Chapter II: Part 2

After breakfast the next morning, William and Johnny walked down to the smooth and beautiful beach with their parents, where a great many people, some of them children, were bathing. They seemed to like it very much; and it really did look very inviting, for the sun made the water sparkle like diamonds, and the waves seemed dancing and leaping, and looked as if they longed to give everybody a good splashing.

William was delighted. He could hardly wait to be undressed, he was in such a great hurry to be ducked; and when the bathing-woman took him and plunged him under the water, although he gasped for breath, he laughed, and kicked, and splashed the water, and cried, "Duck me again! duck me again!" and he looked so pleased, that some other children came to where he was, and they all had a grand frolic together.

Little Johnny laughed too, as he stood in the machine; but, when his Mother said, "Come, Johnny, now it is your turn," he made a terrible face, and cried, "Dear Mamma, please let me go home. I shall never see you again if you put me in that great big water." But his Mamma said he must go in, because it would do him a great deal of good, and she undressed him, and put him into the woman's arms.

Johnny now began to scream as loud as he could, and cried out, "Mamma, Mamma, I want to go back to you." But the old woman did not mind him a bit, and holding him by his arms, she plunged him under the water.

The poor little fellow came up gasping and panting, and sobbed out, "Oh, my dear Mamma, come and kiss me 'fore I die."

Everybody laughed--for there was no danger--except his kind Mother. A tear started to her eye, for she knew her dear little son really thought he was dying, and would never see her again. But in a little while he felt better, and, after his Mother had taken him, and had rubbed him all over and dressed him, and he had run up and down the beach with William and the other children, he felt such a nice warm glow all over him, that he forgot all about his fright.

Very soon he said, "Mamma, I am so hungry--I am as hungry as a little bear."

"That is because you have been in the water," replied his Mother.

"Are the fishes always hungry?--does the water make them hungry too?" said Johnny.

"I believe they are always ready to eat," replied his Mother; "you know that they are caught by bait. This bait is often a little worm, put upon a sharp hook. The fish snap at the bait, and the hook catches them in the mouth. Come, little hungry fish," added his Mother, "and I will give you something to eat; but I will not put it on a hook to hurt you."

The next day the little boys went into the water again, and, although Johnny made up a doleful face, he did not think he should die this time; and, when he saw the other children laughing and splashing each other, and crying, "Duck me again! what fun we are having!" he tried to like it too, and after a little while did begin to like it; for when children _try_ to overcome their foolish fears, they will almost always succeed, and be rewarded, as Johnny was, by the pleasure they enjoy, and the happiness they give to their parents.

After a few days Johnny got to be so brave, that he was the first to run down to the beach and jump into the bathing-woman's arms, and he cried louder than any, "Duck me again!" and splashed everybody that came near him; and both William and Johnny got so strong, and ate so heartily, and had such great red cheeks, that when they went home to London, a few weeks after, their friends hardly knew them, and Johnny never again had any foolish fears about going into the water.

THE MAY QUEEN.

"Mother," said Frederick Stanley, "is it not wrong to treat servants unkindly?"

"What makes you ask that question?" answered his Mother. "What can have put that into your head?"

"Nothing--I don't know," replied he, looking at his sister Kate, who was sitting near him, working a pair of slippers.

Mrs. Stanley saw that there was something on their mind, so she laid down her book, and tried to draw it out. She began,--

"What is the reason that your little Scottish friend Jessie has not been here lately? I thought that you, Kate, could not take a walk with any pleasure without her, and Fred has become quite a beau since her arrival. I am afraid you have done or said something to offend her."

"Fred," said Kate,--who was two years younger than her brother, and much smaller, and had a great respect for him,--"Fred, do you tell Mother."

Fred gave his trousers a little pull, shook the hair away from his face, half laughed, and did not speak a word; but Kate, like a real little woman, could not keep the secret a moment longer.

"We have had a quarrel, Mother; that's all."

"'A quarrel! that's all!'" said her Mother. "That's a great deal too much; but what did you find to quarrel about?"

"Why, Mother," answered Fred, getting over his bashfulness, now that the secret was out, "it was all about treating servants with kindness."

"Well done!" exclaimed his Mother. "Let us hear what you had to say upon the subject."

"I said it was a shame to abuse those who were poorer than we were; that in God's eyes all were equal. I could not bear to hear Jessie say that she had her own servant at home, and when this servant did anything to displease her, she would pinch and slap her. I told her she was a downright wicked girl!"

"Oh, shocking! shocking!" said Mrs. Stanley. "And, my sweet little Kate, did you too stand up for kindness to servants?"

"I did all I could, dear Mother," she replied, "but Fred did the most."

"Well, tell me, what else did you say?"

"I told her," said Fred, hesitating a little, "that here we said, 'if you please,' and 'thank you,' when a servant did anything for us, and that she had better go back to Scotland, and not stay another day in a place where she was deprived of the pleasure of pinching people."

