Hollowdell Grange Part 16

As soon as they were all seated in the dining-room, Mr Inglis brought out the large mahogany box containing the microscope, with the different specimens which he had prepared for inspection, and Fred was soon astonished with the wonder which he saw, such as flies' eyes, displaying within themselves innumerable other tiny eyes, each evidently possessing its own powers of vision. Then there was down off a b.u.t.terfly's wing; the wings of flies; the wing-cases of beetles, displaying colours of the most gorgeous hues, and glittering like precious stones; tiny insects, such as seen creeping upon the opening buds of roses: and all these, with numberless other things, were displayed to the astonished boy's gaze. Most of these had been seen by Harry and Philip many times before, so that Fred had a very long inspection of the microscopical wonders, and was greatly puzzled to understand how many hundreds of times any little object could be magnified; and, on afterwards looking beside the microscope at the speck upon the gla.s.s plate, which, when he looked through the instrument, had appeared to be of the most gorgeous tints, he could scarcely believe that both objects were the same; and he kept taking his eye from the instrument to look down the side, and then, with a wondering air, back again.

And so the evening quickly pa.s.sed away, for Mr Inglis had a large collection of objects for the microscope, and, what was more, a genial way of chatting about them, imparting plenty of useful knowledge at the same time, but in so interesting a manner that the boys were never-tired of listening, and would hardly believe it when they heard at last it was bed-time.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

SUNDAY IN THE COUNTRY.

The next day being Sunday, the boys walked over to church with Mr and Mrs Inglis--to the pretty old church that looked as if it was built of ivy, so thoroughly were tower, nave, and chancel covered with the dark green leaves, which had to be kept cut back or they would have soon covered up the windows; and even then, long green shoots were dangling about in all directions, ready to take advantage of a week or two's neglect, and commence veiling the old stone mullioned windows.

This was Fred's first visit to the church, for on the first Sundays of his stay the days had been lowering, and Mr Inglis read prayers in the dining-room; and now that the lad followed his cousins out of the bright sunshine, through the old porch, and into the dim venerable-looking building, everything struck him as being so very different from what he had been accustomed to see in London. Here there were the bare whitewashed walls, with the old tablets upon them, and here and there an old rusty helmet, or a breastplate and a pair of gauntlets. Then there were the quaint old bra.s.ses of a knight or squire and his wife, with a step-like row of children by their side, and all let in the old blue slabs that paved the floor, ever which the worshippers of succeeding generations had pa.s.sed for hundreds of years since. Then, too, there was the rec.u.mbent figure of the Knight Templar lying cross-legged, with his feet resting upon a dog, or some curious heraldic beast, and carved to represent his having worn chain, armour; the old oak pulpit; the fragments of stained gla.s.s in the windows; and, above all, the quaint appearance of many of the country people, dressed as they were in their Sunday best. These were among the things that took Fred's especial attention when he first entered the old village church; but when, instead of an organ, the choir commenced singing to the accompaniment of an old clarionet, a ba.s.soon, and ba.s.s viol, Fred was completely astonished, for he had never been in a church before where there was not an imposing-looking instrument, with its large rows of gilt pipes.

However, the hymn, in spite of the bad accompaniment, was very sweetly sung, and the service beautifully read in the soft silence of that old, old church, with the thousand scents of the country floating in through the open doors and windows, like Nature's own incense entering the temple of Nature's G.o.d.

Fred sat and listened, and by degrees all that was quaint and odd seemed to fade away, and leave nothing but the solemn stillness of the place, with the calm impressive voice of the clergyman telling of the goodness and love of his Maker. Then, too, the quiet walk back, with the breeze gently waving the corn now in full ear, making shade after shade of green appear to sweep over the surface of the many acres of rank wheat.

