Deerbrook. Harriet Martineau

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      Chapter Eight.

      Child’s Play.

       Table of Contents

      The afternoon arrived when the children were to have their feast in the summer-house. From the hour of dinner the little people were as busy as aldermen’s cooks, spreading their table. Sydney thought himself too old for such play. He was hard at work, filling up the pond he had dug in his garden, having tried experiments with it for several weeks, and found that it never held water but in a pouring rain. While he was occupied with his spade, his sisters and the little Rowlands were arranging their dishes, and brewing their cowslip-tea.

      “Our mamma is coming,” said Fanny to Matilda: “is yours?”

      “No; she says she can’t come—but papa will.”

      “So will our papa. It was so funny at dinner. Mr. Paxton came in, and asked whether papa would ride with him; and papa said it was out of the question; it must be to-morrow; for he had an engagement this afternoon.”

      “A very particular engagement, he said,” observed Mary: “and he smiled at me so, I could not help laughing. Fanny, do look at Matilda’s dish of strawberries! How pretty!”

      “There’s somebody coming,” observed little Anna, who, being too young to help, and liable to be tempted to put her fingers into the good things, was sent to amuse herself with jumping up and down the steps.

      “There now! That is always the way, is not it, Miss Young?” cried Fanny. “Who is it, George? Mr. Enderby? Oh, do not let him come in yet! Tell him he must not come this half-hour.”

      Mr. Enderby chose to enter, however, and all opposition gave way before him.

      “Pray don’t send me back,” said he, “till you know what I am come for. Now, who will pick my pockets?”

      Little Anna was most on a level with the coat pocket. She almost buried her face in it as she dived, the whole length of her arm, to the very bottom. George attacked its fellow, while the waistcoat pockets were at the mercy of the taller children. A number of white parcels made their appearance, and the little girls screamed with delight.

      “Miss Young!” cried Fanny, “do come and help us to pick Mr. Enderby’s pockets. See what I have got—the very largest of all!”

      When every pocket had been thoroughly picked without Miss Young’s assistance, the table did indeed show a goodly pile of white cornucopia—that most agitating form of paper to children’s eyes. When opened, there was found such a store of sweet things as the little girls had seldom before seen out of the confectioner’s shop. Difficulties are apt to come with good fortune; and the anxious question was now asked, how all these dainties were to be dished up. Miss Young was, as usual, the friend in need. She had before lent two small china plates of her own; and she now supplied the further want. She knew how to make pretty square boxes out of writing-paper; and her nimble scissors and neat fingers now provided a sufficiency of these in a trice. Uncle Philip was called upon, as each was finished, to admire her skill; and admire he did, to the children’s entire content.

      “Is this our feast, Mr. Enderby?” inquired Mary, finally, when Anna had been sent to summon the company. “May we say it is ours?”

      “To be sure,” cried Fanny. “Whose else should it be?”

      “It is all your own, I assure you,” said Mr. Enderby. “Now, you two should stand at the head of the table, and Matilda at the foot.”

      “I think I had better take this place,” said Sydney, who had made his appearance, and who thought much better of the affair now that he saw Mr. Enderby so СКАЧАТЬ