"Oh, Frederick! Frederick! how could a boy of your politeness be so rude to a young lady? That was a great mistake."

Frederick looked mortified, and Kate hung her head. "But what happened after that?" asked Mrs. Stanley.

"Oh, she was so angry that she went away, and we have not seen her since. I am very sorry; but it can't be helped now."

"No," said Kate, "we can't help it now."

"But, my dear children," said their Mother, "I think you owe Jessie an apology."

"I have no objection," said Fred, after reflecting a moment, "if you think I have been so very impolite; but it will do no good."

"Well," said Mrs. Stanley, "it must be done. Perhaps I can assist you in making up the quarrel. Next Thursday, you know, is the first of May. You shall have a little party, and Jessie shall be Queen of May. That will be certain to please her."

"Jessie! Queen!" exclaimed Kate. "She will not, Mother. Jessie will not come; I am sure she will not come. I do not believe she will ever speak to us again."

"I tell you she _will_ come," said her Mother; "and she will be Queen. I will manage it for you."

"Ah, well, Mother," said Fred, looking at his sister, "you don't know Jessie as well as we do. She won't forgive us so easily."

Company now came in, and the children went to their studies. In the afternoon Mrs. Stanley sent a polite invitation to Jessie and her parents to pass the next Thursday evening at her house; and as they were sitting at the tea-table, the answer was returned.

"There," said Mrs. Stanley, "one point is gained; they will all come."

"They may come," said Frederick, "but she won't be civil to us, I know."

The next day was spent in preparing the crown, throne, and flowers, &c., and Frederick set himself to work to learn by heart some lines his Mother had written for the occasion.

Thursday evening arrived, and the children, though afraid of Jessie's cold looks, were in good spirits. Kate came into the parlour, and found Fred before a large glass, making his speech, and practising the most graceful bows and gestures.

"Goodness!" she exclaimed, "how light and beautiful the room looks! Oh, Fred, I hope we shall have a pleasant time."

The arrival of the company now interrupted them, and when nearly all had come, Mrs. Stanley told her plan with regard to Jessie; and this important matter was just settled, when that young lady and her parents entered.

Jessie, not knowing the honour awaiting her, was very stiff and grave in her salutations. Her large dark eyes were turned away from Fred and Kate, yet an expression about her pretty mouth seemed to say,--

"I am not so very angry as you think."

"She _looks_ like a Queen, does not she?" whispered Fred to his sister.

"She is stiff enough, at any rate," said Kate.

"I wonder whom she will choose for her King?" said Fred.

"I am sure I don't know," answered Kate, looking round. "I suppose the biggest boy."

"Dear me!" said Fred, "I forget that I must go out until it is time for the Address;" and he left the room, to wait his Mother's signal.

Refreshments were now handed round the room, and many a sly glance was cast upon the unconscious Jessie, who was still looking very grave, and almost cross, till, at a hint from his Mother, Fred made his appearance, and with blushing face, but firm voice, pronounced the following lines:

"O valiant knights, and ladies fair!
I'm very glad to see you here;
Your happy looks and eyes so bright,
Have quite inspired me to-night.
Though I'm unused to courtly ways,
My choice from you will meet with praise.
Our English land, so brave and free,
Where waves the flag of liberty,
Can yet, while all our hearts approve,
The Scottish stranger fondly love.
(No looks of grave distrust are seen,)
Fair Jessie! I proclaim you Queen!
And kneeling lowly at your feet,
To be your knight I do entreat.
Now deign to say, what happy one
Amongst us all shall share your throne?"

Fred rose from his knees, and awaited Jessie's reply.

Her anger was all gone, but she was so surprised that she looked down, and did not say a word.

"Well," thought Fred, "I knew she would act so. I suppose everybody is laughing at me."

"Jessie," said her Mother, "speak quickly. Whom will you have for King?"

Jessie blushed, and smiled, and whispered in a soft little voice, "Frederick."

Astonished and delighted by this kindness, Fred again knelt down, then rising, he took her little white hand, and led her in triumph, followed by all the company, to the next room, where a splendid throne had been erected. A beautiful crown of flowers was placed on Jessie's head, and gave new beauty to her soft and curling brown hair. Frederick also had a handsome crown. Sceptres were placed in their hands, and then they arranged their court. Kate was made a Duchess, at which she grew quite dignified; there were plenty of Earls and Countesses, and the sweet little maids of honour and the pages stood behind the throne.

They then formed a procession, to return to the parlour, and in an instant a march burst forth from a band of music which had been concealed for the purpose.

At this unexpected event, his Majesty jumped so high that his crown tumbled off, and the Queen was in such a delightful agitation that she could not confine her steps to a walk, and so the King and the Queen, and the Duchess, and all the maids of honour and pages, ran helter-skelter, as fast as they could, and took places for dancing.

Never were merrier hearts or brighter eyes than now leaped and shone in that little party. The Queen was the gayest of all, and the King was nearly out of his wits with joy, to find himself and Jessie once more friends. Little Kate got so tired of being a Duchess that she skipped about like a little fairy; and all the lords and ladies, and maids of honour and pages, were so merry and so full of innocent fun, that they looked a great deal more like little children. And so the happy evening concluded, to the satisfaction of all.

