, for we are always found out, and always so much happier when we are good!”
“I wonder how Mrs. Crabtree will get up the long ladder?” whispered Peter, laughing. “I would give my little finger, and one of my ears, to see her and Betty scrambling along!”
Harry had to pinch Peter’s arm almost black and blue before he would be quiet; and by the time he stopped talking, Mrs. Crabtree and Betty were both standing in the hay-loft, exceedingly out of breath with climbing so unusually high, while Mrs. Crabtree very nearly fell, having stumbled over a step at the entrance.
“Why, sure! there’s nobody here!” exclaimed she, in a disappointed tone. “And what a disorderly place this is! I thought a hay-loft was always kept in such nice order, with the floor all swept! but here is a fine mess! Those two great lumps of hay in the corner look as if they were meant for people to sleep upon!”
Harry gave himself up for lost when Mrs. Crabtree noticed the place where he and Peter had buried themselves alive; but to his great relief, no suspicion seemed to have been excited, and neither of the two searchers were anxious to venture beyond the door, after having so nearly tripped upon the threshold.
“They must have been stolen by a gipsey, or perhaps fallen into a well,” said Betty, who rather liked the bustle of an accident. “I always thought Master Peter would break [101] his neck, or something of that kind. Poor thing! how distressed his papa will be!”
“Hold your tongue,” interrupted Mrs. Crabtree, angrily. “I wish people would either speak sense, or not speak at all! Did you hear a noise among the hay?”
“Rats, I dare say! or perhaps a dog!” answered Betty, turning hastily round, and hurrying down the ladder faster than she had come up. “I certainly thought something moved in yon far corner.”
“Where can that little shrimp of a boy be hid?” added Mrs. Crabtree, following. “He must have obedience knocked like a nail into his head, with a few good severe blows. I shall beat him to powder when once we catch him.”
“You may depend upon it,” persisted Betty, “that some gipsey has got the boys for the sake of their clothes. It will be a great pity, because Master Harry had on his best blue jacket and trowsers.”
No sooner was the loft cleared of these unwelcome visitors, than Harry and Peter began to recover from their panic, and jumped out of the hay, shaking themselves free from it, and skipping about in greater glee than ever.
While they played about, as they had done before, and tumbled as if they had been tumblers at Ducrow’s, poor Harry got into such spirits, that he completely forgot about the deep holes called mangers, for containing the horse’s food, till all at once, when Peter was running after him, he fell, with a loud crash, headlong into one of them! Oh! what a scream he gave!—it echoed through the stable, terrifying a whole team of horses that were feeding there, more particularly the one into whose manger he had fallen. The horse gave a tremendous start when Harry plunged down close to his nose, and not being able to run away, he put back his ears, opened his mouth, and kicked and struggled in the most frightful manner, while Harry, who could not [102] make his escape any more than the horse, shouted louder and louder for help.
Peter did all he could to assist Harry in this extraordinary predicament, but finding it impossible to be of any use, he forgot their terror of Mrs. Crabtree in his fears about Harry, and rushed to the window, calling back their two pursuers, who were walking away at a great distance. He screamed and hollooed, and waved his handkerchief, without ceasing, till at last Mrs. Crabtree heard him, and turned round, but never was anybody more astonished then she was, on seeing him there, so she scolded, stormed, and raged, up to the very foot of the ladder.
“Now, you are the besiegers, and I am the garrison!” cried Peter, when he saw Mrs. Crabtree panting and toiling in her ascent. “We must make a treaty of peace together, for I could tumble you over in a minute, by merely pushing this end a very little more to one side!”
“Do not touch it, Master Peter!” cried Mrs. Crabtree, almost afraid he was in earnest. “There is a good boy,—be quiet!”
“A good boy!!” whispered Peter to himself. “What a fright Mrs. Crabtree must be in, before she said that!”
The next moment Mrs. Crabtree snatched Harry out of the manger, and shook him with rage. She then scolded and beat him, till he was perfectly stupified with fright and misery, after which the whole party were allowed to proceed towards home, while Harry stumbled along the road, and hung down his head, wishing, fifty times over, that he and Peter Grey had never gone up
THE LONG LADDER.
[103]
CHAPTER VII.
THE MAD BULL.
