Uncle Titus and His Visit to the Country Part 5

Aunt Ninette's voice was querulous and excited. To be sure, Dora had crept down again to peer through her opening in the hedge, and she was now listening as if enchanted, to Lili's gay music. She came back at once at the sound of her aunt's voice, and took her appointed place at the window where she was to sit and sew all day.

"Well, we cannot stay here, that is certain," said Mrs. Ehrenreich as she left the room.

The tears started to Dora's eyes at these words. She did so long to remain here, where she could hear and partly see now and then, the merry healthy life of these children in the beautiful garden beyond the hedge. It was her only knowledge of true child-life. As she sewed, she was planning and puzzling her brain with plans for prolonging their stay, but could think of nothing that seemed likely to be of use.

It was now eleven o'clock. Rolf came scampering home from his recitations, and catching sight of his mother through the open door of the kitchen, he ran to her, calling out before he reached the threshold, "Mamma, mamma, now guess. My first--"

"My dear Rolf" interrupted his mother, "I beg of you to find some one else to guess. I have not time now, truly. Go find Paula, she has just gone into the sitting-room."

Rolf obeyed.

"Paula," he called out, "My first--"

"No, Rolf, please, not just now, I am looking for my blank-book to write my French translation in. There is Miss Hanenwinkel, she is good at guessing, ask her."

"Miss Hanenwinkel," cried poor Rolf, pouncing upon her, "My first--"

"Not a moment, not a second, Rolf," said the governess hastily. "There is Mr. Julius over there in the corner, letting the little one crack nuts for him. He is not busy; I am. Good-bye, I'll see you again."

Miss Hanenwinkel had been in England, and had taken a great fancy to this form of expression much in vogue there, and she constantly used it as a form of farewell, whether it was apropos or not. Thus she would say to the persistent scissors-grinder, who came to the door,

"Have you come back so soon? Do go where you are wanted if there is any such place. Good-bye. I'll see you again," and shut the door with a slam.

Or to the traveling agent who brought his wares to show, if asked to dismiss him, she would say,

"We want nothing; you know very well. Don't come here again. Good-bye.

I'll see you again," and shut the door in his face. This was a peculiarity of Miss Hanenwinkel.

Julius was quietly seated in a corner of the sitting-room, while Hunne stood before him watching with grave attention his nut-cracker's desperate grimaces as he gave him nut after nut to crack in his powerful jaws. Hunne carefully divided each kernel, giving one half to Jule, while he popped the other into his own little mouth.

Rolf approached them, repeating his question, "Will you guess, Jule? You are not busy."

"My first in France, applaudingly The people to the actors cry: With steady aim full in the eye, To hit my second you must try; My whole's a prince of prowess high, Who fought the fight for Germany."

"That is Bismarck, of course," said the quick-witted lad.

"O, O, how quickly you guessed it," said Rolf, quite taken aback.

"Now it is my turn; pay attention. You must try hard for this now. I have just made it up." And Jule declaimed with emphasis:

"My first transforms the night, And puts its peace to flight.

My second should you now become, You scarce will move, for fife or drum.

My whole hath power to soothe you all, Be your delight in church, or camp, or ball."

"That is hard," said Rolf, who was rather a slow thinker. "Wait a moment, Jule, I shall get it soon." So Rolf sat down on an ottoman to think it over at his ease.

The big Jule and the little Hunne in the mean time pursued their occupation without interruption. As an extra proof of his skill, Julius practised with the sh.e.l.ls at hitting different objects in the room, to his little brother's delight and admiration.

"I have it," cried Rolf at last, much delighted. "It is Cat-nip!"

"O, O, what a guess! what are you thinking of? It is something very different, entirely different. It is music. Mew--sick--music, don't you see?"

"Oh, yes," said Rolf rather abashed. "Now wait Jule, here's another. What is this?"

"My first sings by the water side, My next is Heidelberg's great pride, My whole was a blind poet, who In England lived and suffered too."

"Shakspere," said Julius, whose pride it was to answer instantly.

"Wrong," cried Rolf, delighted. "How could a _shake_ sing by the water side, Jule?"

"Oh, I supposed you meant a shake in somebody's voice, as he was riding or driving along," said Jule, to justify himself. "Now what are you laughing at?"

"Because you have made such a wrong guess. It is some one 'very different, entirely different,' Jule. It is Milton, the blind poet Milton. Now try another because you failed in this. My first"--

"No, no, I must beg for a rest. It is too much brain work for vacation. I am going now to see how Castor is after my ride this morning." And Julius dashed off to the stable.

"Oh, what a shame!" cried Rolf, "what a pity! Now there is no one to guess, and I made four splendid charades on my way home. It is too bad that you are not old enough to guess, Hunne."

"But I can guess; I am old enough," said the little fellow rather vexed.

"Well, then try this one, try hard. Stop playing with the nuts and I will crack some more for you bye and bye. Now listen:

"My first conceals from light of day The wanderer on his final way; My second sizzling in the pan, Makes hungrier still the hungry man; My whole, bedecked in trappings gay, Goes ambling on the livelong day."

"A nutcracker," said Hunne without hesitation. Julius was his beau-ideal of all that was best, and he thought that if he imitated Jule, and answered quickly the first thing that came into his head, that was guessing.

But Rolf was angry.

"How can you be so stupid, Hunne? Just think about it a little, can a nut cover some one on his last way?"

"Why, it can cover--well--the sh.e.l.l covers it."

"Nonsense! and a nutcracker can not go ambling all day, can it, you stupid child."

"Now see, mine can," said the little boy, who did not like to be called stupid, and he tied his handkerchief round the neck of the long suffering nutcracker and dragged it after him up and down the room, lifting it up now and then at regular intervals.

"Oh well, yes, you think you're right; and I can't explain it because you don't understand anything about it. Just try to think a little; can you hear a cracker sizzling as its cooks, and will it make you hungry to hear it?"

"If I throw a cracker into the fire, won't it burn?" said the child, planting himself before Rolf and holding his nutcracker saucily before his eyes.

"Oh, there is no use talking to you," said Rolf, and was just about leaving the room, but this was not so easily done, for now Hunne was bitten with the mania for riddle-making himself.

"Stop, Rolf," he cried and grasped his brother by the jacket to hold him.

"My first is not good to drink but to eat--"

"Oh dear, well, that must be 'nutcracker' again," and Rolf ran off, wrenching himself from his tormentor's hands. But the boy followed him, crying, "Wrong, wrong! you are wrong. Try again, try again!"

Moreover, Wili and Lili came scampering in from the other side, crying out,