The next morning, Mrs. Stanley asked her children if they had had a pleasant party.

"Oh, yes!" they both answered; "it was perfectly delightful; and Jessie was as pleasant as she could be, and seemed to have forgotten all about the quarrel."

THE TOOTHACHE.

One day little Emily's Grandma said to her, "My dear child, you must go with me to-day to the dentist's, and have some of those teeth pulled out. They are growing so fast and so crooked, that you have not room enough in your mouth for them all."

"Dear Grandma," said the little girl, "will it hurt me _very_ much?"

"Yes, my dear," replied her Grandma; "it will hurt you a great deal, but you must try to bear the pain; it will not be long."

Poor little Emily sighed, and the tears stood in her eyes. She knew that her Grandmother always told her the exact truth. She knew that she would suffer a great deal of pain, because her Grandma had told her so.

It is always the best way to tell a little boy or girl the exact truth. If Emily's Grandma had said that it would not hurt her to have her teeth pulled out, it would have been very wrong, and Emily would not have believed her another time, when she was to have anything done to her.

This little girl had no Mother. Her Mother was dead, and her Grandma took care of her, and was very kind to her, and Emily loved her dearly, and so she made up her mind to go and have her teeth out, without any trouble, because her Grandma was in bad health; and she knew that if she cried and made a great fuss about it, it would trouble her, and perhaps make her ill.

Now was not this thoughtful and good in a little girl only seven years old? I hope all the little boys and girls that read this will try to be as good.

After dinner, Emily and her Grandma put on their bonnets, and went to the dentist's house. The little girl trembled when the door was opened, but she walked in without saying a word.

They went into the parlour, for there were some persons up stairs in the dentist's room, and they had to wait.

"Grandma," said Emily, "may I look at the books on the table? It will keep me from thinking about my teeth."

Her Grandma said she might, and the little girl was soon quite interested in looking at the pictures in the books, and showing them to her Grandma.

In a little while the servant came to tell her she could go up stairs. Her heart beat fast, but she went up to her Grandmother, and said, "Dear Grandma, you are not well; you look quite pale to-day. Do not go with me; I will go alone, and I promise you I will be a brave little girl."

She kissed her Grandma, and ran out of the room.

When she entered the room up stairs, she saw two ladies there. She stopped; but the dentist said, "Come in, my little girl, do not be afraid, I will be as gentle as I can."

The ladies saw that she was alone, so one of them went up to her and took her hand. She was an old lady, and wore spectacles, and she looked very kind and good. So the dear little girl let the dentist lift her into the great chair, and take off her hat, and the old lady kept hold of her hand, and said, "It will be over in a minute, my dear child," and then she pressed her little hand so kindly, that Emily felt quite comforted.

The other lady was a young lady, and she too felt sorry that Emily was to suffer. She wanted to smooth her hair, and give her a kiss; but she thought that the little girl might be afraid of so many strangers, so she sat down very quietly.

When the dentist had looked into Emily's mouth, he saw that four teeth must come out. So he got the instrument, and held her head tight with his arm.

Emily turned pale, but she kept quite still, and did not cry or scream; and the dentist pulled out the four teeth, one after the other, without a sound from her lips.

When they were all out, some large tears came from her eyes and rolled down her cheeks; but she only said, "Thank you," to the lady that held her hand; and, putting her handkerchief to her mouth, she ran down stairs.

"My darling child," said her Grandma, "how well you have behaved; I did not hear the least noise."

"No, Grandma," replied Emily, "I tried very hard not to scream; I was determined to be quite still; and a good old lady like you, Grandma, held my hand, which was a great comfort. But oh! Grandma, it _did_ hurt me most terribly."

"My dear child, I know it did," said her Grandma; "you are the best little girl in the world, and a happiness and a treasure to me."

After Emily had gone, the ladies who had witnessed her good conduct, and admired her courage, asked her name and where she lived; and one of them, the young lady, sent her a pretty little gold ring with a blue stone in it, and a little note containing these words:--

"For the dear little girl who had the courage to bear a great pain nobly."

Emily was very much pleased with this little present; it was so unexpected. She could not find out who had sent it to her.

I hope all the little boys and girls will read this story with attention, and when they go to the dentist's they will think of Emily, and try to imitate her good conduct.

THE BOYS' SCHOOL.

Not very long ago, Mr. Harrison kept a boarding-school for little boys in a delightful village in Hertfordshire. He took twenty boys to educate, and he was so kind, and had such a pleasant way of teaching, that the boys were happier with him than they would have been at home.

