In a distant county, in the North of England, there was situated in a quiet country parish a rural rectory, surrounded by a garden, and adorned with the only good trees in the neighbourhood; it stood sheltered at the foot of a hill, the only rising ground to be seen amidst a flat and smoke-dried country. Within that rectory lived a venerable and venerated father, with a loving and adored mother, who had hitherto been surrounded at Christmas by the happy faces and smiling countenances of thirteen children, with their numerous offsprings.
A bright blazing fire is sending a gloomy tint all over the pretty drawing room, hung with green, and adorned with bright flowers, worked by skilful fingers. Various beautiful and rare specimens of Foreign workmanship ornament every part of the room, chairs and sofas of ease and luxury pervade the apartment, nothing seems wanting to render this room the beau ideal of an English home at Christmas time, for the bright green holly with its scarlet berries is hung in every direction. It is well inhabited too. In the high-backed old-fashionedchair sits a sweet and dignified lady, but her face had a painful expression, her eyes were fixed on nothing, her delicate white fingers were half clasped together, her thoughts seemed far away. On the opposite side of the fire sat a girl writing, whose pretty figure bent over the paper until the long chestnut curls lay resting on the table, but they quite concealed the face. A tall slim figure was busily winding silk, with her back to the fire, her dark hair, beautifully plaited in a thick Grecian plait, shewing her small head to great advantage. In full front of the fire sat another girl, whose pretty sweet face was bedewed with tears, which every now and then she wiped away. A step was heard on the stairs, the sweet Mother's eyes recovered their animation, the winder stopped from her occupation, the writer raised a pale and care-worn face, each advanced to the door as it opened to admit the grey-headed Father. He bore a packet of letters, but his face was mournful as he said, "No, none from them." "Alas, alas," said the sorrowful Mother, sinking back into her chair, "what are we to think? I see, I see, all this heap of letters, and not one contains the news we pine for. They are only repetitions of what we have already had; anxious enquiries from still more anxious parents, painful to read, still more painful to answer. I cannot read them, I cannot bear them in my sight." As they tried to comfort her, rapid wheels and fast-trotting horses' feet were heard, and the next minute a carriage with four breathless and smoking horses turned into the drive, and stood at the front door. Beforethey had stopped, a gentleman sprung from the carriage and bounded up stairs in a minute, his figure being concealed in a travelling cloak. As he raised his hat, he shewed the fine bald head and handsome countenance of Sir Walter Mayton. The aged father raised one hand, the sorrowful mother clasped the other, as they exclaimed, "What news, what news. Have you heard of our lost ones?" He could not bring himself to speak the negative that his sorrowful shake of the hand indicated, but another person was behind him, having come in the same carriage. Who could mistake that kind and loving face, the noble features so handsome in their regularity, so beneficent, so benign, the snow-white hair, the merry kind blue eye, the upright figure. The weeping Mother threw herself into his arms. "Don't cry, don't cry, my dear Emily," said he, the tears rolling down his rich ruddy cheek, "we shall find them again. We will go in search of them. Remember, I too am a sufferer. Have I not lost my right hand, the sunbeam of my house, my sweet, little, mischievous, pretty, fidgety Gatty," and he raised his eyes reverently to heaven, as if to invoke a blessing on his lost child; and this was Gatty's Father, who had left his court, and had come down purposely with Sir Walter Mayton to consult on the best mode of discovering the lost party, and taking the advice of all those nearly and dearly interested in them.
"Now," said Sir Walter Mayton, seeing that the painfulness of the meeting was nearly over, "now letus proceed to business. First of all, will you allow me to ring the bell for some dinner, as I can tell my story while it is getting ready, and we must leave immediately after." That matter being arranged, he proceeded, "You are aware that I, according to directions that I received from our lost party, dated Madeira, followed them to Rio Janeiro by the next packet. I had a capital voyage, and was so speedy in my movements that I was not surprised at finding La Luna not in port when I arrived. I waited patiently for a week during which time I hired a house and made preparations for their seeing all that was worth seeing in the country. At the end of that time your son's ship came into port, and she had not reported herself five minutes ere I was on board. He, with me, expressed great disappointment at the non-arrival of our party, and, from being rather fidgety before, I became doubly so at seeing his anxiety. Accordingly, we left orders and persons ready to receive them should they arrive by any means unknown to us; and I, at his request, accompanied him on his cruise up and down the coast, thinking, in my impatience, that I should hear of them sooner; and at all events, it was some employment, for, I frankly own, I could not have waited another week doing nothing, and suffering such anxiety.
"We were out a fortnight, and all we heard was that there had been a tremendous gale, for those vessels that were only in the tail of it suffered considerably. But, your son had no fear of La Luna riding it out, knowingwhat a good sea-boat she was; except, indeed, she had by some misfortune got into the circle of the storm, by which she would not only have the worst of it, but be violently exposed for many more days than otherwise. Our anxiety grew with the weeks, so at the end of the fortnight we put into Rio again, and consulted the best authorities. We all agreed on one subject, namely, that having good sea-room, which we calculated she must have had when the storm overtook her, she could not have foundered or been lost. We had then to think what else could have occurred, and in making up our minds to wait patiently another fortnight, we calculated that ladies do sometimes change their minds, and that they might have been seduced into landing on some of the numerous and lonely islands with which the Atlantic abounds.
"But, it was sorry work this waiting, I determined to make them pay dearly for breaking their promise, should it be the case, and for putting me into such a painful state."
"I can well believe it, Sir, I can well believe it," said the grey-headed Father. "Thank you, thank you for all your kind interest."
"Nay, Sir, thank me not. I own I have neither chick nor child, and so may not be expected to feel as much as a parent would do on such an occasion; but, Sir, I feel for my wards as tenderly as any Father can, I would rather a thousand ills occurred to me thanthat a hair of their heads should be injured." His strong voice faltered, "But, enough, I came here to tell my tale, and not to indulge in unavailing sorrow. Let it suffice to tell you I left not a port unexplored on the coast of America; I left not a stone unturned to learn their fate; I rested not day or night; your son had permission from the admiral to devote as much time to the same search, as his duties would permit. I mentally resolved I would not leave the spot until I heard something of them."
"How kind, how good you are," said the listeners.
