Holiday House Part 6

Not a moment was lost in seating themselves on the gra.s.s, 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 st.u.r.dy 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 pa.s.sed that way lately!"

"At any rate, I am not likely to be starved to death amongst you all!"

answered the impudent boy, demolishing 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 pa.s.senger."

"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, 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 hoa.r.s.e, 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 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 gra.s.s, 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 a.s.sistance, 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.

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 n.o.body 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 n.o.body 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, 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."

CHAPTER V.

THE LAST CLEAN FROCK.

"For," said she, in spite of what grandmama taught her, "I'm really remarkably fond of the water."

She splashed, and she dashed, and she turned herself round, And heartily wished herself safe on the ground.

Once upon a time Harry and Laura had got into so many sc.r.a.pes, 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 c.o.c.ked 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 pa.s.sion, 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 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 bra.s.s b.u.t.ton 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,

"Sometimes she'd lift the teapot lid To peep at what was in it, Or tilt the kettle, if you did But turn your back a minute.

In vain you told her not to touch, Her trick of meddling grew so much."

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 sc.r.a.pe, 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 sc.r.a.pes 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 pa.s.sion, 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."

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.