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?”

“Did you ever hear,” said Mr. Harwood, “that a pigeon eats its own weight of food every day? Now, I am sure, you and I know one boy in the world, Peter, who could do as much.”

“What is to be done with that prodigious cake you carried up here, Mr. Harwood?” answered Peter, casting a devouring eye upon it; “the crust seems as hard as a rhinoceros’ skin, but I dare say it is very good. One could not be sure though, without tasting it! I hope you are not going to take the trouble of carrying that heavy load back again?”

“How very polite you are become all on a sudden, Peter!” said Laura, laughing. “I should be very sorry to attempt carrying that cake to the bottom of the hill, for we would both roll down, the shortest way, together.”

“I am not over-anxious to try it either,” observed Charles Forrester, shaking his head. “Even Peter, though his mouth is constantly ajar, would find that cake rather heavy to carry, either as an inside or an outside passenger.”

“I can scarcely lift it at all!” continued Laura, when Mr. Harwood had again tied it up in the towel; “what can be done?”

“Here is the very best plan!” cried Harry, suddenly seizing the prodigious cake; and before any body could hinder him, he gave it a tremendous push off the steepest part of Arthur’s Seat, so that it rolled down like a wheel, [62] over stones and precipices, jumping and hopping along with wonderful rapidity, amidst the cheers and laughter of all the children, till at last it reached the bottom of the hill, when a general clapping of hands ensued.

“Now for a race!” cried Harry, becoming more and more eager. “The first boy or girl who reaches that cake shall have it all to himself!”

Mr. Harwood tried with all his might to stop the commotion, and called out that they must go quietly down the bank, for Harry had no right to give away the cake, or to make them break their legs and arms with racing down such a hill: but he might as well have spoken to an east wind, and asked it not to blow. The whole party dispersed, like a hive of bees that has been upset; and in a moment they were in full career after the cake.

Some of the boys tried to roll down, hoping to get on more quickly. Others endeavoured to slide, and several attempted to run, but they all fell; and many of them might have been tumblers at Sadler’s Wells, they tumbled over and over so cleverly. Peter Grey’s hat was blown away, but he did not stop to catch it. Charlie Hume lost his shoe, Robert Fordyce sprained his ancle, and every one of the girls tore her frock. It was a frightful scene; such devastation of bonnets and jackets as had never been known before; while Mr. Harwood looked like the General of a defeated army, calling till he became hoarse, and running till he was out of breath, vainly trying thus to stop the confusion, and to bring the stragglers back in better order.

Meantime, Harry and Peter were far before the rest, though Edward Ashford was following hard after them in desperate haste, as if he still hoped to overtake their steps. Suddenly, however, a loud cry of distress was heard over-head; and when Harry looked up, he saw so very alarming a sight, that he could scarcely believe his eyes, and almost screamed out himself with the fright it gave him, while he seemed to [63] forget in a moment, the race, Peter Grey, and the prodigious cake.

Laura had been very anxious not to trouble Harry with taking care of her in coming down the bank again; for she saw that during all this fun about the cake, he perfectly forgot that she was not accustomed every day to such a scramble on the hills, and would have required some help. After looking down every side of the descent, and thinking that each appeared steeper than another, while they all made her equally giddy, Laura determined to venture on a part of the hill which seemed rather less precipitous than the rest; but it completely cheated her, being the most difficult and dangerous part of Arthur’s Seat. The slope became steeper and steeper at every step; but Laura always tried to hope her path might grow better, till at last she reached a place where it was impossible to stop herself. Down she went, down! down! whether she would or not, screaming and sliding on a long slippery bank, till she reached the very edge of a dangerous precipice, which appeared higher than the side of a room. Laura then grappled hold of some stones and grass, calling loudly for help, while scarcely able to keep from falling into the deep ravine, which would probably have killed her. Her screams were echoed all over the hill, when Harry seeing her frightful situation, clambered up the bank faster than any lamplighter, and immediately flew to Laura’s assistance, who was now really hanging over the chasm, quite unable to help herself. At last he reached the place where poor Laura lay, and seized hold of her by the frock; but for some time it seemed an equal chance whether she dragged him into the hole, or he pulled her away from it. Luckily, however, by a great effort, Harry succeeded in delivering Laura, whom he placed upon a secure situation, and then, having waited patiently till she recovered from the fright, he led her carefully and kindly down to the bottom of Arthur’s Seat.

[64]
Now, all the boys had already got there, and a violent dispute was going on about which of them first reached the cake. Peter Grey had pushed down Edward Ashford, who caught hold of Robert Fordyce, and they all three rolled to the bottom together, so that nobody could tell which had won the race; while Mr. Harwood laboured in vain to convince them that the cake belonged neither to the one nor the other, being his own property.

They all laughed at Harry for being distanced, and arriving last; while Mr. Harwood watched him coming down, and was pleased to observe how carefully he attended to Laura, though still, being annoyed at the riot and confusion which Harry had occasioned, he determined to appear exceedingly angry, and put on a very terrible voice, saying,

“Hollo! young gentleman! what shall I do to you for beginning this uproar? As the old proverb says, ‘one fool makes many.’ How dare you roll my fine cake down the hill in this way, and send everybody rolling after it? Look me in the face, and say you are ashamed of yourself!”

Harry looked at Mr. Harwood—and Mr. Harwood looked at Harry. They both tried to seem very grave and serious, but somehow Harry’s eyes glittered very brightly, and two little dimples might be seen in his cheeks. Mr. Harwood also had his eye-brows gathered into a terrible frown, but still his eyes were likewise sparkling, and his mouth seemed to be pursed up in a most comical manner. After staring at each other for several minutes, both Mr. Harwood and Harry burst into a prodigious fit of laughing, and nobody could tell which began first or laughed longest.