"And I should have kept my promise, had it not been for a letter from Mr. M., who you know is co-trustee and joint guardian with me of your grandchildren. Of course the loss of such a party soon became known, in fact our anxiety, and all we did, and the sympathy we met with, and the help we obtained, would detain you much too long were I to tell you. But you will not be surprised to hear that the next heir to my wards' estates has intimated his knowledge that some dire misfortune has occurred to the three children on whom the property is entailed, your grandchildren. I, therefore, came home at once. I have consulted Mr. M., I have taken the ablest advice, and where could I have better than from him who is so interested in the matter, and so high in his profession?" Bowing to Gatty's Father. "Also I have seen the once-hasty heir, and settled his business, I have put everything into the hands of Mr. M. regarding the property, and in such training that nothing can be done for a year or two bythe next heir, and now I am come down to see you, and take your orders and wishes, and to-morrow I sail for America to prosecute my search, and not leave it until I find them dead or alive."
"You are too kind, too good, one might expect such devotion in one of their relations, but not in one barely connected with them. We know not how to thank you."
With such speeches the whole party were proceeding, but Sir Walter interrupted them, saying, "Nay, nay, say no more, I am not acting so disinterestedly as you think, my conscience would not suffer me to rest easy did I not do my duty to the children of one of my oldest and dearest friends. At his dying request I undertook the charge, and only with life do I mean to relinquish my care over them. Besides, look round amongst all who are now mourning the loss of those I am about to seek; have they not ties of home, children, professions? I have none. I had but to guard the property of my wards, superintend their education, and prevent their mother spoiling them, and, by this sad event that business is over. It is my duty to seek for them; as a military man and acquainted with the world, I am fitted for adventure and all its consequences. I go with a cheerful heart and hopeful expectations. I have but one sorrow, and that is the mad permission I gave them to go without me." Thus saying, he arose and paced the room rapidly. Gatty's Father rose also, and, taking his hand, solemnly thanked him for what he was about to do as regarded the welfare of hislost child, continuing in this strain, "Your language and energy, Sir Walter, make me wish I could accompany you, but that you know is impossible, serving her Majesty in the capacity I do. But my heart and prayers go with you, and remember that as I cannot indulge my wish to join you in your search, you must command my purse. Ah my Gatty, my pretty darling, did your Father reckon your value by his purse, what worlds could contain the treasure I would give for thee? The merciful God preserve my dear child, and restore her to my arms." All were too much affected to speak for some little time, but the meal being announced as ready, they entered once more into conversation as they ate it.
Emily, the active winder, asked if they had escaped the tempest, what probable fate could have detained them so long? Sir Walter looked up, quickly laid down his knife and fork, and was about to say something, when he corrected himself, and said instead, "You shall know all I can learn when I get to America."
"But," said Charlotte, looking up from between her long curls, with great anxiety, "you do know more only you are afraid to tell us. Pray be kind to us, and tell us all you know." "Why should I tell you what would add to your sorrow, when there may be nothing but conjecture in the idea?" "Oh," said the eager Mother, "tell us all, we are so bewildered and lost in conjectures, that nothing you can tell us could add to the anxiety we are in. Moreover, I think I know what you mean. I have already hinted such a thingto my husband. Are you not afraid they have been captured by the pirates, whose depredations my son has been ordered to subdue?" "Just so, my dear Madam, it was the common opinion of every one, when I left Rio, that they had fallen into the hands of the gang of pirates now infesting those seas. This knowledge has added an additional spur to your son's exertions, though he did not want it, for the Admiral had been laughing at him, and calling his ship a 'Will o' the Wisp,' she seemed to be in every port every day. I can assure you, Sir," turning to the Father, "you may, amidst all your sorrow, congratulate yourself on having for a son one of the most promising officers in Her Majesty's service, and it is well known too." The dear beloved parents needed such a balm to their harassed minds. "But, can you," said Gatty's Father, "form any conjecture as to what would be their fate, say they were in the hands of the pirates?" "I took good care, Sir, before I left Rio, to offer very tempting ransoms, and to publish them in all quarters, and it is well known they are a very needy set, and that so much money will be too difficult for them to refuse. So I have every hope, and now I must be off."
Amidst the prayers, tears, blessings, and good wishes of the whole party he departed, leaving the loving Mother comfortable, the christian Father resigned, the sweet anxious sisters hopeful. But the weary months flew by; the distant parents came to talk over the fate of the lost ones; the letters from America grewbrief and desponding; hope died totally away in the breasts of some; Sir Walter again visited England, and again returned to pursue his search; H.M.S. C—— was on the eve of being ordered home; some went into deep mourning, as if their nearest and dearest were but just dead; the over-hasty heir was beginning to threaten; the letters home ceased, as if it were better not to write at all than to write disappointment.
Had years gone by since that pretty drawing room had disclosed the affectionate family mourning their lost ones on Christmas-day? Had not Christmas come and gone, and yet they were still mourning? Time will show. It takes the sick couch, the dying words, the quivering breath, the last sigh, the solemn funeral pomp, to make death seem reality, to be assured we have lost "the light of our eyes," to be certain that one from amongst us has gone, and that we shall see his face no more.
Without all this, was it possible to feel that so large a gap was made in the family circle, such a rent was torn from the flourishing tree, and yet no sign was given to show how it was done?
Weep on, beloved mourners, weep on, but not for ever. Have we not a home, where no such ties can be severed, no such grief felt? This is but a passage to a better world; why should we grieve at what occurs tous herein, when we have the home of the blessed before us, the rest of the faithful awaiting us. In such words spake the pious, humble, consistent Father to his family, and they were comforted; and as months flew by, they whispered and talked of their lost ones, as if they were already denizens of the bright world beyond the tomb, and peace was restored to the family.
It fortunately happened that we had so much to do we could not weep all day; moreover, Jenny, who was very methodical, thought if we went on crying all the evening, how was she to get the tea ready. Accordingly, with some hesitation, having shewn her face several times before, she ventured to enquire if she might take away the remains of our feast. On this we all roused up, and bestirred ourselves; the girls helped to wash up; the little ones ran out to amuse themselves; I swept the floor, while Schillie put the room tidy; Madame having gone to lay down to cure her sad headache. We then all went down to the sea to bathe and enjoy the cool breeze, and at night we went to bed sorrowful but thankful for the many mercies above, around, about us.
On the morrow, lessons were to begin seriously, and some seemed to think it almost a hanging matter, so doleful did they look. They were to have that part of the room nearest the door, as being lighter and more airy. The maids had the rest of the room for layingthe meals, while Schillie and I had to dispose of ourselves any way we could, so it was out of the way.
We had a long conversation on this particular morning, which I began by saying, "We must now begin to think of making discoveries, and storing food against the rainy weather."