One evening, when Harry and Laura came down to dessert, they were surprised to observe the two little plates usually intended for them, turned upside down, while uncle David pretended not to notice anything, though he stole a glance to see what would happen next. On lifting up these mysterious plates, what did they see lying underneath, but two letters with large red seals, one directed to “Master Harry Graham,” and the other to “Miss Laura Graham.”
“A letter for me!!” cried Harry, in a tone of delighted astonishment, while he tore open the seal, and his hand shook with impatience, so that he could hardly unfold the paper. “What can it be about! I like getting a letter very much! Is it from papa? Did the postman bring it?”
“Yes, he did,” said uncle David: “and he left a message that you must pay a hundred pounds for it to-morrow.”
[104]
“Very likely, indeed,” said Laura; “you should pay that
for telling me such a fine story; but my letter is worth more
than a hundred pounds, for it is inviting me to spend another
delightful week at Holiday House.”
“I am asked too! and not Mrs. Crabtree!” cried Harry, looking at his letter, and almost screaming out for joy, whilst he skipped about the room, rubbing his hands together, and ended by twirling Laura round and round, till they both fell prostrate on the floor.
“If that be meant as a specimen of how you intend to behave at Holiday House, we had better send your apology at once,” observed Lady Harriet, smiling. “Lord Rockville is very particular about never hearing any noise, and the slamming of a door, or even the creaking of a pair of unruly shoes, would put him distracted.”
“Yes!” added uncle David, “Holiday House is as quiet as Harry’s drum with a hole in it. If a pin drops in any part of the mansion, Lord Rockville becomes annoyed, and the very wasps scarcely dare to buz at his window so loud as at any other person’s. You will feel quite fish-out-of-water-ish, trying to be quiet and hum-drum for a whole week, so let me advise you not to go.”
“The meaning of advice always is something that one would rather wish not to do,” observed Laura, gravely. “I never in my life was advised to enjoy anything pleasant! Taking physic—or learning lessons—or staying at home, are very often advised, but never playing—or having a holiday—or amusing ourselves!”
“You know, Laura! that Harry’s little Shetland pony, Tom Thumb, in my field, is of no use at present, but kicks, and capers, and runs about all day; yet presently he will be led out fastened to a rope, and made to trot round and round in a circle, day after day, till he has no longer a will of his own,—that is education. Afterwards he shall have a bridle put in his mouth, which some little girls would be much the [105] better of also, when he shall be carefully guided ever afterwards in the best ways; and you likewise will go much more steadily for all the reining-in and whipping you have got from Mrs. Crabtree and me, which may, perhaps, make you keep in the road of duty more easily hereafter.”
“Uncle David!” said Harry, laughing, “we have read in the Arabian Nights, about people being turned into animals, but I never thought you would turn Laura into a horse! What shall we do with my little Shetland pony if I go away next week?”
“I have thought of a capital plan for making Tom Thumb useful during the whole winter! Your grandmama wants a watch-dog in the country, so we shall build him a kennel—put a chain round his neck, and get some one to teach him to bark.”
“Uncle David should be Professor of Nonsense at the University,” said Lady Harriet, smiling. “But, my dear children, if you are allowed to pay this visit at Holiday House, I hope you will endeavour to behave creditably?”
“Yes,” added Major Graham, “I understand that Lord Rockville wished to have some particularly quiet children there, for a short time, so he fixed upon Harry and Laura! Poor, mistaken Lord Rockville! But, my good friends, try not to break all his china ornaments the first day—spare a few jars and tea-cups—leave a pane of glass or two in the windows, and throw none of your marbles at the mirrors.”
“I remember hearing,” said Lady Harriet, “that when Miss Pelham was married last year, her old aunt, Mrs. Bouverie, sent for her and said, that as she could not afford to give baubles or trinkets, she would give her a very valuable piece of advice; and what do you think it was, Laura?”
“I have no idea! Do tell me.”
“Then I shall bestow it on you, as the old lady did on [106] her niece—‘Be careful of china, paper and string, for they are all very transitory possessions in this world!’”
“Very true! and most judicious!” observed Major Graham, laughing. “I certainly know several persons who must have served an apprenticeship under that good lady. Many gentlemen now, who despatch all their epistles from the club, because there the paper costs them nothing, and a number of ladies, who, for the same good reason, never write letters till they are visiting in a country house.”