“Master Graham! you must send a new frock to every little girl of the party, and a suit of clothes to each of the boys, for having caused theirs to be all destroyed. I really meant to punish you severely for beginning such a riot, but something has made me change my mind. In almost every moment of our lives, we either act amiably of unamiably, [65] and I observed you treat Miss Laura so kindly and properly all this morning, that I shall say not another word about

“THE PRODIGIOUS CAKE.”

[66]
CHAPTER V.
 
 
THE LAST CLEAN FROCK.

Once upon a time Harry and Laura had got into so many scrapes, that there seemed really no end to their misconduct. They generally forgot to learn any lessons—often tore their books—drew pictures on their slates, instead of calculating sums—and made the pages of their copy-books into boats; besides which, Mrs. Crabtree caught them one day, when a party of officers dined at Lady Harriet’s, with two of the captain’s sword-belts buckled round their waists, and cocked hats upon their heads, while they beat the crown of a gentleman’s hat with a walking-stick, to sound like a drum.

Still it seemed impossible to make uncle David feel sufficiently angry at them, though Mrs. Crabtree did all she could to put him in a passion, by telling the very worst; but he made fifty excuses a-minute, as if he had been the naughty person himself, instead of Harry or Laura, and above all he said that they both seemed so exceedingly penitent when he explained their delinquencies, and they were both so ready to tell upon themselves, and to take all the blame of whatever mischief might be done, that he was [67] determined to shut his eyes and say nothing, unless they did something purposely wrong.

One night, when Mrs. Crabtree had gone out, Major Graham felt quite surprised on his return home from a late dinner party, to find Laura and Harry still out of bed. They were sitting in his library when he entered, both looking so tired and miserable that he could not imagine what had happened; but Harry lost no time in confessing that he and Laura feared they had done some dreadful mischief, so they could not sleep without asking pardon, and mentioning whose fault it was, that the maids might not be unjustly blamed.

“Well, you little imps of mischief! what have I to scold you for now?” asked uncle David, not looking particularly angry. “Is it something that I shall be obliged to take the trouble of punishing you for? We ought to live in the Highlands, where there are whole forests of birch ready for use? Why are your ears like a bell-rope, Harry? because they seem made to be pulled. Now, go on with your story. What is the matter?”

“We were playing about the room, uncle David, and Laura lost her ball, so she crept under that big table which has only one large leg. There is a brass button below, so we were trying if it would come off, when all on a sudden, the table fell quite to one side, as you see it now, tumbling down those prodigious books and tin boxes on the floor! I cannot think how this fine new table could be so easily broken; but whenever we even look at anything, it seems to break!”

“Yes, Harry! You remind me of Meddlesome Matty in the nursery rhymes,

You have scarcely left my poor table a leg to stand upon! How am I ever to get it mended?”

“Perhaps the carpenter could do it to-morrow!”

“Or, perhaps uncle David could do it this moment,” said Major Graham, raising the fallen side with a sudden jerk, when Harry and Laura heard a sound under the table like the locking of a door, after which the whole affair was rectified.

“Did I ever—!” exclaimed Harry, staring with astonishment, “so we have suffered all our fright for nothing, and the table was not really broken! I shall always run to you, uncle David, when we are in a scrape, for you are sure to get us off.”

“Do not reckon too certainly on that, Master Harry; it is easier to get into one than to get out of it, any day; but I am not so seriously angry at the sort of scrapes Laura and you get into, because you would not willingly and deliberately do wrong. If any children commit a mean action, or get into a passion, or quarrel with each other, or omit saying their prayers and reading their Bibles, or tell a lie, or take what does not belong to them, then it might be seen how extremely angry I could be; but while you continue merely thoughtless and forgetful, I mean to have patience a little longer before turning into a cross old uncle with a pair of tawse.”

Harry sprung upon uncle David’s knee, quite delighted to hear him speak so very kindly, and Laura was soon installed in her usual place there also, listening to all that was said, and laughing at his jokes.

“As Mrs. Crabtree says,” continued Major Graham, “‘we cannot put an old head on young shoulders;’ and it would certainly look very odd if you could.”

[69]
So uncle David took out his pencil, and drew a funny picture of a cross old wrinkled face upon young shoulders, like Laura’s, and after they had all laughed at it together for about five minutes, he sent the children both to bed, quite merry and cheerful.

A long time elapsed afterwards without anything going wrong; and it was quite pleasant to see such learning of lessons, such attention to rules, and such obedience to Mrs. Crabtree, as went on in the nursery during several weeks. At last, one day, when Lady Harriet and Major Graham were preparing to set off on a journey, and to pay a short visit at Holiday House, Laura and Harry observed a great deal of whispering and talking in a corner of the room, but they could not exactly discover what it was all about, till Major Graham said very earnestly, “I think we might surely take Laura with us.”

“Yes,” answered Lady Harriet, “both the children have been invited, and are behaving wonderfully well of late, but Lord Rockville has such a dislike to noise, that I dare not venture to take more than one at a time. Poor Laura has a very severe cough, so she may be recovered by change of air. As for Harry, he is quite well, and therefore he can stay at home.”