Schillie.—"Good woman, how fidgety you are. I do think you might allow me a little rest after building that horrid house and labouring so hard."
Mother.—"But we shall look so silly if we have nothing to eat, and it is impossible to get out during the wet weather."
Schillie.—"That's granted, I cannot abide wet weather."
Mother.—"Then making discoveries is your principal delight; and you may combine amusement and use together."
Schillie.—"A thing I abominate. I hate joining two things, and I cannot be amused when all the time I am thinking I am so useful."
Mother.—"Then sit down here, while I go and perpetrate this horrid crime!"
Schillie.—"Now, June, you are going too far, as if I would suffer you to stir a yard without me; you will be tumbling over some precipice, get eaten up by a huge turtle, or light on another great snake. Now, come along, what's the first discovery we are to make?"
Mother.—"That's more than I can settle, because I am quite in the dark at present about what we require.But, if you must have a decided answer, pray discover some shoes and boots."
Schillie.—"Now you must talk common sense if you mean me to help you. I heard that little demure Jenny, who thinks of nothing but the children, coming to you this morning with a complaint about the number of holes in her darling's only pair of shoes."
Mother.—"Oh but she brought in her apron the whole establishment of young boots and shoes, that I might see the dilapidated condition in which they were."
Schillie.—"And what did you say to that?"
Mother.—"I looked at her gravely and said, 'Then Jenny, order the carriage, and tell Goode I shall go to H—— this evening to buy boots and shoes for the young ones.' I was sorry after I had indulged in this joke, for first of all she looked perplexed, then she looked sorrowful, and finally she bundled up her miserable cargo, and fled in a burst of tears."
Schillie.—"Then she is a greater goose than I imagined. She would have been more sensible had she devised some means of repairing them, without bothering you."
Mother.—"But they are past repair."
Schillie.—"Then she might have tried to concoct new ones."
Mother.—"Perhaps she does not like combining amusement and business together."
Schillie.—"Now, June, you are too bad, and to punish you I'll not help you a bit with your boots and shoes."
Mother.—"Suppose we take to going without any."
Schillie.—"Yes, and get bitten to death with these horrid scorpions, or, look here, see how pleasant to put one's naked foot on these black ants."
Mother.—"Then it seems clear we must have boots and shoes."
Schillie.—"Of course, who doubted it?"
Mother.—"Then let us go and discover something that will somehow do for them."
Schillie.—"You always come round me in such a manner, that I begin to think if you told me to do so I should be creeping out of my skin some day."
Mother.—"Pray don't disturb yourself with that idea, as I rather want to clothe you than disrobe you. For our next discovery must be something of which to make dresses."
Schillie.—"Are you gone mad; who wants dresses, have we not enough to last us for a year at least?"
Mother.—"Yes, that I know, but I want to make the discovery, and get expert in the business before our own clothes are quite gone. It will be so awkward to have no clothes at all."
Schillie.—"Very much so."
Mother.—"Now do you know I have already had a great idea that this is the palm tree, out of which they make sago. Here you see are the young ones, small prickly shrubs, and here they are growing up into trees, and this one that I first pointed out is covered with a whitish dust, which I have read is an indication that the sago is ready to be taken."
Schillie.—"You seem very learned on the subject, but are you going to make boots and shoes out of sago?"
Mother(laughing).—"No, no, I don't want to confine my discoveries only to boots and shoes, I am for discovering everything, and I meant to have told you of this discovery before, for I conjectured it when you used to make me lie down to rest in this spot while you did my work."
Schillie.—"And very lucky it is that you have some one with an ounce of sense near you to make you rest. You don't work race horses like carters, but a Suffolk Punch is made for use, and all the better for it."
Mother.—"You don't compliment yourself, Mrs. Suffolk Punch, though I agree you do the work of the animal you liken yourself to. But I beg you won't compare me to anything so useless as a racer, who is only required for a few days hard labour, and then may die, having fulfilled the purpose of filling the owner's pockets."
Schillie.—"You know nothing about the matter. You don't suppose that horses are bred so highly merely for running races. It is to improve the breed of horses, and you may go to the moon and never——"
Mother.—"Look, look, what a lovely tree!"
Schillie.—"So it is. Let us sit down, while I fish out my book, and discover what it is. Now then for characteristics. Why here is a picture of it. What a nice book this is. It's a nutmeg tree. Then it may go to the dogs, for I hate nutmegs."
Mother.—"I don't like them either, but I have heard they are very good preserved, and, besides, some of the others may like them, so let us see if any are ripe. No! none at all, so it's lucky we are indifferent about nutmegs at present."
Schillie.—"All this shrubby stuff about here, looking something like Jerusalem artichoke, is ginger I think."
Mother.—"Yes, it is, so we will take some home, as it is very good for Madame. What nice large roots it has, but I don't call it a shrub. Shrubs are bushy things."
Schillie.—"Call it what you like, so we may have some preserved. I could eat it for breakfast, dinner, and tea. Now, here are your boots and shoes growing on this Ita palm. Look, my knowing little book says the leaves are enclosed in cases, which serve for shoes, and this is the exact description of these tall fellows. Now, June, if we can only take some home to Jenny she will be as pleased as Punch, and so shall I, for I did not think your fidgetiness would end in such a fine encouraging manner."
Mother.—"But, good lack, as you say, how are we ever to get at them; this tree must be at least a hundred feet high, and all the others seem bigger, and all the leaves are at the top; almost sky-high they look."
Schillie.—"We must cut one down, there is no help for it. I will run home for a couple of hatchets, and mind you don't stir from hence until I return, and don't get eaten up, for your life, by anything."
Mother.—"Suppose you bring the girls with you; we shall never cut it down ourselves without aching all over, and they will be so glad to get out of school."
Schillie.—"I'll be bound they will. But first I shall say only those are to come out who have been good, for the pleasure of seeing Miss Gatty screw up her countenance into ineffable disgust, for I know she will have been naughty."
Mother.—"You know you will do nothing of the sort, but, on the contrary, say that Gatty is more wanted than the others."
Schillie.—"I confess I have a weakness for that child, she is so preposterously mischievous."
Mother.—"Now I have a weakness for her, because she is like the knights of old, 'the soul of honour.' Now she fires up, and now she ruins her pocket handkerchiefs if anything is said derogatory to her own country or to her Queen. Did you hear or rather see her this morning while they were reading their history, when Madame praised Napoleon Buonaparte at the expense of the Duke of Wellington?"