Having received so many warnings and injunctions about behaving well, Harry and Laura became so quiet during the first few days at Holiday House, that they were like shadows flitting through the rooms, going almost on tiptoe, scarcely speaking above a whisper, and observing that valuable rule for children, to let themselves be seen, but not heard. Lord Rockville was quite charmed with such extreme good conduct, for they were both in especial awe of him, and thought it a great condescension if he even looked at them, he was so tall, so grand, and so grave, wearing a large powdered wig and silver spectacles, which gave him a particularly venerable appearance, though Harry was one day very near getting into disgrace upon that subject. His Lordship had a habit of always carrying two pairs of spectacles in his pocket, and often, after thrusting one pair high on his forehead, he forgot where they were, and put the others on his nose, which had such a droll appearance, that the first time Harry saw it, he felt quite taken by surprise, and burst into a fit of laughter, upon which Lord Rockville gave him such a comical look of surprise and perplexity, that Harry’s fit of laughing got worse and worse. The more people know they are wrong, and try to stop, the more convulsive it becomes, and the more difficult to look grave again, so at last, after repeated efforts to appear serious and composed, Harry started up, and in his hurry to [107] escape, very nearly slammed the door behind him, which would have given the last finish to his offences.
Both the little visitors found Lady Rockville so extremely indulgent and kind, that she seemed like another grandmama, therefore they gradually ventured to talk some of their own nonsense before her, and even to try some of their old ways, and frolicsome tricks, which she seldom found any fault with, except when Harry one day eloped with Lord Rockville’s favourite walking-stick, to be used as a fishing-rod among the minnows, with a long thread at the end for a line, and a crooked pin to represent the hook, while, on the same day, Laura privately mounted the ass that gave Lord Rockville’s ass’s milk, and rode it all round the park, while he sat at home expecting his usual refreshing tumbler. Still they both passed muster for being very tolerable children, and his Lordship was heard once to say, in a voice of great approbation, that Master and Miss Graham were so punctual at dinner, and so perfectly quiet, he really often forgot they were in the house. Indeed, Harry’s complaisance on the day after he had laughed so injudiciously about the spectacles, was quite unheard of, as he felt anxious to make up for his misconduct; and when Lord Rockville asked if he would like a fire in the play-room, as the evening was chilly, he answered very politely, “Thank you, my Lord! We are ready to think it hot or cold, just as you please!”
All this was too good to last! One morning, when Harry and Laura looked out of the window, it was a most deplorably wet day. The whole sky looked like a large grey cotton umbrella, and the clouds were so low that Harry thought he could almost have touched them. In short, as Lord Rockville remarked, “it rained cats and dogs,” so his Lordship knitted his brows, and thrust his hands into his waistcoat pockets, walking up and down the room in a perfect fume of vexation, for he was so accustomed to be [108] obeyed, that it seemed rather a hardship when even the weather contradicted his wishes. To complete his vexation, as “single misfortunes never come alone,” his valet, when carelessly drying the Morning Post at a large kitchen fire, had set it in flames, so that all the wonderful news it contained became reduced to ashes, therefore Lord Rockville might well have given notice, that, for this day at least, he had a right to be in extremely bad humour.
Lady Rockville privately recommended Harry and Laura to sit quietly down and play at cat’s cradle, which accordingly they did, and when that became no longer endurable, some dominos were produced. Thus the morning wore tediously away till about two o’clock, when suddenly the rain stopped, the sun burst forth with prodigious splendour, every leaf in the park glittered, as if it had been sprinkled with diamonds, and a hundred birds seemed singing a chorus of joy, while bees and butterflies fluttered at the windows and flew away rejoicing.
Harry was the first to observe this delightful change, and with an exclamation of delight, he sprang from his seat, pulled Laura from hers, upset the domino-table, and rushed out of the room, slamming the door with a report like twenty cannons. Away they both flew to the forest, Laura swinging her bonnet in her hand, and Harry tossing his cap in the air, while Lord Rockville watched them angrily from the drawing-room window, saying, in a tone of extreme displeasure, “That boy has a voice that might do for the town-crier! He laughs so loud, it is enough to crack every glass in the room! I wish he were condemned to pass a week in those American prisons where no one is allowed to speak. In short, he would be better anywhere than here, for I might as well live with a hammer and tongs, as with the two children together. They are more restless than the quicksilver figures from China, and I wish they were as quiet, but my only comfort is, that at any rate they [109] come home punctually to dinner at five. Nothing is so intolerable as people dropping in too late and disordering the table.”
