Holiday House Part 10

The pedestrians had now arrived at the pretty village of Corstorphine, when they were unexpectedly met by Peter Grey, who joined them without waiting to ask leave. Here the hills are so beautifully wooded, and the villas so charming, that Harry, Peter, and Laura stopped a moment, to consider what house they would like best to live in. Near one side of the road stood a large cart of hay, on the top of which were several men, forking it in at the window of a high loft, which could only be entered by a long ladder that leaned against the wall. It was a busy joyous scene, and soon attracted the children's whole attention, who were transfixed with delight, seeing how rapidly the people ran up and down, with their pitchforks in their hands, and tilted the hay from the cart into the loft, while they had many jokes and much laughter among themselves. At last their whole business was finished, and the workmen drove away for another supply, to the neighbouring fields, where they had been raking and tossing it all morning, as merry as crickets.

"What happy people!" exclaimed Harry, looking wistfully after the party, and wis.h.i.+ng he might have scrambled into the cart beside them. "I would be a haymaker for nothing, if anybody would employ me; would not you, Peter?"

"It is very strange," said Master Grey, "why little ladies and gentlemen seem always obliged to endure a perfectly useless walk every day, as you and Laura are doing now. You never saw animals set out to take a stroll for the good of their healths! How odd it would be to see a couple of dogs set off for a country walk!"

"Miss Laura!" said Mrs. Crabtree, "Master Harry may rest here for a minute or two with Master Peter, and let them count their fingers, while you come with Betty and me to visit a sick old aunt of mine who lives round the corner; but be sure, boys, you do not presume to wander about, or I shall punish you most severely. We are coming back in two minutes."

Mrs. Crabtree had scarcely disappeared into a small shabby-looking cottage, before Peter turned eagerly to Harry, with a face of great joy and importance, exclaiming, "Only see how very lucky this is! The haymakers have left their long ladder, standing on purpose for us! The window of that loft is wide open, and I must climb up immediately to peep in, because never, in all my life, did I see the inside of a hay-loft before!"

"Nor I!" added Harry. "Uncle David says, that all round the floor there are deep holes, called mangers, down which food is thrown for the horses, so that they can thrust their heads in, to take a bite, whenever they choose."

"How I should hate to have my dinner hung up always before my nose in that way! Suppose the kitchen were placed above your nursery, and that Mrs. Marmalade showered down tarts and puddings, which were to remain there till you ate them, you would hate the sight of such things at last. But now, Harry, for the hay-loft."

Peter scrambled so rapidly up the ladder, that he soon reached the top, and instantly vanished in at the window, calling eagerly for Harry to follow. "You never saw such a nice, clean, funny place as this, in all your life!--make haste!--come faster!--never mind crus.h.i.+ng your hat or tearing your jacket,--I'll put it all to rights. Ah! there!--that's the thing!--walk up, gentlemen! walk up!--the grand show!--sixpence each, and children half-price!"

All this time, Harry was slowly, and with great difficulty, picking his steps up the ladder, but a most troublesome business it was! First, his foot became entangled in a rope,--then his hat got squeezed so out of shape, it looked perfectly tipsy,--next, one of his shoes nearly came off,--and afterwards he dropped his gloves; but at last he stumbled up in safety, and stood beside Peter in the loft, both laughing with delight at their own enterprize.

The quant.i.ty of hay piled up on all sides, astonished them greatly, while the nice, wide floor between, seemed larger than any drawing-room, and was certainly made on purpose for a romp. Harry rolled up a large ball of hay to throw at Peter, while he, in return, aimed at him, so they ran after each other, round and round the loft, raising such a riot, that the very "rafters dirled."

The hay now flew about in clouds, while they jumped over it, or crept under it, throwing handfuls about in every direction, and observing that this was the best play-room they had ever been in.

"How lucky that we came here!" cried Peter. "I should like to stay an hour at least!"