Schillie.—"Yes. I misdoubt me that I shall find her in sad disgrace. She will have endeavoured to soothe her wounded feelings by putting spiders on Sybil, changing Serena's book, mislaying Madame's alderman, which is neither more nor less than the name Gatty has given that great fat pencil with which Madame marks their books, and rat-ta-ta-tals them up when they are looking dull and stupid."
Mother.—"Don't come without her, however, forshe is the strongest. It's a pity Sybil is so good as never to be in disgrace, for her little delicate fingers are of no use in such a case."
Schillie.—"Indeed Sybil and Serena are too stupid for anything. They learn all their books, they like all their lessons, they agree to all Madame's crinkums crankums, and they are so horridly good, it quite puts me out."
Mother.—"Pooh, nonsense. If we had three Gattys here we should find the island too hot to hold us. Be content at having two of the best girls in the world to deal with."
Schillie.—"I must say Serena is a tip-top girl, she makes Miss Gatty look about her; but I must be off."
During her absence, I sat down upon an old stump of a tree, and by and by I heard a little rustling in the bushes, out of which came a sort of animal like a large rat, but it had a flat tail, and each side of this tail was adorned with hair like fringe. It looked at me steadily, and, except its tail, was not an ugly creature. I did not choose to be frightened; but still as another and another came, and all stood steadily gazing at me, I had a sort of qualm that some rats fly at one's throat, and, though not really injured, I might perhaps get severely bitten if they attacked me. I was therefore glad to hear the merry voices in the distance coming nearer and nearer; and, as the rats heard the unusual sounds, they slunk away as if by magic, for I could hardly perceive the movement by which they disappeared.
Schillie(quite breathless).—"Well, here you are quite safe. I am always so afraid when I leave you that you get into some mischief. But you have seen something, I know by your face."
Mother.—"Then don't look as if I was injured. I have only seen some odd-looking sorts of rats with flat tails."
Schillie.—"Then Otty must come with his gun and shoot them, for I dare say now that snake is dead the animals of all kinds will increase very much. I only wish there was a snake among the gnat tribe. Anything like the way in which I am teased by things biting me is not to be described."
The girls were delighted with the business set before them, and even Madame appeared with a hatchet in her delicate fingers, but without being able to make even an apology of a stroke.
When the tree was down, we proceeded to shoe ourselves, intent upon delighting and surprising Jenny. But we never regarded a gummy substance exuding from all parts of the tree, which plagued us for some time afterwards, destroying the stockings, and very, very difficult to get off, also blistering the skin a little, but these sheathes for the leaves of the Ita palm really made capital shoes. We had only to dry them a little in the sun. They did not however last very long, and it was no uncommon thing for the boys to want a new pair every day. Notwithstanding there being such anabundance of these naturally-growing ready-made shoes, we were not sorry at the ingenious invention of Sybil and Serena, who, after repeated efforts, contrived to plait most excellent shoes out of grass.
One day, penetrating a little farther than usual, we came to a rich little glen, running down to the sea. Here, digging up some plants, as was our usual custom, to make fresh discoveries, we found the mould of a beautiful bright red colour; this shaded off into deep chocolate or bright yellow. We could not discover any metallic substance in it, or that it tasted of anything, but it painted our fingers whenever we touched it, and when first turned up was glossy and shining. Near this place grew some sugar canes, curiously striped, and a tree or shrub, seven or eight feet high, with an oblong hairy pod; something like a chestnut, hanging to it; inside were about thirty or forty seeds, buried in a pulp of bright red colour, smelling rather fragrant. We found out afterwards that these seeds were good for fevers, and the pulp made very good red paint.
The tobacco plant we all knew very well. It grew in the most rank manner here. But one of the most lovely trees we had yet discovered was one twenty feet high, with a grey, smooth, shining trunk, apparently destitute of bark. It had beautiful dark green leaves, with an astonishing profusion of white flowers, so deliciously fragrant, that we sat to the wind side of it with the greatest delight. It had berries on it, out of which squeezed a sweet oil smelling of cloves.
We did not like the situation of our house nearly so much as on the cliffs; we had so little air, and were so much tormented by insects of all kinds. Some of the ant hills were at least three feet high; and upon merely walking near them, the angry little inhabitants came swarming out in multitudes to resent the supposed injury.
On the cactuses, which grew very large, and in a most luxuriant manner, we discovered what we supposed were the insects for making cochineal, but we did not think that a grand discovery, but, on the contrary, thought the cotton plant a much greater gift.
I had been used to spin when in Scotland, having taken a fancy to the thing. But, not all the wishes in the world could produce a spinning wheel, so I kept my desires secret until I saw some hope of accomplishment. Every day each person had to bring in their quota of discoveries and additions to our larder and stores, for, though we knew nothing about the climate we imagined ourselves looking remarkably silly, should bad weather come on, and find us unprovided.
Taking one day as a specimen for all the rest, after three hours exploring, in different parties, we produced our treasures, as follows:—Madame had gathered a number of small reeds or rushes, out of which she had concocted two very pretty and useful baskets, one of which had been immediately appropriated by a hen.For, while she was busy with the other, this hen thought she had never beheld so cosy a nest, and, therefore, laid an egg in it. This was of course given to Madame, for her supper, as a reward for her ingenuity. Schillie came dragging with her, besides innumerable other plants and curiosities, an enormous root, as thick as her waist.
Schillie.—"Now then, young ones, come round and see what this is. You see when I cut it what milky stuff flows from it."
"Yes," said they, "we see; may we not have some to put into our own tea? It is so nasty without milk."
Schillie.—"For goodness sake, brats, don't be so rash, it's rank poison."
Mother, Madame, and a whole Chorus.—"Then, what good is it to us?"
Schillie.—"Well! don't make such a row, and you shall see. Here, Jenny, you and some of the young ladies help me to rasp or scrape it up, but, for your life don't let it touch the skin, or you may die, but, at all events, you may get blisters on your hands."
Mother(very cross).—"How can you be so absurd, Schillie, as to bring such a dangerous thing amongst the children?"
Schillie.—"Now, pray, keep yourself quiet until I have hurt one of them. You told me to make discoveries, and this is a superb one. Now, we have got a good heap. Fetch a cloth, Jenny, pop it in; nowhold one while I hold the other, and twist and squeeze as if Master Felix's life depended thereon. And now behold."