Meantime, the woods at Holiday House rung with sounds of mirth and gaiety, while Harry scrambled up the trees like a squirrel, and swung upon the branches, gathering walnuts and crab-apples for Laura, after which they both cut their names upon the bark of Lord Rockville’s favourite beech, so that every person who passed that way must observe the large distinct letters. They were laughing and chatting over this exploit, both talking at once, as noisy and happy as possible, and expecting nothing particular to happen, when, all on a sudden, Laura turned pale, and grasped hold of Harry’s arm, saying, in a low frightened voice,
“Hush, Harry!—hush!—I hear a very strange noise. It sounds like some wild beast! What can that be?”
Harry listened as if he had ten pair of ears, and nearly cracked his eye-balls staring round him, to see what could be the matter. A curious deep growling sound might be heard at some distance, while there was the noise of something trampling heavily on the ground, and of branches breaking off the trees, as if some large creature was forcing his way through. Harry and Laura now stood like a couple of little statues, not daring to breathe, they felt so terrified! The noise grew louder and louder, while it gradually came nearer and nearer, till at length a large black bull burst into view, with his tail standing high in the air, while he tore up the ground with his horns, bellowing as loudly as he could roar, and galloping straight towards the place where they stood.
Laura’s knees tottered under her, and she instantly dropped on the ground with terror, feeling as if she would die the next minute of fright, while, as for attempting to escape, it never entered her head to think that possible. Harry felt quite differently, for he was a bold boy, not easily [110] scared out of his senses, and instantly saw that something must be done, or they would both be lost. Many selfish people would have run away alone, without caring for the safety of any one but themselves, which was not at all the case with Harry, who thought first of his poor frightened companion. “Hollo, Laura! are you hiding in a cart rut?” he exclaimed, pulling her hastily off the ground. “The bull will soon find you there! Come! come! as fast as possible! we must have a race for it yet! That terrible beast can scarcely make his way through the trees and branches, they grow so closely! Perhaps we may get on as fast as he!”
All this time, Harry was dragging Laura along, and running himself into the thickest part of the plantation; but it was very difficult to make any progress, as she had become quite faint and bewildered with fright.
“Oh, Harry!” cried she, trembling all over, “you must get on alone! I am so weak with terror, it is impossible to run a step farther.”
“Do not waste your breath with talking,” answered Harry, still pushing on at full speed. “How can you suppose I would be so shabby as to make my escape without you! No! no! we must either both be caught, or both get off!”
Laura felt so grateful to Harry when he said this, that she seemed for a moment almost to forget the bull, which was still coming furiously on behind, while she now made a desperate exertion to run faster than she had been able to do before, clearing the ground almost as rapidly as Harry could have done, though he still held her firmly by the hand, to encourage her.
The trampling noise continued, the breaking of branches, and the frightful bellowing of this dreadful animal, when at last Harry caught sight of a wooden paling, which he silently pointed out to Laura, being quite unable now to [111] speak. Having rushed forward to it, with almost frantic haste, Harry threw himself over the top, after which he helped Laura to squeeze herself through underneath, when they proceeded rather more leisurely onwards.
“That fence will puzzle Mr. Bull,” said Harry triumphantly, yet gasping for breath. “We can push through places where his great hoof could scarcely be thrust! I saw him coming along, with his heels high in the air, and his head down, like an enormous wheel-barrow.”
Scarcely had Harry spoken, before the infuriated animal advanced at full gallop towards the fence, and after running along the side a little way, he suddenly tore up the paling with his horns, as if it had been made of paper, and rushed forward more rapidly than ever.
Harry now began to fear that indeed all was over, for his strength had become nearly exhausted, when, to his great joy, he espied a large, rough stone wall, not very far off, which was as welcome a sight as land to a shipwrecked sailor.
“Run for your life, Laura!” he cried, pointing it out, to encourage her. “There is safety, if we reach it.”
On they both flew, faster than the wind, and Harry having scrambled up the wall, like a grasshopper, pulled Laura up beside him, and there they both stood at last, encamped quite beyond the reach of danger, though the enemy arrived a few minutes afterwards, pawing the air, and foaming and bellowing with disappointment.
“Laura!” said Harry, after she had a little recovered from her fright, and was walking slowly homewards, while she cast an alarmed glance frequently behind, thinking she still heard the bull in pursuit, “you see, as uncle David says, whatever danger people are in, it is foolish to be quite in despair, but we should rather think what it is best to do, and do it directly.”