When the boys came in the spring, Mr. Harrison gave to each of them a little plot of ground for a garden; and the little fellows were very busy during play-hours, in preparing and arranging their gardens. They had permission to go to the gardener and get just what seeds they wanted; so some of the boys planted melons and cucumbers, and some pumpkins and radishes, and two of them made an elegant flower-garden. They put their ground together, and erected a little hill in the centre, with a path all round it, and all the borders they planted with roses, and cockscombs, and mignonette, and sweet-peas, and many other pretty flowers; and when the flowers came out, their garden gave quite a brilliant appearance to the place.

The boys had also a very large play-ground, and in it their kind teacher had had a number of gymnastic poles put up, for their healthy exercise and amusement. There was one very high pole, with four strong ropes fastened to the top of it, and an iron ring at the ends of the ropes. The boys would take hold of the rings, and run round as fast as they could; then lifting their feet off the ground, away they would fly in the air, round and round, like so many little crazy monkeys. There was one little chap that could climb up one of the ropes like a cat, and hang upon the top of the pole.

Then they had swinging-bars, and jumping-bars, with a spring-board to jump from, and wooden horses, and a climbing-pole, and several other things; but, what was better than all, they had a funny little ragged pony, and a short-legged, long-eared donkey, for their especial use, and many were the fine rides they had on their backs.

Sometimes, to be sure, the pony had a fashion of dancing a slow jig on his hind-legs, with his fore-feet in the air; but the boys were used to that, and stuck on until the dance was finished; then the pony would trot off very peaceably.

The donkey, too, had a way of putting his nose to the ground, and pitching his rider, head over heels, on the grass. But the boys were used to that too, and did not mind it in the least. They would jump up and shake themselves, and try again, and by dint of poking and punching the sides of the sulky little animal, he would after a while make up his mind to go. When he had once done _that_, it was all right. You would think he was the most amiable donkey in the world. The pony's name was "Napoleon," and the boys called the donkey "Old Pudding-head."

Twice a-week during the summer, Mr. Harrison took the boys to bathe in a fine pond, where such as could would swim, and the rest would tumble about in the water; and altogether he was so kind to them that the boys thought there never was a better teacher, or such a famous boarding-school.

I have not yet told you that they learned anything. I suppose you all think that playing was the principal thing they went to that school for. But if you do, you make a great mistake, for the greater part of every day was spent in the school-room.

Mr. Harrison made school-time very pleasant. He seldom had to punish a boy for bad conduct or neglect in getting his lessons. He always encouraged them to ask questions about their studies, and told them never to learn anything by rote, like a parrot, but to come to him when they did not understand a lesson; and he always made it so clear that it was a pleasure to learn. Sometimes a boy would ask a foolish question, which would make the rest laugh; but then Mr. Harrison would say it was better to be laughed at for trying to learn, than to grow up a dunce.

In this way the boys would improve so much, both in mind and body, that their parents left them with Mr. Harrison as long as he could keep them; and both the boys and their parents were very sorry when the time came for them to leave, for Mr. Harrison would not take any boy after he was fourteen years of age.

One afternoon after school, the boys were all busy weeding in their gardens, when one of them suddenly cried out, "Phil, do you know how long it is to the Fifth of November?"

"To be sure I do," answered Philip; "it is just four weeks and four days."

"So it is, I declare," said Thomas, the first boy who had spoken. "Boys, I'll tell you what we will do. Let us all write to our parents for an immense lot of fireworks; then we will club together, and keep all, except the crackers, for a grand display of fireworks in the evening."

"Oh yes, yes," cried all the boys, "that is an excellent idea."

"I will ask Mr. Harrison," said Phil, "to help us fix the wheels and so forth, for all I ever fixed myself stuck fast, and would not go round at all."

"I mean to write for some Roman candles," said Frank; "they look so beautiful going up. They look like planets with wings."

"_I_ will ask for some snakes and grasshoppers," said another; "it is such fun to see the boys racing round to get out of the way of them."

"We'll make some wooden pistols to put the crackers in," said another boy.

"Yes, and I will send for a little brass cannon that my uncle, Major Brown, gave me," said another.

Just then the bell rang for tea, and the boys, putting their little rakes and hoes into their tool-house, ran in to wash their faces and hands, and brush their hair. Then they took off their blouses, which they wore when at work in the garden, and hung them up in the play-room. They had a nice large play-room for playing in when the weather was unpleasant.

It was astonishing what large quantities of bread and butter, and apple-sauce, these boys consumed for their supper, for working out-of-doors in the fresh country air is sure to make people hungry, and boys especially are always ready for eating. After supper, Mr. Harrison read prayers, while all the boys knelt at their chairs around the table. Then they were permitted to play out-of-doors again until the sunset. Phil and Frank allowed themselves to be harnessed to a hand-wagon, and galloped off at full speed, with two of the smaller boys in it. The rest had a game at leap-frog; and Mr. Harrison and his family sat in the porch watching and admiring the gorgeous tints lent to the clouds by the rays of the setting sun, and sometimes laughing heartily at the capers of the boys.