So opening the cloth we discovered some nice white flowery-looking stuff, which she declared was tapioca, and which we discovered made most excellent bread. We really voted this discovery of the cassada root quite a grand discovery, though I was always very fidgety about the poisonous milk in it. But the loaves made from the flower were delicious. She, of course, had many more things to show us, but I will only take one from each of us. Sybil had been indefatigable in her search for hemp, and had found a species of grass, which she had beaten between two stones in the water, and it had spread into innumerable fine threads, so that hers was a most valuable discovery. Serena had found a perfect horde of turtle's eggs, besides eggs innumerable of all kinds of birds. Gatty, we all knew, could not have discovered much, for she had been running from one Mother to another, flying off again to the girls, helping the little ones in innumerable difficulties, and doing anything but minding her own duties. However, nothing undaunted, she opened an apology for a handkerchief, and out waddled a large odd crab, for which Schillie greatly applauded her, and said she would have him boiled for supper. "But I have discovered something else," said Gatty, with a mischievous twinkling of her eyes, and opening a paper box, out sprang a horrible spider, three inches round I amsure, black and hairy, faintly spotted. Madame and Sybil fled, the little ones shrieked, Schillie scolded, and in the midst of the uproar the spider bolted, and peace was restored. Zoë had discovered a beautiful species of jessamine tree, most fragrant in smell, and on which, for a wonder, there were no insects whatever, and she therefore supposed it must be something good.
We found out that no ants would touch the wood, so it proved very useful to us. Winny bent and quivered under the weight of an enormous curiously-shaped gourd, and triumphantly declared her discovery was nearly as big as the little Mother's. "But it is no discovery, little one," said Serena, "for we have had gourds before." "But it is a discovery," persisted the little one, "for it is such a big fellow, and it has a growing in and a growing out, quite unlike the others." So we thanked her warmly, and Jenny said she was and had been undone to possess a gourd of that very particular shape. Lilly had discovered so many wonderful things (upon supposition) that we contented ourselves with thanking her for some large and useful shells which would serve for many purposes. The boys had been so intent on manufacturing fishing lines that they had spent their time wandering vaguely about, hoping fishing lines would fall from the skies for them, but as no such thing happened, they had pulled long hairy lines from the cactuses, and they had also brought in their pockets a fruit like an apple outside, but it was full of an insipid kind of custard. Jenny had gotsome sand for scouring her floors and kettles, also she said she had got a plant that looked like one in an old book she had, from which they made soap. This we found correct, and it proved a most valuable discovery; it was called the soap-wort. Hargrave had contented herself with gathering the most beautiful flowers she could see, at the same time bewailing over their rapid destruction, only wishing that they were artificial ones that she might ornament the young ladies' dresses. It was on this day that my discovery consisted of the cinnamon tree. But all this will appear tedious, so I will go on to the time when we were roused from our discoveries, pretty walks, out-door amusements, and healthy exercise, by a terrific thunder storm.
We had become somewhat accustomed to the storms, and, though this one was terrific, and also followed by no interval of sunshine to break us in for the wet weather, yet our condition was so greatly ameliorated, we thought but little of it. Our house was waterproof even when the rain came down like the sea itself pouring over us. The wind was furious, but the nook we had selected was most sheltered, and, but for the uproar it made among the trees, we should have hardly known the real extent of the hurricane. Sometimes the thunder cracking over our heads awoke us in the night, and we congregated together for companionship and comfort. In the day-time we were very busy; I was inventing a spinning wheel; Schillie and the girls concocting chessmen; the boys knocking up shelves, seats, and boxes; the maids labouring through a perfect haycock of rent clothes and damaged stockings; somebody always singing, and sometimes that somebody was everybody. In the evening, Madame played, and everybody danced for an hour by the light of one candle; when breathless and tired, stories were told, each taking itin turn. A quick and pleasant three weeks passed, for which we daily thanked the Giver of all good.
When the sun shone once more our occupations were innumerable, leaving us no leisure from early morn, until the darkness came. What with gardening, lessons, manufacturing food and clothes, we had our hands full. It was astonishing to see how active the young ones were in turning everything to use; how quick and clever they became in all sorts of ways that belonged more to older heads. It is true there were some symptoms of fine ladyism that grumbled at washing clothes, grinding sand, and cleaning up dirty dishes; the latter was carried to so great a height that Zoë and Lilly came to me with a flat refusal to wash the breakfast plates. "Why?" said I. "Because they are so dirty," said they. "Very well," said I, "you need not do it." But they never objected again to any work, for their dirty plates were put before them, without any remark, each day, until they washed them of their own accord; and the elder girls let slip no opportunity of commenting upon fine ladies, who expressed great anxiety to help others, but must have the plates cleaned before they could wash or wipe them, and supposed they must have people to sweep the way before them, others to hand their food to their mouths. In fact, the irony ran so high, and was felt so sorely, that a private petition was sent in to have it stopped. This I was most glad to do, for our meals had been rendered a little unpleasant by mortified tears bedewing the face of thegentle Zoë, while indignant sobs and haughty looks betokened the harassed feelings of the high-spirited Lilly.
As may be supposed, we had many conversations regarding our future fate, and the probability of passing our days in this island.
Mother.—"It is the idea which always makes me so anxious, Schillie, to retain every possible memorial of our civilized life. Should our children and their descendants remain on this island, they will live to thank the Mother who worries you so with all the spinning, weaving, and other inventions that tease you."
Schillie.—"So you expect the children to marry, do you? Well, there will be plenty of old maids left to keep up the civilized art of scandal, seeing there are but two husbands for these six girls."
Felix.—"Don't call me a husband, cousin Schillie, for I don't intend to marry."
Oscar.—"I don't mind marrying Gatty, because she will go out shooting with me."
Schillie.—"And what has set you against matrimony, you imp of mischief?"
Felix.—"Why I don't like being called grandfather, and so I won't marry and have grandchildren."
This unfortunate announcement drew upon him the fate he wished to avoid, and, spite of his indignation, and tears, "grandfather" became hissobriquetuntil they were tired of the joke.
But we renewed our conversation, and, though I used my best arguments, and had Madame on my side, and though the battle waxed hot and loud, and was oft renewed between us, I never could get Schillie to allow that it was of the slightest use our thus exerting ourselves. This surprised me a good deal, for she had so much plain good sense, and was so naturally clever, and gifted with such brains for invention and concoction, that I expected to find her the champion of my plans, instead of the damper she proved. The hot and relaxing climate might have had some effect on her constitution, or the good hope she always carried about with her that we were not to remain here for ever, might make her reluctant to take trouble for nothing.
But it proved always in the end, the more busy and interested we were in our occupations the quicker time went, and less of it was spent in those vain regrets and idle wishes that left wounds on the heart which nothing could heal.