"Oh! two hours,--or three,--or all day," added Harry. "But what shall we do about Mrs. Crabtree? She has not gone to settle for life with that old sick aunt, so I am afraid we must really be hurrying back, in case she may find out our expedition, and that, you know, Peter, would be dreadful!"

"Only fancy, Harry, if she sees you and me clinging to the ladder, about half way down! what a way she would be in!"

"We had better make haste," said Harry, looking around. "What would grandmama say!--I wish we had never come up!"

At this moment, Harry was still more brought to his senses, by hearing Mrs. Crabtree's voice, exclaiming, in loud angry accents, "Where in all the world can those troublesome boys be gone! I must tether them to a tree the next time they are left together! Why! sure! they would not venture up that long ladder in the hay-loft! If they have, they had better never come down again, for I shall shew who is master here."

"Peter Grey would run up a ladder to the stars, if he could find one,"

replied Betty. "Here are Master Harry's gloves lying at the bottom of it. They can be gone nowhere else, for I have searched every other place. We must send the town-crier with his bell after them, if they are not found up there!"

Mrs. Crabtree now seemed fearfully angry, while Laura began to tremble with fright for Harry, who was listening overhead, and did not know very well what to do, but foolishly thought it best to put off the evil hour of being punished as long as possible; so he and Peter silently crept in below a great quant.i.ty of hay, and hid themselves so cunningly, that even a thief-catcher could scarcely have discovered their den. In this dark corner, Harry had time to reflect and to feel more and more alarmed and sorry for his misconduct, so he said, in a very distressed voice, "Oh, Peter! what a pity it is ever to be naughty, for we are always found out, and always so much happier when we are good!"

"I wonder how Mrs. Crabtree will get up the long ladder?" whispered Peter, laughing. "I would give my little finger, and one of my ears, to see her and Betty scrambling along!"

Harry had to pinch Peter's arm almost black and blue before he would be quiet; and by the time he stopped talking, Mrs. Crabtree and Betty were both standing in the hay-loft, exceedingly out of breath with climbing so unusually high, while Mrs. Crabtree very nearly fell, having stumbled over a step at the entrance.

"Why, sure! there's n.o.body here!" exclaimed she, in a disappointed tone.

"And what a disorderly place this is! I thought a hay-loft was always kept in such nice order, with the floor all swept! but here is a fine mess! Those two great lumps of hay in the corner look as if they were meant for people to sleep upon!"

Harry gave himself up for lost when Mrs. Crabtree noticed the place where he and Peter had buried themselves alive; but to his great relief, no suspicion seemed to have been excited, and neither of the two searchers were anxious to venture beyond the door, after having so nearly tripped upon the threshold.

"They must have been stolen by a gipsey, or perhaps fallen into a well,"

said Betty, who rather liked the bustle of an accident. "I always thought Master Peter would break his neck, or something of that kind.

Poor thing! how distressed his papa will be!"

"Hold your tongue," interrupted Mrs. Crabtree, angrily. "I wish people would either speak sense, or not speak at all! Did you hear a noise among the hay?"

"Rats, I dare say! or perhaps a dog!" answered Betty, turning hastily round, and hurrying down the ladder faster than she had come up. "I certainly thought something moved in yon far corner."

"Where can that little shrimp of a boy be hid?" added Mrs. Crabtree, following. "He must have obedience knocked like a nail into his head, with a few good severe blows. I shall beat him to powder when once we catch him."

"You may depend upon it," persisted Betty, "that some gipsey has got the boys for the sake of their clothes. It will be a great pity, because Master Harry had on his best blue jacket and trowsers."

No sooner was the loft cleared of these unwelcome visitors, than Harry and Peter began to recover from their panic, and jumped out of the hay, shaking themselves free from it, and skipping about in greater glee than ever.