The river, too, seemed to sparkle clearer and brighter than ever as the bright sun's rays flashed from the little Tipples. Altogether, Fred could not help, boy as he was, contrasting the bright country air and the lovely landscape with the fashionable London church in fashionable London: the hot dusty pavement--the noisy street and the oppressive choky air; and then he thought how he would like to live at Hollowdell for ever.

Boys are very quick in making their determinations, and Fred thought he was quite right in his; but he had never been down there in the winter, when the clay stuck to the boots, and the leaves had forsaken the trees; when the cold soaking rain came drenching down for day after day, and ofttimes the swollen river would be flooding the meadows. Fred had never realised the country in those times, when it was in such a state that by preference those who could stayed as much indoors as possible; but no one, to have looked at the present aspect of things, could have supposed such a change possible. Sunday in the country, in the long bright days of summer, truly is delightful, for it is only then that the young fully realise the calmness and beauty, for the cessation from sports leaves the young minds time to think a little more upon what is around them.

But I find that I am getting into too serious a strain, and my young readers will be for skipping all this portion of my story; so I must hasten to say that the calm summer evening was spent in a delightful walk down by the pleasant wood-side, where out of their reach the party could see, as it grew later, the light mists begin to curl above the river in many a graceful fold. Fred's friend, the night-jar, was out, and the nightingale in full call, while every now and then his sweet song was interrupted by the harsh "Tu--whoo--hoo--hoo--oo," of an owl somewhere in the recesses of the wood. Then the return home was made, and soon after the lads were asleep and dreaming of their botanical trip to the Camp Hill.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

STALKING ON STILTS.

"Up--up--up--up--up--hilli--hi--he--o-o-o!" shouted Harry, who was first awake the next morning. "Come, boys, botany for ever! Di-andria and Poly-andria, and ever so many more of them, will be up the Camp Hill; and then there will be monogamia, and cryptogamia, and ever so many more games, here, there, and everywhere. Come, boys, get up;" and then Harry accompanied the request with a hearty bang from his pillow, the result of which was, in the cases of both brother and cousin, a leap out of bed and a regular scuffle; then hasty dressing, and out in the garden again amongst the dew-wet flowers.

"There's old Sam, shaving away as usual," said Harry, as they reached the lawn, and saw the old man busy at work with his scythe. "I wonder what he has got to tell us; I know he'll have something, so as to get rid of us all. Ah! don't old Sara hate to have us with him."

But Sam, although he expected it, was not to be teased very much upon this morning, for Philip made a remark which completely turned the current of Harry's thoughts, and away they all started back to the yard.

d.i.c.k greeted them with rapture; but d.i.c.k was not to be let loose, and he soon showed his disgust by sharp angry barks. The old raven came slily--hop, hop, hop--behind them, to give some one a dig with his hard beak; but Fred knew his tricks now and kept him at a distance; while Philip, who was not attending, received a sharp poke right in the calf of the leg, which sent him chasing his aggressor round the yard, armed with the stump of an old birch broom; but the raven hopped upon the dog-kennel, then upon the wall, and from thence up into one of the horse-chestnut trees, and so out of reach, for when the broom was thrown at him it only crashed amongst the branches and came to the ground, while the raven burst out into a series of harsh barks, that sounded very much like a laugh of derision.

"An old beast," said Philip, for his leg was bleeding a little, the dig having gone right through his trousers. "Never mind. I'll serve him out, for I'll let d.i.c.k loose at him the next time I catch him in the stables."

Meanwhile, Harry had entered the stable and climbed up the perpendicular ladder into the loft, where the boys could hear him stumping about in the dark place, stumbling over the hay and straw trusses, and at last he shouted--

"Why, they're not here, Phil."

"Yes, they are," said the one addressed. "I put 'em there myself, up in the corner, after we had them out last time. Look again."

Harry looked again, and again, and could not find what he was in search of, and said so; and then Philip called him "Old mole's eyes," and went up himself; while Fred waited underneath the trap-door. But Master Philip had no better success than his brother, and they came to the conclusion that the stilts they were in search of were gone; so they turned to descend, when Harry caught sight of the position Fred occupied, and pointed it out to Philip; and then, making signs, and catching up an armful of hay, Philip doing the same, the result was that poor Fred was nearly smothered beneath the fragrant shower that came down upon his head.