Now, Harry thought it very hard that he was to be left at home, merely because he felt quite well, so he immediately wished to be very ill indeed, that he might have some chance of going to Holiday House; but then he did not exactly know how to set about it. At all events, Harry determined to catch a cold like Laura’s, without delay. He would not, for the whole world have pretended to suffer from a cough if he really had none, because uncle David had often explained that making any one believe an un-truth was the same as telling a lie; but he thought there might be no harm in really getting such a terrible cold, that nothing could possibly cure it except change of air, and a trip to [70] Holiday House with Laura. Accordingly Harry tried to remember every thing that Mrs. Crabtree had forbid him to do “for fear of catching cold.” He sprinkled water over his shirt collar in the morning before dressing, that it might be damp; he ran violently up and down stairs to put himself in a heat, after which he sat between the open window and door till he felt perfectly chilled; and when going to bed at night, he washed his hair in cold water without drying it. Still, all was in vain! Harry had formerly caught cold a hundred times when he did not want one; but now, such a thing was not to be had for love or money. Nothing seemed to give him the very slightest attempt at a cough; and when the day at last arrived for Lady Harriet to begin her journey, Harry still felt himself most provokingly well. Not so much as a finger ached, his cheeks were as blooming as roses, his voice as clear as a bell, and when uncle David accidentally said to him in the morning, “How do you do?” Harry was obliged, very much against his will, to answer, “Quite well, I thank you!”

In the meantime, Laura would have felt too happy if Harry could only have gone with her; and even as it was, being impatient for the happy day to arrive, she hurried to bed an hour earlier than usual the night before, to make the time of setting out appear nearer; and she could scarcely sleep or eat for thinking of Holiday House, and planning all that was to be done there.

“It is pleasant to see so joyous a face,” said Major Graham. “I almost envy you, Laura, for being so happy.”

“Oh! I quite envy myself! but I shall write a long letter every day to poor Harry, telling him all the news, and all my adventures.”

“Nonsense! Miss Laura! wait till you come home,” said Mrs. Crabtree. “Who do you think is going to pay postage for so many foolish letters?”

[71]
“I shall!” answered Harry. “I have got sixpence, and two pence, and a half penny, so I shall buy every one of Laura’s letters from the postman, and write her an answer immediately afterwards. She will like to hear, Mrs. Crabtree, how very kind you are going to be, when I am left by myself here. Perhaps you will play at nine pins with me, and Laura can lend you her skipping rope.”

“You might as well offer uncle David a hobby-horse,” said Frank, laughingly, throwing his satchel over his shoulders. “No, Harry! you shall belong to me now. Grandmama says you may go every day to my play-ground, where all the school-boys assemble, and you can have plenty of fun till Laura comes back. We shall jump over the moon every morning, for joy.”

Harry brightened up amazingly, thinking he had never heard such good news before, as it was a grand piece of promotion to play with real big school-boys; so he became quite reconciled to Laura’s going away for a short time without him; and when the hour came for taking leave, instead of tears being shed on either side, it would have been difficult to say, as they kissed each other and said a joyous good-bye, which face looked the most delighted.

All Laura’s clothes had been packed the night before, in a large chaise seat, which was now put into the carriage along with herself, and every thing seemed ready for departure, when Lady Harriet’s maid was suddenly taken so very ill, as to be quite unfit for travelling; therefore she was left behind, and a doctor sent for to attend her; while Lady Harriet said she would trust to the maids at Holiday House, for waiting upon herself and Laura.

It is seldom that so happy a face is seen in this world, as Laura wore during the whole journey. It perfectly sparkled and glittered with delight, while she was so constantly on a broad grin laughing, that Major Graham said [72] he feared her mouth would grow an inch wider on the occasion.

“You will tire of sitting so long idle! It is a pity we did not think of bringing a few lesson-books in the carriage to amuse you, Laura,” said the Major, slyly. “A piece of needle-work might have beguiled the way. I once knew an industrious lady who made a ball dress for herself in the carriage during a journey.”

“How very stupid of her to miss seeing all the pretty trees, and cottages, and farm-houses! I do like to watch the little curly-headed, dirty children, playing on the road, with brown faces, and hair bleached white in the sun; and the women hanging out their clothes on the hedges to dry; and the blacksmith shoeing horses, and the ducks swimming in the gutters, and the pigs thrusting their noses out of the sty, and the old women knitting stockings, and the workmen sitting on a wall to eat their dinners! It looks all so pretty, and so pleasant!”

“What a picture of rural felicity! You ought to be a poet or a painter, Laura!”

“But I believe poets always call this a miserable world: and I think it the happiest place I have ever been in, uncle David! Such fun during the holidays! I should go wild altogether, if Mrs. Crabtree were not rather cross sometimes.”

“Or very cross always,” thought Major Graham. “But here we are, Laura, near our journey’s end. Allow me to introduce you to Holiday House! Why, you are staring at it like a dog looking at a piece of cold beef! My dear girl, if you open your eyes so wide, you will never be able to shut them again!”

Holiday House was not one of those prodigious places, too grand to be pleasant, with the garden a mile off in one direction, and the farm a mile off in another, and the drawing-room a mile off from the dining-room; but it was a [73] very cheerful modern mansion, with rooms enough to hold as many people as any one could desire to see at once, all very comfortably furnished. A lively, dashing river, streamed past the windows; a small park, sprinkled with sheep, and shaded by fine trees, surrounded the house; and beyond were beautiful gardens filled with a superabundance of the gayest and sweetest common flowers. Roses, carnations, wall flowers, holly-hocks, dahlias, lilies, and violets, were assembled there in such crowds, that Laura might have plucked nosegays all day, without making any visible difference; and she was also made free of the gooseberry bushes and cherry-trees, with leave to gather, if she pleased, more than she could eat.

Every morning, Laura entered the breakfast-room with cheeks like the roses she carried, bringing little bouquets for all the ladies, which she had started out of bed early, in order to gather; and her great delight was to see them worn and admired all the forenoon, while she was complimented on the taste with which they had been selected and arranged. She filled every ornamental jar, basin, and tea-cup in the drawing-room, with groups of roses, and would have been the terror of any gardener but the one at Holiday House, who liked to see his flowers so much admired, and was not keeping up any for a horticultural show.