While they played about, as they had done before, and tumbled as if they had been tumblers at Ducrow's, poor Harry got into such spirits, that he completely forgot about the deep holes called mangers, for containing the horse's food, till all at once, when Peter was running after him, he fell, with a loud crash, headlong into one of them! Oh! what a scream he gave!--it echoed through the stable, terrifying a whole team of horses that were feeding there, more particularly the one into whose manger he had fallen. The horse gave a tremendous start when Harry plunged down close to his nose, and not being able to run away, he put back his ears, opened his mouth, and kicked and struggled in the most frightful manner, while Harry, who could not make his escape any more than the horse, shouted louder and louder for help.

Peter did all he could to a.s.sist Harry in this extraordinary predicament, but finding it impossible to be of any use, he forgot their terror of Mrs. Crabtree in his fears about Harry, and rushed to the window, calling back their two pursuers, who were walking away at a great distance. He screamed and hollooed, and waved his handkerchief, without ceasing, till at last Mrs. Crabtree heard him, and turned round, but never was anybody more astonished then she was, on seeing him there, so she scolded, stormed, and raged, up to the very foot of the ladder.

"Now, you are the besiegers, and I am the garrison!" cried Peter, when he saw Mrs. Crabtree panting and toiling in her ascent. "We must make a treaty of peace together, for I could tumble you over in a minute, by merely pus.h.i.+ng this end a very little more to one side!"

"Do not touch it, Master Peter!" cried Mrs. Crabtree, almost afraid he was in earnest. "There is a good boy,--be quiet!"

"A good boy!!" whispered Peter to himself. "What a fright Mrs. Crabtree must be in, before she said that!"

The next moment Mrs. Crabtree s.n.a.t.c.hed Harry out of the manger, and shook him with rage. She then scolded and beat him, till he was perfectly stupified with fright and misery, after which the whole party were allowed to proceed towards home, while Harry stumbled along the road, and hung down his head, wis.h.i.+ng, fifty times over, that he and Peter Grey had never gone up

THE LONG LADDER.

CHAPTER VII.

THE MAD BULL.

There's something in a n.o.ble boy, A brave, free-hearted, careless one; With his uncheck'd, unbidden joy, His dread of books and love of fun.

And in his clear and ready smile, Unshaded by a thought of guile And unrepress'd by sadness,-- Which brings me to my childhood back, As if I trod its very track, And felt its very gladness.

Willis.

One evening, when Harry and Laura came down to dessert, they were surprised to observe the two little plates usually intended for them, turned upside down, while uncle David pretended not to notice anything, though he stole a glance to see what would happen next. On lifting up these mysterious plates, what did they see lying underneath, but two letters with large red seals, one directed to "Master Harry Graham," and the other to "Miss Laura Graham."

"A letter for me!!" cried Harry, in a tone of delighted astonishment, while he tore open the seal, and his hand shook with impatience, so that he could hardly unfold the paper. "What can it be about! I like getting a letter very much! Is it from papa? Did the postman bring it?"

"Yes, he did," said uncle David: "and he left a message that you must pay a hundred pounds for it to-morrow."

"Very likely, indeed," said Laura; "you should pay that for telling me such a fine story; but my letter is worth more than a hundred pounds, for it is inviting me to spend another delightful week at Holiday House."

"I am asked too! and not Mrs. Crabtree!" cried Harry, looking at his letter, and almost screaming out for joy, whilst he skipped about the room, rubbing his hands together, and ended by twirling Laura round and round, till they both fell prostrate on the floor.

"If that be meant as a specimen of how you intend to behave at Holiday House, we had better send your apology at once," observed Lady Harriet, smiling. "Lord Rockville is very particular about never hearing any noise, and the slamming of a door, or even the creaking of a pair of unruly shoes, would put him distracted."

"Yes!" added uncle David, "Holiday House is as quiet as Harry's drum with a hole in it. If a pin drops in any part of the mansion, Lord Rockville becomes annoyed, and the very wasps scarcely dare to buz at his window so loud as at any other person's. You will feel quite fish-out-of-water-ish, trying to be quiet and hum-drum for a whole week, so let me advise you not to go."