In justice, I must say, when fairly roused, none worked so hard or so well and the little workpeople had to look sharply about them when she was in superintendence.
She was in a cross mood one day, when she discovered me writing.
Schillie.—"What can you be doing, June?"
Mother(hesitating a little).—"I am writing a journal."
Schillie.—"Now, pray, tell me for what purpose."
Mother.—"It will be interesting to us to recur to some day; or it will serve to enlighten our own descendants, should we never leave this place."
Schillie.—"Well, I could not think you would be so absurd. Who wants to recall this horrible time; or what possible interest can you put into the details of such a life as ours."
Mother.—"I grant it's very difficult, but you are at liberty to look at it."
Schillie(reading).—"Ha! a thunderstorm (very interesting). Another (truly pathetic). Felix ill (the dear pet, how sorry his grandchildren will be to hear it). Gatty in mischief (when is she ever out of it?) Schillie worked the most of all (and what has she got to do besides?) Very merry tea (what a fib, when we have had no tea this month). Sybil so amiable (yes, quite mawkishly so). Our dear captain (good me! what a monody). The good Smart (perfect epitaphs over them all, pity they are not in rhyme). Well, June, of all the nonsense I ever read your journal seems the crown thereof."
Mother.—"I don't pretend to write anything amusing, for how can I with so few incidents; only I wished to keep a sort of journal."
Schillie.—"It seems to me nothing but about the children, how they were naughty and how they got good again. Why don't you write the geologicalstructure of the island, the botanical history, and a whole account of the birds and beasts."
Mother.—"That I leave for your abler head and pen."
Schillie.—"Then it will never be done. I hate the place so much, I would not record a single thing about it."
Mother.—"If that is the case, leave my poor journal alone. I grant it is everything you say, dull, stupid, and monotonous, nevertheless, I have a fancy to keep it."
Schillie.—"Then, pray, indulge your fancy, and, in addition to keeping your journal, keep it locked up, for it is quite enough to endure all the children's twaddle, without writing it down."
My spinning-wheel answered remarkably well; but all my spinning was of little avail, as we had no idea of weaving. Schillie promised if she was not bothered by having to build more houses, she would try her hand at inventing a weaving machine the next rainy season. Luckily my yarn or thread was as coarse as needs be, and answered very well for crocheting and knitting. In both these arts we became wonderfully skilful; sewed crochet boots and shoes, while others knitted petticoats and jackets, so that we were in no particular fear that when our present clothes failed we should become a tribe of white savages. The children grew like the vegetation, and Gatty stalked over the ground like a young Patagonian. We had no lack of food, though we had neither beef or mutton, but poultry,birds, fish, eggs, and turtle, with innumerable vegetables and fruits, were surely enough for our simple party. In the midst of our many avocations, sighs and tears would arise for those we loved; neither could the the affection we bore each other, and the peaceful, useful, and happy lives we led, obliterate from our minds all we had lost. It was no uncommon thing, especially on Sunday, for us to collect round a favourite tree, and talk of and picture to ourselves what was passing at each home. In remembering the simple stedfast faith of my Father, the hopeful, sweet, loving nature of my Mother, I could not but think that through their virtues we might hope for a restoration to home. As the sins of the parents are visited on the children, so are their virtues means of showering blessings to the third and fourth generation. Was it possible that we were to be finally severed from the world for ever? all the comforts of civilized life fresh in our minds and thoughts. And here I sometimes paused, thinking to myself should we be restored in a few years, in what sort of state and condition should I deliver up each of my precious charges to their parents. I could not disguise from myself that their present mode of life was not suited for the highly-bred and polished youth of the nineteenth century. Madame, I must say, whatever employment they were about, from cutting down a tree to washing and peeling potatoes, never failed to inculcate a ladylike way of doing either employment, and spared no pains to make them as accomplished and graceful as our limited means afforded her.
Sybil was naturally so feminine and elegant that no rough work could spoil her. Serena had a bounding springing freedom of action that befitted a graceful young savage, and was too healthful and pretty to make any act one not suiting to her; while that dear young leviathan, Gatty, could have been graceful nowhere, though beaming with health and strength; how she did grow, and how she found out she was stronger than the little Mother, and how she teased her in consequence, enticing her upon little shelves of rock, under pretence of having discovered a new plant, and then keeping her there, though I might be calling for my lost companion until I was hoarse. Mischievous Gatty, and yet good and loving as she was mischievous. Serena managed her admirably, and could make her do whatever she liked; and it was pretty to see the sylph-like girl holding the great strong powerful Gatty in awe, lecturing her in a gentle, grave, simple way, with a sweet low voice, that murmured like a stream. Sybil might talk of duty, and "you ought" and "you ought not," until her fair face was flushed with talking, but she either found herself showered over with insects, or laid gently on the greensward, or swung up into a branch of a tree, from which she feared to jump down. No mercy had Gatty upon the gentle soft Sybil. The only one among the children who did not seem happy was Oscar. He had no boy of his own age to associate with in boyish pastimes; he was brought prematurely forward, from being the eldest male of our company; he had been passionately attached to his home, and hecould bear no allusion to it, or the probability of not seeing it again, without being seriously unhappy for the day. Fond as they were of each other, his brother was too young to enter into the feelings that were unnaturally old, because forced on him.
If Schillie and Gatty devoted themselves to him for a day, he seemed more happy, but he loved to mope about by himself with his gun; and while he grew tall and strong, his face was pale, and his brow thoughtful beyond his years. Many were my anxious thoughts about him, and I lamented a thousand times having suffered Smart to leave, for he would at all events have been some sort of companion to him. Of all our party, he certainly was the only one who invariably remained grave and quiet, whatever might be the pleasantries in which we indulged.
Madame talked for an hour upon the dreadful fact of having no new music for the girls, and used the same phrases and words concerning there being no shop to buy a new cap as she did to the anxieties we had endured and the fears that others must be enduring for us.
Her horror at having no chemist near to make up her tonic mixture equalled the horror she felt at what had become of our companions, or seeing the girls do anything inconsistent to her notions as befitting young ladies caused her as dreadful a shock as the thunder.She was afflicted with fits of dying perpetually, which we remedied the best way we could, generally finding out that a long confidential talk about her sorrows, making her will, and confiding her last wishes to us, restored her as soon as any other recipe. But she was so good, and so fond of the children, that Madame had but to speak to have us all her messengers; even Schillie succumbed to her when the dying fit came on, matter of fact as she was, and scolding me as she did for giving in to it. I had exhausted all my efforts at consolation in one fit, and sent in Schillie to take my place.