At length the sun sank beneath the horizon, and Mr. Harrison said, "Come in, boys." He never had to speak more than once, for the boys were so well governed that they found it to their advantage and happiness to obey directly. So they came in as quietly as they could, and went into the study, where Mr. Harrison soon joined them, and read aloud an interesting book of travels for an hour. Then they went up stairs to bed.

One evening, not long after this, the boys were all together in the sitting-room. Philip was reading a book in which was an anecdote about a bad boy who had frightened another, by coming into his room at night, with his face apparently in a blaze, and looking, as the terrified child thought, like a flaming dragon. All at once, Phil shut the book, and said, "I say, boys, I will show you a funny thing, if you will put out the light, and it will be useful to you too. But first, let me read this story to you, and then we will try the game, and none of you little chaps will be frightened, because you will know what it is."

So saying, he read the story, which interested the boys very much indeed, and made them all eager for Philip's experiment.

Phil took a box of matches from the mantelpiece, and gave some to each of the boys; but suddenly he cried, "Wait a moment: I will be back before you can say Jack Robinson," and ran out of the room.

He went out to ask Mr. Harrison's permission to try this experiment. Mr. Harrison said, "I am glad, my dear boy, you have come first to me; I believe I can always trust you. You may try your plan, and I will go with you and join in your amusement."

The boys were glad to see their teacher. He often helped them in their plays; and they were never afraid to frolic and laugh before him.

So Phil blew out the light, and then told the boys to take a match, and wet it on the tip of the tongue, and rub it on the sides of their faces, and they would soon have a pair of fiery whiskers apiece, without its burning them in the least.

In a moment all the boys had flaming whiskers, and streaks of flame all over their faces.

Peals of laughter resounded from all sides. Such a troop of little blazing imps were never seen before. Some had noses on fire, some ears; some made fiery circles round their eyes, and some rubbed their fingers with the matches--always taking care to wet them first--and ran after the rest.

Only one person was frightened; and that was because she had not been let into the secret. This was a servant girl, who opened the door, and seeing a room full of dark figures, with faces on fire, dancing, and laughing, and capering about, she ran, screaming, up stairs, crying, "Murder! Fire! Help!" with all her might, which made the boys laugh till they were nearly suffocated. But Phil ran after her, and with much difficulty persuaded her that they were really human beings, and good friends of hers.

After they had danced about for some time, Mr. Harrison advised them to go and wash their faces, and said that they had better not play this game again, as some accident might occur: a match might get lighted and set fire to their clothes. He said he had been willing to let them try it once, for then they would not be frightened if any wicked or thoughtless person should play a trick of this kind upon them. So the boys put up the matches, and went off to bed full of the fun they had had, and saying, that if they saw a person with his nose on fire, coming into their rooms at night, they would take hold of it, and give it a good pinching.

During this time, each of the boys had written home for fireworks; and for two or three days before the Fifth of November, all kinds of boxes, directed to the different boys, had been left at Mr. Harrison's house, and safely locked up by him, until the right time.

At last the day came. The boys tumbled out of bed in the greatest hurry, dressed, and went out on the lawn, where they gave nine hearty cheers; three for the day, three for Mr. Harrison, and three for fun. After that they all ran into the play-room, where they found the boxes, which had been put there the night before.

Never were boxes opened so quickly. They tore off the tops, and for some moments nothing was heard on all sides but "Only look here," and "Just see _here_;" "Boys, here is my cannon;" "Here are lots of Roman candles," &c.

They had crackers enough between them all to keep them busy the whole day, and they soon got to work at them, and such a popping and cracking began, as frightened all the cats and dogs about the house into the woods.

It was fortunate that the house was situated on a hill, away from any other; so Mr. Harrison let them make as much noise as they pleased, without fear of disturbing any neighbours.

Presently the bell rang for prayers, and directly after that they had breakfast; but the bread and milk and honey were not so much in favour as usual, for the boys were so full of the Fifth of November, that they had no time to think of honey.

Nearly all the fireworks were piled up on a seat against the wall in the play-room. The boys were firing their crackers from their wooden pistols, at some distance from the house.

For some time everything went on well. Mr. Harrison had strictly forbidden them to have any fire in or near the play-room, and they were careful to obey him. But, alas! I must tell you what happened through the thoughtlessness of one of the boys. He was the youngest and smallest of them all. He had fired off the crackers he had taken out, and he ran into the play-room to get more. He held in his hand a piece of punk. All boys know that this is what they use to light their fireworks, as it burns very slowly, and lasts very long. The punk which the little fellow held was burning. He had forgotten to lay it down. He went to the seat where the fireworks were, and began to pull them about to find his crackers.

As he was leaning over, the punk slipped from his fingers, and fell into the midst of the combustibles.

The little fellow was so terribly frightened at this, that he rushed out of the room, without trying to pick it up.

In a moment the fireworks all began to go off together. Pop! crack! fizz! bang! whizz! went the elegant wheels and the crackers, the grasshoppers, the Roman candles and the snakes, while the smoke rushed through the house.