Laura’s chief delight, however, was in the dairy, which seemed the most beautiful thing she had ever beheld, being built of rough transparent spar, which looked exactly like crystal, and reminded her of the ice palace built by the Empress of Russia. The windows were of painted glass; the walls and shelves were of Dutch tiles, and in the centre rose a beautiful jet d’eau of clear bright water.

Laura thought it looked like something built for the fairies; but within she saw a most substantial room, the floor and tables in which were so completely covered with cheeses, that they looked like some old Mosaic pavement. Here the [74] good-natured dairy-maid showed Laura how to make cheese, and afterwards manufactured a very small one about the size of a soup plate, entirely for the young lady herself, which she promised to take home after her visit was over; and a little churn was also filled full of cream, which Laura one morning churned into butter, and breakfasted upon, after having first practised printing it into a variety of shapes. It was altered about twenty times from a swan into a cow, and from a cow into a rose, and from a rose back to a swan again, before she could be persuaded to leave off her amusement.

Laura continued to become more and more delighted with Holiday House; and she one day skipped about Lady Harriet’s room, saying, “Oh! I am too happy! I scarcely know what to do with so much happiness. How delightful it would be to stay here all my life, and never to go to bed, nor say any more lessons as long as I live!”

“What a useless, stupid girl you would soon become,” observed Lady Harriet. “Do you think, Laura, that lessons were invented for no other purpose but to torment little children?”

“No, grandmama; not exactly! They are of use also to keep us quiet.”

“Come here, little madam, and listen to me. I shall soon be very old, Laura, and not able to read my Bible, even with spectacles; for, as the Scriptures told us, in that affecting description of old age, which I read to you yesterday, ‘the keepers of the house shall tremble, and the grinders cease because they are few, and those that look out of the windows be darkened:’ what then do you think I can do, because the Bible now is my best comfort, which I shall need more and more every day, to tell me all about the eternal world where I am going, and to shew me the way.”

“Grandmama! you promised long ago to let me attend on you when you grow old and blind! I shall be very careful, [75] and very—very—very kind. I almost wish you were old and blind now, to let you feel how much I love you, and how anxious I am to be as good to you as you have always been to me. We shall read the Bible together every morning, and as often afterwards as you please.”

“Thank you, my dear child! but you must take the trouble of learning to read well, or we shall be sadly puzzled with the difficult words. A friend of mine once had nobody that could read to her when she was ill, but the maid, who bargained that she might leave out every word above one syllable long, because they were too hard for her; and you could hardly help laughing at the nonsense it sometimes made; but I hope you will manage better.”

“O certainly, grandmama! I can spell chrononhotonthologos, and all the other five-cornered words in my ‘Reading Made Easy,’ already.”

“Besides that, my dear Laura! unless you learn to look over my bills, I may be sadly cheated by servants and shop-keepers. You must positively study to find out how many cherries make five.”

“Ah! grandmama! nobody knows better than I do, that two and two make four. I shall soon be quite able to keep your accounts.”

“Very well! but you have not yet heard half the trouble I mean to give you. I am remarkably fond of music, and shall probably at last be obliged to hire every old fiddler as he passes in the street, by giving him sixpence in order to enjoy some of my favourite tunes.”

“No, grandmama! you shall hear them all from me. I can play Malbrook, and Auld Robin Grey, already; and Frank says if I practise two hours every day for ten years, I shall become a very tolerable player, fit for you and uncle David to hear, without being disagreeable.”

“Then that will be more than seven thousand hours of musical lessons which you have yet to endure, Laura! There [76] are many more things of still greater importance to learn also, if you wish to be any better than a musical snuff-box. For instance, when visitors come to see me, they are often from France or Italy; but perhaps you will not mind sitting in the room as if you were deaf and dumb, gazing at those foreigners, while they gaze at you, without understanding a syllable they say, and causing them to feel strange and uncomfortable as long as they remain in the house.”

“No! I would not for the world seem so unkind and uncivil. Pray, let me learn plenty of languages.”

“Very well! but if you study no geography, what ridiculous blunders you will be falling into! asking the Italians about their native town Madrid, and the Americans if they were born at Petersburgh. You will be fancying that travellers go by steam-boats to Moscow, and travel in a day from Paris, through Stockholm to Naples. How ashamed I should be of such mistakes!”

“And so should I, grandmama, still more than you; for it would be quite a disgrace.”

“Do you remember, Laura, your uncle David laughing, when he last went to live at Leamington, about poor Mrs. Marmalade coming up stairs to say, she did not wish to be troublesome, but should feel greatly obliged if he would call at Portsmouth occasionally to see her son Thomas. And when Captain Armylist’s regiment was ordered last winter to the village of Bathgate near this, he told me they were to march in the course of that morning, all the way to Bagdad.”

“Yes, grandmama! and Mrs. Crabtree said some weeks ago, that if her brother went to Van Dieman’s Land, she thought he would of course in passing, take a look at Jerusalem; and Frank was amused lately to hear Peter Grey maintain, that Gulliver was as great a man as Columbus, because he discovered Liliput!”

“Quite like him! for I heard Peter ask one day lately, [77] what side Bonaparte was on at the battle of Leipsic? We must include a little history I think, Laura, in our list of studies, or you will fancy that Lord Nelson fought at the battle of Blenheim, and that Henry VIII. cut off Queen Mary’s head.”

“Not quite so bad as that, grandmama! I seem to have known all about Lord Nelson and Queen Mary, ever since I was a baby in long frocks! You have shewn me, however, that it would be very foolish not to feel anxious for lessons, especially when they are to make me a fit companion for you at last.”