"Well, Madame," began Schillie, in a great, stout, hearty, anti-invalidish voice, "better, of course, you are, I see."
Madame(in a faint whisper).—"Ah, my dear Madam, my dear kind friend, I may say now I am going to leave you."
The great Voice.—"I am proud to be your friend always, Madame, but it's all nonsense talking of leaving us. Why you look as well and rosy——"
Madame(a little hysterical).—"Fever, dear Mrs. E., all fever; my poor frame cannot support this long."
The Voice.—"Fever, is it? Let me count your pulse. Very good pulse, rather weak I should say. Take a glass of port wine and you will be all right."
Madame.—"Dear friend, your robust frame knows not what it is to suffer. Ah, the agonies I endure, the insupportable suffering!"
Schillie(a little softer).—"Rheumatism, I dare say;I have it sometimes in my knees, and it is very aggravating."
Madame.—"Alas, alas, would that it were; but I must not lose my precious moments, I must try to speak while I am able."
Schillie.—"Don't hurry, don't hurry, dear Madame. I have nothing to do at present, I can wait as long as you like."
Madame.—"Dear Mrs. E., thanks, but it is I, it is my time that is so short."
Schillie.—"Oh, come, come, that's all nonsense. I see no symptoms of dying about you. Indeed you look better than I have seen you for ages."
Madame.—"It's all deception. My time has come, dear friend, and to you I wish to confide my last wishes."
Schillie.—"But I never can keep a secret. Don't confide anything to me."
Madame.—"They are not secrets. I only wish to confide my beloved little ones to your care after I am gone."
Schillie.—"But I hate children, Madame. June will take care of them."
Madame.—"Ah, I know she will; but she is so fond, so tender a Mother, she sees no faults in them. There is my darling Sybil, she is certainly, if a human being can be, faultless."
Schillie.—"She is a very good soul in her way, Madame, but shockingly untidy."
Madame.—"But her lovely smile, her sweet engagingmanners. My Serena is something like her, but, being so much with Gertrude, she is a little less ladylike in manners than I could wish. Could you, dear Mrs. E., just hint to her when I am gone——"
Schillie.—"Oh, good lack! no, Madame, I can hint nothing. I'll tell her you thought her unladylike if you wish; but I think both she and Gatty are first-rate Girls. They are afraid of nothing, and your pattern, Sybil, jumps at a spider."
Madame.—"Dear angel! I must go on. My lovely Zoë will certainly have a poke if she is not watched."
Schillie.—"I'll poke her up always, Madame, I promise you, for your sake."
Madame.—"Thank you, thank you, and my pretty Winifred. Have you not observed how she turns in her right foot?"
Schillie.—"No indeed, Madame, I never observed either right or left foot, but I'll look out, if I remember, for the future."
Madame.—"Thanks, dear friend, I think that is all about my darlings, save Lilly's eyes."
Schillie.—"They are very good eyes, Madame, and neither poke or turn in, which would be a squint I suppose."
Madame.—"They are lovely eyes, of heaven's own blue, but she ruins them by reading no much."
Schillie.—"Well, I'll stop her reading. Anything more Madame?"
Madame.—"Yes, I should like to be buried under trees near our church."
Schillie.—"Very well, I can safely promise that, as I suppose I shall help to dig your grave myself."
Madame then wound up in such a pathetic manner that Schillie was obliged to have recourse to her pocket handkerchief, and came blubbering out of the room, muttering that though she believed she was only an old humbug she would be very sorry if the old lady really died.
She was only just recovering this fit one very sultry day when we carried her to the edge of the cliff to catch a breath of air if she could. It was so extremely hot we could do nothing, and therefore lay beside her, instead of leaving a little girl in attendance as usual. We fancied something must be about to occur, for every breath seemed as if drawing in hot air. I, with what Schillie called my usual fidgetiness, was imagining horror upon horrors, when, suddenly looking at the sea, we beheld it rise and fall as if one tremendous wave passed over it. Almost immediately the whole island seemed to tremble under our feet, a rumbling and at the same time crashing sound quite surrounded us. "An earthquake," cried some, while all sprang to their feet. A breathless silence ensued, but all nature seemed as if nothing had occurred. "The house," said Schillie. "The boys!" I exclaimed. We flew down headlong towards the rocks from which they usually fished. Not a trace of them or the rocks, the sea was boiling beyond what we had never seen covered before. I satstupidly down on the sands, as if waiting for the waves to cast my sons up at my feet.
"They may not have been fishing," said Schillie. I did not heed her until the sharp cry of a child in pain struck on my ear. We rushed towards the place, and found Oscar supporting his brother, who was screaming violently. They were alive; all other things seemed to me as nothing. As I took him in my arms, Oscar told me that, finding the fish would not bite, and feeling excessively tired, they had agreed to go to a shady ledge on the rocks, and sleep for an hour. He was awakened by a strange noise, as well as being thrown rather violently from the place where he lay; opening his eyes, he beheld Felix some feet below him, lying apparently dead. He ran and picked him up, and throwing some water on his face from the brook near which they had lain down, in the course of some minutes he opened his eyes and knew his brother, but on moving he shrieked with pain. Oscar wrung his hands, and cried as he said, "Oh, Mother, Mother, what is the matter, will he die? Who has hurt him? What has happened? Oh my brother, my brother, I should die for my Felix." The sight of Oscar's distress caused a cessation in Felix's screams. He put out one little hand, and said, "Don't cry, Otty, I'll bear it, only don't cry so." "Bear what, my darling," said I, "where are you hurt?" "I am hurted all about, Mama; but is it a snake that has eaten me, or who killed me? I'll be a man, dear Otty. I'll not scream any more, if youwill only not cry so, because I shall cry, I know I shall, I must cry just a little, but it is not the pain." As he tried thus to comfort his brother, the colour fled from his cheeks, his eyes closed, the rosy lips paled, he fell back in my arms motionless. I thought he was dead, but he was in my arms, the wild waves had him not for their prey; could it be possible that I felt comforted as I clasped him closer? Wine was brought, water poured on his face; and, as we laid him on the sward, his right arm fell in an unnatural position. It was broken. Stripping off his clothes, and carefully examining, we found him bruised in various places, but no other bones injured save the collar bone. Schillie set both arm and collar bone. We bandaged them as well as we could, and then carefully carrying him to the old tent place, we did our best to restore him to consciousness. In this we succeeded; and, though for many days he lay in a dangerous fever, once that was subdued he grew well astonishingly fast. The arm reunited perfectly, but the collar bone retains a lump on it to this day.