Mr. Harrison ran out of his room where he was reading, and saw, instantly, that the house was in great danger of being burned down. The boys heard the noise, and came flying back to the play-room, to save what they could; but it was impossible to enter. The room was black with smoke, and they looked on dismayed, as they heard the popping and banging of their precious fireworks, while "Who did it?" "Who did it?" was asked on all sides.

Mr. Harrison instantly shut all the doors leading to the play-room, and, quicker than I can tell you, he got some pails of water, and threw them into the room. After some effort, he succeeded in quenching the fire, and ending this display of fireworks, which was a very different one from what had been intended.

But what a sight presented itself! There lay the blackened remnants of the wheels and Roman candles, and a large hole was burned in the side of the room. The blouses of the boys, which hung just above, were burned, some one arm, some both; and the room looked like desolation.

After the fright, and hurry, and confusion, were over, Mr. Harrison called all the boys into the study. He looked very much offended, indeed; and asked in a stern voice, "Which boy went into the play-room with fire?"

The poor little fellow who had done the mischief was crying bitterly. It was very easy to see that he was the guilty one, for the rest looked grave, but not confused.

"Come to me, Edwin," said Mr. Harrison, "and tell me if you have disobeyed me; don't be afraid to speak the truth."

"I did not mean to do it," sobbed the little boy. "I forgot to leave my punk outside, and I dropped it by accident. I am very, very sorry, Mr. Harrison. I am afraid all the boys will hate me, because I have spoiled their sport. I hope you will forgive me, sir." And here his tears and sobs redoubled.

"Edwin," said his kind teacher, "do you not know that my house might have been burned to the ground by your carelessness?--and this night, which we expected to spend so joyfully, we might have been without a roof to cover us? I must punish you to make you remember this accident, which your thoughtless disobedience has occasioned. You must remain in the study until dinner-time. The rest of the boys may go out."

When the boys were out on the lawn again, they got together in a knot, to talk about the accident. Some were very angry with Edwin, and said Mr. Harrison ought to have given him a tremendous flogging; but others were more generous. They were just as sorry for the loss of their fireworks; but, when they looked towards the house, and saw little Edwin gazing mournfully at them from the study window, and wiping away the tears that fell from his eyes, they were more sorry for him, and wished that he could be out among them. Still, they knew it was right that he should be punished.

"Come, boys," said Phil, when they had been standing there talking some time,--"come, let us go and see if anything is left."

They all ran to the play-room, and some of the boys cried out to Edwin,--

"Don't cry, little fellow; we forgive you."

"Why here," shouted Phil--"here's a lot of Roman candles all safe and sound. Hurrah!"

"And here are six wheels in this corner," cried Thomas. "We are not so badly off, after all."

The boys at this good news began to rummage under the pile of ruins, and managed to collect quite a respectable quantity of fireworks. There were enough left to make a display with in the evening, though not near so splendid as they had intended.

"Hurrah!" cried the boys, "we have plenty of Fifth of November left."

"I have lots of crackers outside," said Phil; "but we won't fire them off now. They will do for the small boys to-night. Let us go to the stable, and pay our respects to Napoleon, and Old Pudding-head. They will think themselves quite neglected on this glorious occasion."

So they sallied off to the stable, and saddled the pony and the donkey, and led them out to the play-ground, where Napoleon treated them in turn to a very fine dance on his hind-legs, and Old Pudding-head, not to be behindhand in politeness, gave all the little boys a somersault over his nose. They had a first-rate frolic, and did not think once of the lost fireworks.

After dinner--and a fine dinner they had of chickens, and goose-pie, and custard--Mr. Harrison took the boys (little Edwin, too) down into the village, where a band of musicians were playing and parading through the street. Every little while they would stop playing and hurrah! The boys always hurrahed when the band did, for boys in general are not slow about making a noise. So they made all the noise they possibly could, and came back to tea, each one so hoarse, that Mrs. Harrison asked them if they had frogs in their throats.

At last the evening came, and a still and beautiful evening it was. The stars peeped out, one by one, and the moon stayed in--that is, she did not make her appearance until very late. They could not have had a finer night for the grand display.

The family were all assembled on the lawn, and Mr. Harrison fixed the wheels so nicely, that they whizzed round in the most astonishing manner. The Roman candles went up beautifully, and the grasshoppers and snakes sent the little fellows laughing and scampering in all directions.

The hurrahing was tremendous, and the shouts of laughter were tremendous too.

Altogether they had a very nice time, and went off to bed tired, it is true, but highly pleased with their day's enjoyment--all except little Edwin. He sighed many times, and could hardly get to sleep; but his carelessness was a good lesson to him, for it afterwards made him the most careful boy in the school.

After the Fifth of November, the boys settled down into their usual employments. Their gardens were carefully tended, and many a fine bouquet of flowers was presented with pride and pleasure to Mrs. Harrison. They ate pumpkin-pie, made with their own pumpkins, and thought them the most delicious pumpkins that ever grew; and their melons were the sweetest melons they ever tasted in all their lives.