“Yes, Laura! and not only for me, but for many whose conversation will entertain and improve you more than any books. The most delightful accomplishment that a young person can cultivate, is that of conversing agreeably; and it is less attended to in education than any other. You cannot take a harp or piano about with you, but our minds and tongues are always portable, and accompany us wherever we go. If you wish to be loved by others, and to do good to your associates, as well as to entertain them, take every opportunity of conversing with those who are either amiable or agreeable; not only attending to their opinions, but also endeavouring to gain the habit of expressing your own thoughts with ease and fluency; and then rest assured, that if the gift of conversation be rightly exercised, it is the most desirable of all, as no teaching can have greater influence in leading people to think and act aright, than the incidental remarks of an enlightened Christian, freely and unaffectedly talking to his intimate friends.”

“Well, grandmama! the moral of all this is, that I shall become busier than any body ever was before, when we get home; but in the meantime, I may take a good dose of idleness now at Holiday House, to prepare me for settling to very hard labour afterwards,” said Laura, hastily tying [78] on her bonnet. “I wonder if I shall ever be as merry and happy again!”

Most unfortunately, all the time of Laura’s visit at Holiday House, she had been, as usual, extremely heedless, in taking no care whatever of her clothes; consequently her blue merino frock had been cruelly torn; her green silk dress became frightfully soiled; four white frocks were utterly ruined; her Swiss muslin seemed a perfect object, and her pink gingham was both torn and discoloured. Regularly every evening Lady Harriet told her to take better care, or she would be a bankrupt in frocks altogether; but whatever her grandmama said on that subject, the moment she was out of sight, it went out of mind, till another dress had shared the same deplorable fate.

At last, one morning, as soon as Laura got up, Lady Harriet gravely led her towards a large table on which all the ill-used frocks had been laid out in a row; and a most dismal sight they were! Such a collection of stains and fractures was probably never seen before! A beggar would scarcely have thanked her for her blue merino; and the green silk frock looked like the tattered cover of a worn-out umbrella.

“Laura,” said Lady Harriet, “in Switzerland a lady’s wardrobe descends to many generations; but nobody will envy your successor! One might fancy that a wild beast had torn you to pieces every day! I wonder what an old clothesman would give for your whole baggage! It is only fit for being used as rags in a paper manufactory!”

Poor Laura’s face became perfectly pink when she saw the destruction that a very short time had occasioned: and she looked from one tattered garment to another, in melancholy silence, thinking how lately they had all been fresh and beautiful; but now not a vestige of their former splendour remained. At last her grandmama broke the awful silence, by saying,

[79]
“My dear girl! I have warned you very often lately that we are not at home, where your frocks could be washed and mended as soon as they were spoiled; but without considering this you have, every day, destroyed several, so now the maid finds, on examining your drawers, that there is only one clean frock remaining!”

Laura looked gravely at the last clean frock, and wondered much what her grandmama would say next.

“I do not wish to make a prisoner of you at home during this very fine weather, yet in five minutes after leaving the house, you will, of course, become unfit to be seen, which I should very much regret, as a number of fine people are coming to dinner, whom you would like to see. The great General Courteney, and all his Aide-de-Camps, intend to be here on their way from a review, besides many officers and ladies who know your papa very well, and wish to see my little grand-daughter; but I would not on any account allow you to appear before them, looking like a perfect tatterdemalion, as you too often do. They would suppose you had been drawn backwards through a hedge! Now my plan is, that you shall wear this old pink gingham for romping all morning in the garden, and dress in your last clean frock for dinner; but remember to keep out of sight till then. Remain within the garden walls, as none of the company will be walking there, but be sure to avoid the terrace and shrubberies till you are made tidy, for I shall be both angry and mortified if your papa’s friends see you for the first time looking like rag-fair.”

Laura promised to remember her grandmama’s injunctions, and to remain invisible all morning; so off she set to the garden, singing and skipping with joy, as she ran towards her pleasant hiding-place, planning twenty ways in which the day might be delightfully spent alone. Before long she had strung a long necklace of daisies—she had put many bright leaves in a book to dry—she had made a [80] large ball of cowslips to toss in the air—she had watered the hyacinths, with a watering-pot, till they were nearly washed away—she had plucked more roses than could possibly be carried, and eat as many gooseberries and cherries as it was convenient to swallow,—but still there were several hours remaining to be enjoyed, and nothing very particular, that Laura could think of, to do.

Meantime, the miserable pink frock was torn worse than ever, and seemed to be made of nothing but holes, for every gooseberry-bush in the garden had got a share of it. Laura wished pink gingham frocks had never been invented, and wondered why nothing stronger could be made! Having become perfectly tired of the garden, she now wished herself anywhere else in the world, and thought she was no better off, confined in this way within four walls, than a canary bird in a cage.

“I should like so much to go, if it were only for five minutes, on the terrace!” said she to herself. “How much pleasanter it is than this. Grandmama did not care where I went, provided nobody saw me! I may at least take a peep to see if any one is there!”

Laura now cautiously opened the garden-door, and put her head out, intending only to look for a moment, but the moment grew longer and longer, till it stretched into ten minutes.

“What crowds of fine people are walking about on the terrace!” thought she. “It looks as gay as a fair! Who can that officer be in a red coat, and cocked hat with white feathers. Probably General Courteney paying attention to Lady Rockville. There is a lady in a blue cloak and blue flowers! how very pretty! Everybody is so exceedingly smart! and I see some little boys too! Grandmama never told me any children were coming! I wonder how old they are, and if they will play with me in the evening! It would be very amusing to venture a little nearer, and get a better glimpse of them all!”