"Oh! I'll pay you for this, Master Harry," aid Fred, freeing himself from his load, and rightly judging who was the author of the mischief.

"Mind that's a debt of honour, so look out."

Harry grinned defiance, and then hunted well through both stable and coach-house for the missing stilts, but without success.

"Why, I know where they are," said Philip all at once.

"No, you don't, old clever-shakes," said his brother.

"Well, you see if I don't tell," said Philip. "I know old Sam has hidden them because we walked all down the gravel-walk last month, before Fred came; and don't you remember it was wet, and we pretended that it was a flood, and that we were obliged to use the stilts to keep out of the water; and then Sam went and told Papa that we had made the path all full of holes with the stilts?"

"Oh! ah! I recollect," said Harry; "and I remember your going down in the puddle. But do you think Sam took them?"

"I feel sure he did," said Philip.

"Won't we serve him out then," said Harry. "Come on. Let's pretend that we know he's got them, and ask for them at once."

Now, old Sam had been all this time very methodically shaving away at his gra.s.s, and congratulating himself upon the boys keeping out of the garden; but, to his horror and disgust, he at length saw them all come bearing down upon him full rush, evidently bent upon some errand that he would consider unpleasant.

"Ha!" said Sam, stopping to wipe his scythe, and drawing his rubber out of the sheath on his back. "Ha! I know what you all wants. You wants to know how the wopses' nest is a gettin' on."

"No, we don't," said chief spokesman Harry; "but we'll go presently and see, though. We want our stilts, that you've got somewhere."

"Laws, Master Henry," said the old man, pretending to be innocent, "whatever made you think of that?"

"Come now," said Harry, "give 'em up directly, or we'll run away with your tools. Give us the stilts."

"I ain't got 'em," said the old man.

"No, but you've hid them away somewhere; so tell us directly."

"Stilts--stilts," said Sam, wonderingly; "what's stilts?"

"Why, you know well enough," said Philip; "and I know you've hid them away somewhere, because you thought we should forget them and not want them any more; so come now, Sam, tell us where they are, or we'll all begin to plague you."

"No, I weant," said Sam, throwing off all disguise. "You don't want them, and you'll only go 'brog--brog' all down the walks, making the place full of holes, and worse than when people has been down 'em in pattens. I weant tell ee, theer," said the old man, defiantly, in his broad Lincolnshire dialect.

"Yes, you will," said Harry; "now come."

"I weant," said the old man again, beginning to mow.

"Never mind," said Harry, "we'll go and have a look at the wasps' nest, and see if they are all killed, and then I know what we'll do. I say, Fred," he said loudly, "Phil and I will show you how they thin grapes."

"Oh! laws," said old Sam to himself, and bursting out into a cold perspiration, for his grapes were the greatest objects of his pride, and he used to gain prizes with them at the different horticultural shows in the district. Even Mr Inglis himself never thought of laying a profaning hand upon his own grapes, until Sam had cut them and brought them in for dessert; and now the young dogs were talking of thinning them, and the sharp-pointed scissors lay all ready; and what was worse, the key was in the door of the green-house.

"Oh dear! oh dear!" said Sam, throwing down his scythe, and hobbling off after the boys, who kept provokingly in front, and popped into the green-house just before him. "There," he said, "I'm bet out with you; come out, and I'll tell ee wheer the stilts are."

"Honour bright, Sam?" said Harry.

"Oh! ah! yes," said Sam. And then the boys coming out from beneath the pendent green bunches of grapes which hung thickly from the roof, the old man locked the door up, and seemed to breathe more freely when he had the key safely in his pocket.

"I knew he'd hid them," said Philip.

"Now, then," said Harry, "where are they?"