They were very attentive in school also; and at the end of the term, when the boys were preparing to go home for the holidays, they all said it was the pleasantest time they had ever spent together. They parted with their kind teacher with many thanks for his kindness, and hopes that after the holidays all would meet together again, and be as happy as before.

THE CHRISTMAS PARTY.

Mr. and Mrs. Percy had seven grandchildren, all very pretty and very good. These children did not all have the same father and mother--that is, Mr. and Mrs. Percy's eldest son had three children, whose names were Mary, and Carry, and Thomas; and one of their daughters was married, and had three children--their names were Willy, and Bella, and Fanny; and their youngest son was married and had one child. Her name was Sarah. She was the youngest of the children, and they all loved her very much, and her Grandma made a great pet of her.

The children and their parents had been invited to eat a Christmas dinner with their Grandma, and they had been promised a little dance in the evening. Even little Sarah was to go, and stay to the ball, as she called it. They were glad, for they liked to go to their dear Grandma's very much.

At last Christmas came. It was a bright, frosty day; the icicles that hung from the iron railing, sparkled as the sun shone upon them, and the little boys in the streets made sliding ponds of the gutters, and did not mind a bit when they came down on their backs, but jumped up and tried it again; and a great many people were hurrying along with large turkeys to cook for their Christmas dinner, and everybody looked very happy indeed.

After these children, about whom I am telling you, came back from church, they were dressed very nicely, and although they lived in three different houses, they all got to their Grandma's very nearly at the same time. The first thing they did was to run up to their Grandma, and wish her a merry Christmas, and kiss her, and say that they hoped she felt quite well. Then they did the same to their Grandpa and Aunties, for they had two dear, kind aunts, who lived with their Grandparents. Then they all hugged and kissed each other, and jumped about so much, that some kissed noses and some kissed chins, and little Sarah was almost crazy with delight, for she had never been to so large a party before.

"Grandma," said Willy, "I hung up my stocking last night, and what do you think I got in it?"

His Grandma guessed that he got a birch-rod.

"No," said Willy, laughing, "I got a doughnut in the shape of a monkey with a long tail; I ate the monkey for my breakfast, and it was very good indeed."

The children all laughed at this, and Bella, Willy's sister, who was the oldest of all the children, said she thought Willy had a monkey-_look_ about him. So he went by the name of the monkey-eater for the rest of the day.

Soon the bell rang for dinner, and they all went down stairs; for the children and grown people were to dine together. It was now quite dark, and the chandelier that hung over the table was lighted, the curtains were drawn close, the fire burnt brightly, and the table-cloth was so white and fine that it looked like satin.

The happy party sat down at a large round table, and the children's eyes looked so bright and their cheeks so rosy, that it was the pleasantest sight in the world to see. Little Sarah could not help having a great many little laughs all to herself. She could not keep them in. She was only four years old, so you may suppose she could not look very grave and stiff on such a delightful occasion.

When Willy saw his little cousin Sarah trying to hide her sparkling eyes, and her funny little laugh behind her mother's arm, he felt just as if somebody was tickling him. So he pinched his lips together very tight indeed, and casting his eyes up to the ceiling, tried to look as grave as a judge. But it would not do; he burst out into such a fit of laughing, that everybody else laughed too, and it was a long time before they could get their faces straight enough to eat their dinner.

Would you like to know what they had for dinner? Well, I will tell you. After their Grandpa had asked a blessing, they had some very nice soup. The children did not care for soup. Then they had a fish stuffed with all sorts of things, and stewed, and the grown people said the fish was very nice; but the little ones did not care for that either. They then had some roast beef and a boiled turkey with oysters. The children all took turkey; Willy asked for a drum-stick, and his cousin Mary said he wanted it to beat the monkey he ate in the morning. Bella chose a merry-thought; little Sarah liked a hug-me-fast; Carry took a wishing-bone; Thomas said he would have the other drum-stick to help beat the monkey, and Fanny thanked her Grandma for a wing, so that she could fly away when the beating of the monkey took place.

But this was not half the good things, for they afterwards had some delicious game, such as partridges, and woodcocks, and some fried oysters. All this pleased the grown people most. The children saved their appetites for the dessert. Well, after this, the cloth was taken off, and under that was another table-cloth just as white and fine as the first.

Then came something that was quite astonishing. What do you think it was? It was a great plum-pudding all on fire! it blazed away terribly, and Willy thought they had better send for the fire-engines to put it out; but it was blown out very easily, and the children each had a very small piece, because it was too rich to eat much of, and their parents did not wish to make them ill.

After that there came ice-creams, and jellies, and sweetmeats, that were perfectly delicious; and then the other white cloth was taken off, and under that was a beautiful red one. Then the servants put on the table what the children liked best of all, and that was a dish of fine motto-kisses, and oranges, and grapes, and other nice fine fruits.

The children sent the mottoes to each other, and had a great deal of sport. Some one sent Willy this:--

"O William, William, 'tis quite plain to see
That all your life you will a monkey be."