[81]
If Laura’s wishes pointed one way and her duty pointed the other, it was a very sad thing how often she forgot to pause and consider which she ought to follow; and on this occasion, as usual, she took the naughty side of the question, and prepared to indulge her curiosity, though very anxious that nothing might happen to displease her grandmama. She observed at some distance on the terrace, a remarkably large thick holly-bush, near which the great procession of company would probably pass before long, therefore, hoping nobody could possibly see her there, she stole hastily out of the garden, and concealed herself behind it; but when children do wrong, in hopes of not being found out, they generally find themselves mistaken, as Laura soon discovered to her cost. It is very lucky, however, for the culprits, when they are detected, that they may learn never to behave so foolishly again, because the greatest misfortune that can happen to a child is, not to be found out and punished when he does wrong.

A few minutes after Laura had taken her station behind the holly-bush, crowds of ladies and officers came strolling along, so very near her hiding-place, that she saw them all distinctly, and felt excessively amused and delighted at first, to be perched like a bird in a tree watching this grand party, while nobody saw her, nor guessed that she was there. Presently, however, Laura became sadly frightened when an officer in a scarlet coat happened to look towards the holly-bush, and exclaimed, with some surprise,

“There is surely something very odd about that plant! I see large pink spots between the leaves!”

“Oh no, Captain Digby, you are quite mistaken,” answered one of the ladies, dressed in a bright yellow bonnet and green pelisse. “I see nothing particular there! only a common ugly bush of holly! I wonder you ever thought of noticing it!”

“But, Miss Perceval! there certainly is something very [82] curious behind! I would bet five to one there is!” replied Captain Digby, stepping up, close to the holly-bush, and peeping over: “What have we here! a ragged little girl, I do believe! in a pink frock!”

Poor Laura was now in a terrible scrape; she started up immediately to run away. Probably she never ran so fast in her life before, but Captain Digby was a person who enjoyed a joke, so he called out

“Tally-ho! a race for a thousand pounds!”

Off set the Captain, and away flew Laura. At any other time she would have thought it capital fun, but now she was frightened out of her wits, and tore away at the very top of her speed. The whole party of ladies and gentlemen stood laughing, and applauding, to see how fast they both cleared the ground, while Laura, seeing the garden gate still wide open, hoped she might be able to dart in, and close it, but alas! when she arrived within four steps of the threshold, feeling almost certain of escape, Captain Digby seized hold of her pink frock behind. It instantly began tearing, so she had great hopes of leaving the piece in his hand and getting off; but he was too clever for that, as he grasped hold of her long sash, which was floating far out behind, and led Laura a prisoner before the whole company.

When Lady Harriet discovered that this was really Laura advancing, her head hanging down, her hair streaming about her ears, and her face like a full moon, she could scarcely credit her own eyes, and held her hands up with astonishment, while uncle David shrugged his shoulders, till they almost met over his head, but not a word was said on either side until they got home, when Lady Harriet at last broke the awful silence by saying,

“My dear girl! you must, of course, be severely punished for this act of disobedience, and it is not so much on [83] account of feeling angry at your misconduct that I mean to correct you, but because I love you, and wish to make you behave better in future. Parents are appointed by God to govern their children as he governs us, not carelessly indulging their faults, but wisely correcting them, for we are told that our Great Father in heaven chastens those whom he loves, and only afflicts us for great and wise purposes. I have suffered many sorrows in the world, but they always made me better in the end, and whatever discipline you meet with from me, or from that Great Being who loves you still more than I do, let it teach you to consider your ways, to repent of your wilfulness, and to pray that you may be enabled to act more properly in future.”

“Yes, grandmama,” replied Laura, with tears in her eyes, “I am quite willing to be punished, for it was very wrong indeed to make you so vexed and ashamed, by disobeying your orders.”

“Then here is a long task which you must study before dinner, as a penalty for trespassing bounds. It is a beautiful poem on the death of Sir John Moore, which every school-girl can repeat, but being rather long, you will scarcely have time to learn it perfectly, before coming down to dessert, therefore, that you may be quite ready, I shall ring now for Lady Rockville’s maid, and have you washed and dressed immediately. Remember this is your last clean frock, and be sure not to spoil it.”

When Laura chose to pay attention, she could learn her lessons wonderfully fast, and her eyes seemed nailed to the book for some time after Lady Harriet went away, till at last she could repeat the whole poem perfectly well. It was neither “slowly nor sadly” that Laura “laid down” her book, after practising it all, in a sort of jig time, till she could rattle over the poem like a rail-road, and she walked to the window, still murmuring the verses to herself with prodigious [84] glee, and giving little thought to their melancholy subject.

A variety of plans suggested themselves to her mind for amusing herself within doors, as she had been forbidden to venture out, and she lost no time in executing them. First, she tried on all her grandmama’s caps at a looking-glass, none of which were improved by being crushed and tumbled in such a way. Then she quarrelled with Lady Rockville’s beautiful cockatoo, till it bit her finger violently, and after that, she teazed the old cat till it scratched her; but all these diversions were not sufficiently entertaining, so Laura began to grow rather tired, till at last she went to gaze out at the portico of Holiday House, being perfectly determined, on no account whatever, to go one single step farther.

Here Laura saw many things which entertained her extremely, for she had scarcely ever seen more of the country than was to be enjoyed with Mrs. Crabtree in Charlotte Square. The punctual crows were all returning home at their usual hour for the evening, and looked like a black shower over her head, while hundreds of them seemed trying to make a concert at once; the robins hopped close to her feet, evidently accustomed to be fed; a tame pheasant, as fat as a London alderman, came up the steps to keep her company; and the peacock, spreading his tail, and strutting about, looked the very picture of silly pride and vanity.