“Yes, Harry! and I shall never forget that you would [112] not forsake me, but risked your own life, like a brave brother, in my defence. I should like to do as much for you another time!”
“Thank you, Laura, as much as if you had, but I hope we shall never be in such a scrape again! If Frank were here, he would put us both in mind to thank a merciful God for taking so much care of us, and bringing us safely home!”
“Yes, Harry! It is perhaps a good thing being in danger sometimes, to remind us that we cannot be safe or happy an hour without God’s care, so in our prayers to-night we must remember what has happened, and return thanks very particularly.”
It was long past five before Harry and Laura reached Holiday House, where Lord Rockville met them at the drawing-room door, looking taller, and grander, and graver than ever, while Lady Rockville rose from her sofa, and came up to them, saying, in a tone of gentle reproach,
“My dear children! you ought to return home before the dinner hour, and not keep his Lordship waiting!”
The very idea of Lord Rockville waiting dinner was too dreadful ever to have entered their heads till this minute; but Harry and Laura immediately explained how exceedingly sorry they were for what had occurred, and to show that it was their misfortune rather than their fault, they told the whole frightful story of the mad bull, to which Lady Rockville listened, as if her very hair were standing upon end, to hear of such doings. She even turned up her eyes with astonishment to think what a wonderful escape they had made; but his Lordship frowned through his spectacles, and leaned his chin upon his stick, looking, as Harry thought, very like a bear upon a pole.
“Pshaw!—nonsense!” exclaimed Lord Rockville impatiently. “The bull would have done you no harm! He is a most respectable, quiet, well-disposed animal, and [113] brought an excellent character from his last place! I never heard a complaint of him before!”
“It is curious,” observed Laura, “that all bulls are reckoned peaceable and tame, till they have tossed two or three people, and killed them!”
“I thought,” added Lord Rockville, looking very grand and contemptuous, “that Harry was grown more a man than to be so easily put to flight. When a bull, another time, threatens to toss you, seize hold of his tail,—or toss him!—or, in short, do anything rather than run away the first time an animal looks at you. This is a mere cock-and-a-bull story, to excuse your keeping me waiting almost a quarter of an hour for my dinner!—you should be made guard of a mail-coach for a month, to teach you punctuality, Master Graham.”
Lord Rockville gravely looked at his watch, while Harry luckily considered how often his grandmama had recommended him to make no answer when he was scolded, so he nearly bit off the tip of his tongue to keep it quiet, while he could not but wish, in his own mind, that my Lord himself saw how very fierce the bull had looked.
Laura felt more vexed on Harry’s account than her own, and the dinner went on as uncomfortably as possible; for even when a French cook has dressed it, if ill-humour be the sauce, any dish becomes unpalatable. Nothing was to be seen reflected on the surface of many fine silver covers, but very cross, or very melancholy faces; while Lady Rockville tried to make her own countenance look both cheerful and good-natured. She told Harry and Laura, to divert them, that old Mrs. Bouverie had once been pursued by a furious milch cow, along a lane, flanked on both sides by such very high walls, that escape seemed impossible, so the good lady, who was fat and breathless, became so desperate, that without a hope of getting off, she seized the enraged animal by the horns, and screamed in its face, till the cow herself became [114] frightened. The creature stared, stepping backwards and backwards, with increasing alarm, till at last, to the old lady’s great relief and surprise, she fairly turned her tail and ran off.
In the evening, Lord Rockville had not yet recovered his equanimity, and went out, rather in bad humour, to take his usual walk before supper. Without once remembering about Harry and the bull, he strolled a great way into the woods, marking several trees to be cut down, and admiring a fine forest which he had planted himself long ago, but without particularly considering what way he turned. It was beginning, at last, to grow very dark and gloomy, so Lord Rockville had some thoughts of returning home, when he became suddenly startled by hearing a loud roar not far off, and a moment afterwards the furious bull dashed out of a neighbouring thicket, raging and foaming, and tearing the ground with his horns, exactly as Harry had described in the morning, while poor Lord Rockville, who seldom moved faster than a very dignified walk, instantly quickened his pace, in an opposite direction, striding away faster and faster, till at last,—it must be confessed,—his Lordship ended by running!!!