He thought his cousin Mary had sent it, because he saw that she was trying very hard to look grave, so he sent this to her:--

"Dear Mary, you are too severe--
You are too bad, I do declare;
Your motto has upset me quite,
I shan't get over it to-night."

Mary laughed when she read it, and said she had been just as cruel to Thomas, for she had sent him this:--

"The rose is red, the violet blue,
The grass is green and so are you."

They had a good laugh at Thomas, but as he laughed as hard as any one, it did no harm. Little Sarah had a great many mottoes. Her Mamma read them to her, and it pleased her very much. She said it was a very nice play, but she was tired with sitting such a long time at table, so her Mother let her slip down from her chair.

Very soon all the rest got up, and went up stairs into the drawing-room. But what was that in the middle of the room? It seemed to be a large table covered all over with a red cloth. What could it be? Willy said, "Grandma, that table looks as if something was on it;" and little Sarah said, "Grandma, I guess Old Father Christmas has been here."

"Yes, dear children," said their Grandma, "Father Christmas has been here, and this time he looked very much like your Grandpa. He will be up soon, and then we will see what is on the table."

Oh how the children did wish to peep! They could not look at anything else; they danced and jumped round the table, and were in a great hurry for their Grandpa. In a few minutes he came into the room, and all the children ran up to him and said, "Dear Grandpa, do let us see what you have got on the table."

He smiled, and went to the table and took the cloth off. The children were so astonished that they could not say a single word; the table was covered with beautiful things, and under it was something that looked like a little red-brick house.

"Well," said their kind Grandpa, "my dear children, you did not think you were going to be treated with such a fine show as this; you may go up to the table, and see if you can find out who they are for." The children gathered round the table, and Willy took from the top a fine brig with all her sails set, and colours flying. His eyes sparkled when he saw written on a slip of paper which lay on the deck, these words; "For my dear Willy." The children clapped their hands, and nothing was heard, but "How beautiful!" "What a fine ship!" "It is a brig of war," said Willy: "only look at the little brass guns on her deck! Thank you, thank you, dear Grandpa. What is the name of my ship?"

"Her name is painted on her stern," said his Grandpa. Willy looked, and saw that she was called the "Louisa." He blushed, and looked very funny, and the other children laughed, for Willy knew a very pretty little girl whose name was Louisa, and he liked her very much; and that was what made them laugh when they heard the name.

After they had all admired the brig, they went back to the table, and there were two beautiful books, full of engravings or pictures, one for Bella and one for Mary; and next to these was a large wax doll for Carry, and another for Fanny. Carry's doll was dressed in blue satin, with a white satin hat and a lace veil, and Fanny's doll was dressed in pink satin with a black velvet hat and feathers--their eyes opened and shut, and they had beautiful faces.

How delighted the little girls were! They hugged their dolls to their little breasts, and then ran to hug and kiss their Grandpa. Carry said, "My dolly's name shall be Rose;" and Fanny said, "My dolly's name shall be Christmas, because I got her on Christmas-day."

Well I must hurry and tell you the rest, for I am afraid my story is getting too long. Thomas found for him a splendid menagerie, and all the animals made noises like real animals. There were roaring lions, and yelling tigers, and laughing hyenas, and braying asses, and chattering monkeys, and growling bears, and many other wild beasts. Oh, how pleased Thomas was, and all the children!

Little Sarah did nothing but jump up and down, and say, "So many things! So many things! I never saw so many things!"

But who was to have the little house under the table, I wonder? There was a little piece of paper sticking out of the chimney, and Sarah pulled it out and carried it to her Grandpa. He took her up in his arms, and read it to her. What was written on it was, "A baby-house for my little darling Sarah."

"Why, I guess this must be for you," said Grandpapa.

"Yes, it is for me," said the little girl; "my name is Sarah, and it must be for me."

Her Grandpa put her down, and led her to the table. He drew the little house out, and opened it. The whole front of the house opened, and there, inside, were two rooms; one was a parlour, and one a bedroom. The children all cried out, "What a fine baby-house! Look at the centre-table, and the red velvet chairs; and only see the elegant curtains! Oh dear! how beautiful it is!"

Little Sarah did not say a word. She stood before the baby-house with her hands stretched out, and jumped up and down, her eyes shining like diamonds. She was too much pleased to speak. She looked so funny jumping up and down all the time, that she made Willy laugh again, and then everybody laughed.

At last she said, "There is a young lady sitting in the chair with a red sash on. I think she wants to come out."

"Well, you may take her out," said her Grandpa. So Sarah took the young lady out, and then took up the chairs and sofa, one by one, and smoothed the velvet, and looked at the little clock on the mantelpiece, and opened the little drawers of the bureau; and then putting them down, she began to jump again.

There was never such a happy party before. The children hardly wished to dance, they were so busy looking at their presents. But after a little while they had a very nice dance. One of their aunts played for them; she played so well, and kept such nice time, that it was quite a pleasure to hear her.