Laura admired and enjoyed all this extremely, and crumbled down nearly a loaf of bread, which she scattered on the ground, in order to be popular among her visitors, who took all they could get from her, and quarrelled among themselves about it, very much as boys and girls would perhaps have done in the same circumstances.

It happened at this moment, that a large flock of geese crossed the park, on their way towards the river, stalking along in a slow majestic manner, with their heads high in the air. Laura observed them at a distance, and thought [85] they were the prettiest creatures in the world, with their pure white feathers and yellow stockings, so she wondered what kind of birds these were, having never seen a goose before, except when roasted for dinner, though, indeed, she was a sad goose herself, as will very soon be told.

“How I should like to examine those large, white, beautiful birds, a little nearer,” thought Laura to herself. “I wonder if they could swim or fly!—oh! how perfect they would look, floating like water-lilies on the river, and then I might take a bit of bread to throw in, and they would all rush after it!”

Laura, as usual, did not wait to reflect what her grandmama might be likely to think; indeed it is to be feared Laura forgot at the moment that she had a grandmama at all, for her mind was never large enough to hold more than one thing at a time, and now it was entirely filled with the flock of geese. She instantly set off in pursuit of them, and began chasing the whole party across the park, making all sorts of dreadful noises, in hopes they might fly; but, on the contrary, they held up their heads, as if she had been a dancing-master, and marched slowly on, cackling loudly to each other, and evidently getting extremely angry.

Laura was now quite close to her new acquaintances, and even threw a pebble to hurry them forward, when suddenly an old gander stopped, and turned round in a terrible rage. The whole flock of geese then did the same, after which they flew towards Laura, with their bills wide open, hissing furiously, and stretching out their long necks in an angry menacing way, as if they wished to tear her in pieces.

Poor Laura became frightened out of any wits she ever had, and ran off, with all the geese after her! Anybody must have laughed into fits, could they have heard what a triumphant cackle the geese set up, and had they seen how fast she flew away. If Laura had borrowed a pair of wings [86] from her pursuers, she could scarcely have got more quickly on.

In the hurry of escaping, she always looked back to see if the enemy followed, and scarcely observed which way she ran herself, till suddenly her foot stumbled over a large stone, and she fell headlong into the river!—oh, what a scream Laura gave! it terrified even the old gander himself, and sent the whole flock of geese marching off, nearly as fast as they had come; but Laura’s cries also reached, at a great distance, the ears of somebody, who she would have been very sorry to think had heard them.

Lady Harriet, and all her friends at Holiday House, were taking a delightful walk under some fine old fir trees, on the banks of the river, admiring the beautiful scenery, while Miss Perceval was admiring nothing but her own fine pocket handkerchief, which had cost ten guineas, being worked with her name, trimmed with lace, and perfumed with eau de Cologne; and Captain Digby was admiring his own scarlet uniform, reflected in the bright clear water, and varying his employment occasionally by throwing pebbles into the stream, to see how far they would go. Suddenly, however, he stopped, with a look of surprise and alarm, saying, “What noise can that be!—a loud scream in the water!”

“Oh dear, no! it was only one of those horrid peacocks,” answered Miss Perceval, waving her fine pocket handkerchief. “They are the most disagreeable, noisy creatures in the world! If mama ever keeps one, I shall get him a singing-master, or put a muzzle on his mouth!”

“But surely there is something splashing in the river at a great distance. Do you not see that!—what can it be?”

“Nothing at all, depend upon it! I could bet the value of my pocket handkerchief, ten guineas, that it is nothing. Officers who live constantly in barracks are so unaccustomed to the country, that they seem to expect something [87] wonderful shall happen every minute! That is probably a salmon or a minnow.”

“I am determined, however, to see. If you are quite sure this is a salmon, will you promise to eat for your dinner whatever we find, provided I can catch it?”

“Certainly! unless you catch a whale! Oh! I have dropped my pocket handkerchief,—pray pick it up!”

Captain Digby did so; but without waiting to examine the pattern, he instantly ran forward, and to his own very great astonishment, saw Laura up to her knees in the river, trying to scramble out, while her face was white with terror, and her limbs trembled with cold, like a poodle dog newly washed.

“Why, here you are again!—the very same little girl that I caught in the morning,” cried he, laughing heartily, while he carefully pulled Laura towards the bank, though, by doing so, he splashed his beautiful uniform most distressingly. “We have had a complete game at bo-peep to-day, my friend! but here comes a lady who has promised to eat you up, therefore I shall have no more trouble.”

Laura would have consented to be eaten up with pleasure, rather than encounter Lady Harriet’s eye, who really did not recognize her for the first minute, as no one can suppose what a figure she appeared. The last clean frock had been covered entirely over with mud—her hair was dripping with water—and her new yellow sash might be any colour in the world. Laura felt so completely ashamed she could not look up from the ground, and so sorry she could not speak, while hot tears mingled themselves with the cold water which trickled down her face.

“What is the matter! Who is this?” cried Lady Harriet, hurrying up to the place where they stood. “Laura!! Impossible!!!”

“Let me put on a pair of spectacles, for I cannot believe my eyes without them!” said Major Graham. “Ah! sure [88] enough it is Laura, and such a looking Laura as I never saw before. You must have had a nice cold bath!”

“I have heard,” continued Lady Harriet, “that naughty people are often ducked in the water as a punishment, and in that respect I am sure Laura deserves what she has got, and a great deal more.”

“She reminds me,” observed Captain Digby, “of the Chinese bird which has no legs, so it constantly flies about from place to place, never a moment at rest.”

“Follow me, Laura,” said Lady Harriet, “that I may hear whether you have anything to say for yourself on this occasion. It is scarcely possible that there can be any excuse, but nobody should be condemned unheard.”