In spite of all Lord Rockville’s exertions, the bull continued rapidly to gain upon him, for his Lordship, being rather corpulent and easily fatigued, stopped every now and then to gasp for breath; till at last, feeling it impossible to get on faster, though the stables were now within sight, he seized the branch of a large oak tree, which swept nearly to the ground, and contrived, with great difficulty, to scramble out of reach.
The enraged bull gazed up into the tree and bellowed with fury, when he saw Lord Rockville so judiciously perched overhead, and he remained for half-an-hour, watching to see if his Lordship would venture down again. At last the tormenting animal began leisurely eating grass under the tree, [115] but gradually he moved away, turning his back while he fed, till Lord Rockville vainly deluded himself with the hope of stealing off unobserved. Being somewhat rested and refreshed, while the enemy was looking in another direction, he descended cautiously, as if he had been going to tread upon needles and pins; but, unaccustomed to such movements, he jumped so heavily upon the ground, that the bull hearing a noise, turned round, and set up a loud furious roar, when he saw his intended victim again within reach.
Now the race began once more with redoubled agility! The odds seemed greatly in favour of the bull, and Lord Rockville thought he already felt the animal’s horns in his side, when a groom, who saw the party approaching, instantly seized a pitchfork and flew to the rescue of his master. Lord Rockville never stopped his career till he reached the stable, and ran up into a loft, from the window of which he gave the alarm and called for more assistance, when several ploughmen and stable-boys assembled, who drove the animal with great difficulty, into a stall, where he continued so ungovernable, that iron chains were put round his neck, and some days afterwards, seeing no one could manage him, Lord Rockville ordered the bull to be shot, and his carcase turned into beef for the poor of the parish, who all, consequently, rejoiced at his demise; though the meat turned out so tough, that it required their best teeth to eat it with.
Meantime, on that memorable evening of so many adventures, Harry, Laura, and Lady Rockville, wondered often what had become of his Lordship, and, at last, when supper appeared at the usual hour, his absence became still more unaccountable!
“What can be the matter?” exclaimed Lady Rockville, anxiously. “This is very odd! His Lordship is as punctual as the postman in general! especially for supper; and here is Lord Rockville’s favourite dish of sago and wine, [116] which will become uneatably cold in ten minutes, if he does not return home to enjoy it!”
Scarcely had she finished speaking, when the door opened and Lord Rockville walked majestically into the room. There was something so different from usual in his manner and appearance, however, that Harry and Laura exchanged looks of astonishment; his neckcloth was loose—his face excessively red—and his hand shook, while he breathed so hard, that he might have been heard at the porter’s lodge. Lady Rockville gazed with amazement at all she saw, and then asked what he chose for supper; but when Lord Rockville tried to speak, the words died on his lips, so he could only point in silence to the sago and wine.
“What in all the world has happened to you this evening, my Lord?” exclaimed Lady Rockville, unable to restrain her curiosity a moment longer. “I never saw you in such a way before! Your eyes are perfectly blood-shot—your dress strangely disordered—and you seem so hot and so fatigued! Tell me!—what is the matter?”
“Nothing!” answered Lord Rockville, drawing himself up, while he tried to look grander and graver than ever, though his Lordship could not help panting for breath—putting his hands to his sides—and wiping his forehead with his pocket-handkerchief in an agony of fatigue. Harry observed all this for some time, as eagerly and intently as a cat watches a bird on a tree. He saw that something extraordinary had occurred, and he began to have hopes that it really was the very thing he wished; because, seeing Lord Rockville now perfectly safe, he would not have grudged him a pretty considerable fright from his friend the bull. At last, unable any longer to control his impatience, Harry started off his chair, gazing so earnestly at Lord Rockville, that his eyes almost sprung out of their sockets, while he rubbed his hands with ecstacy, saying,
“I guess you’ve seen the bull? Oh! I am sure you did! [117] Pray tell us if you have? Did he run after you,—and did you run away?”
Lord Rockville tried more than he had ever done in his life to look grave, but it would not do. Gradually his face relaxed into a smile, till at last he burst into loud peals of laughter, joined most heartily by Harry, Laura, and Lady Rockville. Nobody recovered any gravity during the rest of that evening, for whenever they tried to think or talk quietly about anything else, Harry and Laura were sure to burst forth again upon the subject, and even after being safely stowed in their beds for the night, they both laughed themselves to sleep at the idea of Lord Rockville himself having been obliged, after all, to run away from that “most respectable, quiet, well-disposed animal,
“THE MAD BULL!”