The first symptom he gave us of returning health and strength was in a conversation he had with his beloved Jenny, who was so occupied in nursing him her attentions to us were of the most scanty kind. Imagine a little figure, clothed in a little white gown, his arm and shoulder bandaged up, lying on a lot of cushions. The smallest little white face peeped out from a mass of hair, and a little brown monkey, with aface about the same size, watches the different clouds of restlessness or pleasure that passed over the little white face with a curious mixture of wonder and curiosity. Jenny appears with a dish and exposes it to view. The little invalid, with a lordly air, surveys his dinner.
Felix.—"A nasty chicken again, Jenny."
Jenny.—"Oh, Sir, I have roasted it to a turn, and here is egg sauce."
Felix.—"Then give me the egg sauce, and you may have the chicken. I wish chickens were never invented."
Jenny.—"Would you like a duck, Sir?"
Felix.—"No, duck is nastier. I want a mutton chop, Jenny."
Jenny.—"But I have not got one, Sir."
Felix.—"Then a beefsteak."
Jenny.—"Indeed, I wish I could get one for you, Sir."
Felix.—"Well, I don't mind, just for once, eating some boiled leg of mutton."
Jenny.—"Oh, my darling, then you must want mutton very bad, and you know there is not such a thing on the island."
Felix.—"Then it's a bad place, and I wish we were away, having nothing but chickens and chickens, ducks and ducks, until we shall all crow and quack."
Jenny.—"Oh, don't, Sir, don't go for to move, and get in such a passion, you'll displace the bones, and make your Mama so unhappy."
Felix.—"I am sure nobody is so unhappy as me; and as for your chicken, there——"
And with a kick of the little impudent foot away went the chicken out of its dish into Jenny's face, who forgave her darling on the spot; nay, even came to us for congratulations on his recovery. "For," says she, "he is as impudent as ever he was when well, and is that not a good sign, Ma'am."
Schillie.—"Wash the remains of the chicken off your face, Jenny, and then I'll tell you my opinion."
The fact that our beloved island was subject to earthquakes disturbed us considerably. Storms we began to think quite common, hurricanes nothing, rain but another mode for enjoyment; but to be swallowed up by the earth, by the very land that had proved a haven to us when storm-beset and wave-tossed, seemed an infliction not to be got over.
For some time we imagined every noise a rumbling earthquake, the swift running feet of the children as if the house was coming down, the noisy thumping of the washing stones as indicative of the rocks falling over us. This induced us to think, much to Schillie's horror, of seeking a new abode during the very hot weather on a smooth plain where no rocks could cover us, nor trees fall on us, though we could not prevent the earth opening her mouth and swallowing us up.
In one of our exploring parties for this purpose we came upon the site and signs of an old habitation, evidently having been a substantial and large dwelling, with remains of garden and palisade. We know nothow it escaped the observation of our kind captain, unless from the fact that it lay on the open plain, and just before it was a plantation of trees, so that, unless you walked across the plain, and went behind the trees, you would see nothing of it; and they being able to see all across, doubtless thought it labour lost to investigate what seemed open before them.
Here we fancied had been the lair of the great serpent, from the close smell and other circumstances about the place; but it was with feelings rather akin to awe that we investigated a place built by other hands than our own. Feeling so assured, as we did, that no mortal was on the island, or apparently had been, but ourselves, we had begun to think really that it was our own, risen out of the sea for us alone, so that Schillie was for a time the only one who took a matter-of-fact view of this appearance to us "Robinson Crusoes" of "Friday's foot." She declared it had been deserted twenty years and more, and that the roof was a very bad one at the very beginning of it, and not on such a good plan as ours; that certainly she descried a new lichen on the walls, which she went to fetch, and proved herself correct; finally, that there might be some lock-up place within, giving us a clue to the former inhabitants. We accordingly searched, and found various articles of clothing and furniture, evidently of foreign manufacture. Everything was covered some inches thick with a fine sand, which caused insufferable choking and sneezing to those who were heedless. It seemed very apparent that the house had been quitted suddenly,or that something had caused great disorder and confusion. After wasting a great deal of time, talking, thinking, and conjecturing, we at last came to the conclusion that, with some trouble, we might make it a very tidy house, and that we would proceed systematically to clean it, and make it fit for the use of such august people as we were; and, being governed by the soul of honour, every article looking like private property was carefully put away, in case the real owners should arrive, though there was many a thing that would have been rather useful to us. Some books in the Spanish language we kept, as the girls and I thought to amuse ourselves during the next rainy season in teaching ourselves Spanish. "Mighty silly," says Schillie, "taking such unnecessary trouble, as who knows but that there may be nobody to talk to ere long even in English." This old house was very low, and full of rents and holes; also, we discovered that, though on a plain, it was so contrived nobody could perceive it was a habitation unless close to it. From two sides it was quite hidden by trees, though not close to them, from the third side it looked like part of the plantation, and from the fourth side it seemed to be part and parcel of a mound and clump of rocks close by. It had five rooms in it, two not much bigger than closets. Altogether we agreed our new abode had not the open, frank, handsome air of our own home, with its wide-spread doorless entrance, but looked rather like the covered den of people wishing to keep themselves concealed and out of sight. However, we usedit in all openness and fairness, and whatever might have been the character of its last inhabitants, we kept open house, never closing the great iron-plated door or the barred shutters; also, we misdoubted they could have been good people, as there was nothing feminine to be found about the place. Nevertheless, we lived in great comfort, and every evening somebody told a new romance as to what had been the fate of the lost and gone, until we wove a history about them, equal to any fairy story ever told, winding up with one from Felix, who, after giving various touching descriptions as to their numerous qualities and perfections, declared that they died one by one. "How?" said the little girls, looking aghast at such an abrupt conclusion. "They disappeared," said Felix, "one every night." "But that's no story, how did they disappear?" "Oh, you must guess, my story is a riddle." So they guessed and guessed, but, becoming no wiser, they clamourously called on him to tell. "But if you don't guess," said Felix, "how can I tell, for not one of them was left alive." "You are a stupid boy," said Lilly, "and tell a very bad story." "Yours was a much badderer, and you are a stupid girl not to guess that the big snake eat them all up." "Well done, well done," said everybody, "a very good idea. I dare say it did happen." So then we fell upon conjecturing what we should have done to save ourselves under similar circumstances, which gave rise to so many bloody-minded schemes and horrible intentions of torture, that no respectable snake would have ventured near us.