When Laura had been put into dry clothes, she told her whole history, and entreated Lady Harriet to hear how very perfectly she had first learned her task, before venturing to stir out of the room; upon which her grandmama consented, and amidst tears and sobs, the monody on Sir John Moore was repeated without a single mistake. Lady Rockville then came in, to entreat that, as this was the last day of the visit to Holiday House, Laura might be forgiven and permitted to appear at dessert, as all the company were anxious to see her, and particularly Captain Digby, who regretted that he had been the means at first of getting her into a scrape.

“Indeed, my dear Lady Rockville! I might perhaps have agreed to your wishes,” answered Lady Harriet, “particularly as Laura seems sincerely sorry, and did not premeditate her disobedience; but she actually has not a tolerable frock to appear in now!”

“I must lend her one of my velvet dresses to destroy next,” said Lady Rockville, smiling.

“Uncle David’s Mackintosh cloak would be the fittest thing for her to wear,” replied Lady Harriet, rising to leave the room. “Laura, you must learn a double task now! [89] Here it is! and at Lady Rockville’s request I excuse you this once; though I am sorry that, for very sufficient reasons, we cannot see you at dessert, which otherwise I should have been most happy to do.”

Laura sat down and cried during a quarter of an hour after Lady Harriet had gone to dinner. She felt sorry for having behaved ill, and sorry to have vexed her good grandmama; and sorry not to see all the fine party at dessert; and sorry to think that next day she must leave Holiday House; and sorry, last of all, to consider what Mrs. Crabtree would say when all her ruined frocks were brought home. In short, poor Laura felt perfectly overwhelmed with the greatness and variety of her griefs, and scarcely believed that any one in the world was ever more miserable than herself.

Her eyes were fixed on her task, while her thoughts were wandering fifty miles away from it, when a housemaid, who had frequently attended upon Laura during her visit, accidentally entered the room, and seemed much surprised, as well as concerned, to find the young lady in such a way, for her sobbing could be heard in the next room. It was quite a relief to see any one; so Laura told over again all the sad adventures of the day, without attempting to conceal how naughty she had been; and most attentively was her narrative listened to, till the very end.

“You see, Miss!” observed Nelly, “when people doesn’t behave well, they must expect to be punished.”

“So they should!” sobbed Laura; “and I dare say it will make me better! I would not pass such a miserable day as this again, for the world; but I deserve to be more punished than I am.”

“That’s right, Miss!” replied Nelly, pleased to see the good effect of her admonitions. “Punishment is as sure to do us good when we are naughty, as physic when we are ill. But now you’ll go down to dessert, and forget it all.”

[90]
“No! grandmama would have allowed me, and Lady Rockville and every body was so very kind about inviting me down; but my last clean frock is quite unfit to be seen, so I have none to put on. Oh, dear! what a thousand million of pities!”

“Is that all, Miss! Then dry your eyes, and I can wash the frock in ten minutes. Give it to me, and learn your lesson, so as to be ready when I come back.”

Laura sprung off her seat with joy at this proposal, and ran—or rather flew—to fetch her miserable object of a frock, which Nelly crumpled under her arm, and walked away with, in such haste that she was evidently determined to return very soon; while Laura took her good advice, and sat down to learn her task, though she could hardly look at the book during two minutes at a time—she watched so impatiently for her benefactress from the laundry.

At length the door flew open, and in walked Nelly, whose face looked as red and hot as a beefsteak; but in her hand she carried a basket, on which was laid out, in great state, the very cleanest frock that ever was seen! It perfectly smelled of soap and water, starch and hot irons, and seemed still almost smoking from the laundry; while Laura looked at it with such delight and admiration, it might have been supposed she never saw a clean frock before.

When Lady Harriet was sitting after dinner that day, sipping her wine, and thinking about no thing very particular, she became surprised to feel somebody gently twitching her sleeve to attract notice. Turning instantly round to ascertain what was the matter, and who it could be, what was her astonishment to see Laura at her elbow, looking rather shy and frightened.

“How did you get here, child!” exclaimed Lady Harriet, in accents of amazement, though almost laughing. “Am I never to see the last of you to-day! Where did you [91] get that frock! It must have dropped from the clouds! Or did some good fairy give you a new one?”

“That good fairy was Nelly the housemaid,” whispered Laura. “She first tossed my frock into a washing-tub; and then at the great kitchen fire she toasted it, and——”

“——And buttered it, I hope,” added Major Graham. “Come here, Laura! I can read what is written in your grandmama’s face at this moment; and it says, ‘you are a tiresome little puss, that nobody can keep in any order except uncle David;’ therefore sit down beside him, and eat as many almonds and raisins as he bids you.”

“You are a nice, funny uncle David!” whispered Laura, crushing her way in between his chair and Miss Perceval’s, “nobody will need a tongue now, if you can read so exactly what we are all thinking.”

“But here is Miss Perceval, still more wonderful; for she knows by the bumps on your head, all that is contained inside. Let me see if I could do so! There is a large bump of reading, and a small one of writing and arithmetic. Here is a terrible organ of breaking dolls and destroying frocks. There is a very small bump of liking uncle David, and a prodigious one of liking almonds and raisins!”

“No! you are quite mistaken! It is the largest bump for loving uncle David, and the small one for every thing else,” interrupted Laura, eagerly. “I shall draw a map of my head some day, to show you how it is all divided.”

“And leave no room for any thing naughty or foolish! Your head should be swept out, and put in order every morning, that not a single cobweb may remain in your brains. What busy brains they must be for the next ten years! But in the meantime let us hope that you will never again be reduced to your

“LAST CLEAN FROCK.”