Read Golden Moments Page 4

herself.

  The pond where the duck and ducklings lived had a little waterfall atone end, and then it became a little stream, and ran over pebbles undera bridge, and wandered away into the fields with a border offorget-me-nots.

  Little Me was very fond of this stream, and one day Tommy persuaded herto take off her shoes and socks and walk through the stream with him.This was very delightful; but when they were just in the middle of thestream there came in sight some cows, and a boy and man driving them.

  Now, if there was one thing Little Me dreaded more than another it wascows; and her ideas of propriety were greatly shocked at the idea of astrange man and boy seeing her bare feet, so she raced back to her shoesand socks, picked them up, and tumbled over a stile as fast as hershort, fat little legs could go, and hid behind a hedge, all out ofbreath.

  There poor Little Me crouched till she heard the last slow step of thelast cow plash through the stream, where some of them stopped to drink,and the sound of voices died away over the bridge; then in much hurryand alarm she thrust her wet little feet into her damp socks, which shehad in her fright dropped into the water, and the wet feet and sockswere hastily put into the shoes, and Little Me again climbed the stileto join her brother, to whom she was ashamed to own that she had beenafraid of the cows.

  Being a city child, and not a very strong one, Little Me was unused towet feet, and she caught a bad cold, which ended by her spending manydays in bed; but the boys brought her flowers, and Mrs. White made hermany little loaves and cakes, and gave her honey and cream, andaltogether Me thought being ill at a farmhouse much better than beingwell in the city.

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  OSCAR AND BRUNO.

  When we were living in a very remote part of Northumberland, in an oldhouse that had once been a monastery, we had two large dogs named Oscarand Bruno.

  Oscar, who was a Newfoundland with a bit of the retriever in him, hadbeen especially trained to take the water and to secure the game whenshot among the deep pools.

  Bruno, on the other hand, was a huge mastiff, who was kept to guard thehouse; gentle and docile to those whom he knew, but woe betide thesuspicious-looking stranger who approached the house--his growl wasenough to frighten the stoutest-hearted beggar in the world.

  My father thought Bruno was getting a little lazy, so proposed to takehim down to the river with Oscar. I was to accompany them, and see poorold Bruno have a bath.

  The river was not very broad, narrow enough to be spanned by an oldwooden bridge, but it was very deep in the centre.

  Bruno floundered about, and at last got into the deep centre current,and, to my horror, I saw he was losing strength and sinking. I shoutedto father that Bruno was drowning. He called to Oscar, "Save yourfriend, Oscar!" And the faithful creature seemed to grasp the situation,for he swam out to Bruno, and taking hold of his strong leather collarbetween his teeth, he lifted his head and shoulders out of the water. Ieagerly watched them, for Bruno was very heavy, and it looked as if poorOscar would not have strength to land his friend.

  Father encouraged Oscar, for I saw the fear in his face too; and makingone supreme effort, struggling and panting, Oscar brought Bruno intoshallow water. In a few minutes Oscar was all right, but poor old Brunowas long before he came to himself. His devotion to Oscar after that wasbeautiful to see, and they were firmer and truer friends everafterwards.

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  A LITTLE KNOWLEDGE.

  Tom was one of those boys who, being fairly quick and clever, think theyknow everything and can do everything without being taught. Now, howeverquick and clever a boy or girl may be, this is a great mistake, becauseit is wiser and safer to profit by the experience of an older personthan to learn by one's own experience. But Tom always knew beforehandanything that his father or mother could tell him; and the result wasthat he often found himself in the wrong, and more than once sufferedfor his conceit and self-sufficiency.

  Tom had lived in London all his life, with only occasional visits to theseaside and a few days in the country at Christmas, when his father andmother usually went on a visit to his uncle's house at Felford. He wastherefore much excited when at breakfast one morning, just after theMidsummer holidays had begun, his mother handed a letter across thetable to her husband, asking, "What do you think of _that_?"

  Tom's quick eyes saw that the writing was his uncle's. He watched, andsaw his father and mother both glance at him.

  "Well, Tom, I see you have your suspicions about this letter," said hisfather; "and you are right. It _does_ concern you. Your uncle has askedyou to go to Felford. Your aunt and the little ones will be away; butyour uncle will be at home, and Allan will be there to keep you company.Now, do you think you can be trusted to go alone, and not give youruncle any trouble, or lead Allan into mischief?"

  "Why, of course, Father!" Tom answered readily.

  "I am sorry to say there is no 'of course' in the matter; but you cantry this once, and I hope it may be as you say. But you must rememberthat your uncle is very strict, and that you will not be allowed"--

  "Oh, I know!" said Tom, but his father stopped him.

  "If you say that to me again I shall not let you go to your uncle's. Ifyou know so well, you ought to practise what you know, and give lessanxiety to your mother and me."

  At last the day came. His father saw him off at the station; and, aftera journey of two hours, Tom arrived at the Felford station, and foundhis uncle's wagon had come to meet him, and Allan was in it. The boyshad much to say to each other; for they had not met for some months, andwere always good friends, Allan being only eight months younger thanTom. Allan had much to tell of their plans for enjoyment while Tom wasat Felford, and among other pleasant things, there was to be a villagecricket match, in which Allan was to play.

  "And you, too, Tom," he said, for he never doubted his cousin's powers."It won't be a very grand match, you see, but it will be capital fun,and the boys play"--

  "Oh, I know!" said Tom.

  "All right: that will be capital," said Allan; and Tom, who had neverheld a bat in his life, found himself engaged to play in the match.

  "But I shall find it quite easy," he thought. "I've seen it played, andthe boys at school seem to find it simple enough."

  His uncle was out riding when Tom reached Felford, having had businessto attend to, so the boys at once went out into the garden and inspectedthe scene of the future cricket match.

  Tom looked at it a moment, then visions of Lords came before him, and hesaid decidedly, "It wants rolling dreadfully!"

  "Father said it was too dry to roll," said Allan, in rather a melancholytone. "You see, if"--

  "Oh, I know!" interrupted Tom; "but we might try to roll it ourselves,don't you know. That would be fun, and it would surprise him. Is there aroller anywhere?"

  "Yes, the small garden-roller; but Father said"--

  "Oh, I know!" said Tom impatiently. "Let us fetch it."

  Allan said no more. It was clear that Tom did not intend to listen toanything he had to say.

  "Do you know how to use the roller?" asked Allan.

  "I should hope so! Any one must know that," said Tom; and away they wentto fetch it.

  Now, there is a right way and a wrong way to do everything, and agarden-roller should be _pulled_ and not _pushed_, but this Tom did notunderstand; therefore, he set to work with Allan to push the rollerthrough the garden towards the field, while Twinkle, the fox-terrier,followed at their heels.

  A garden-roller is an awkward thing to manage if you don't understandit. The iron handle is heavily weighted, and if pressed down and thenreleased it springs up with great force, owing to the weight with whichit is balanced.

  Tom knew nothing of this; and Allan had never been allowed to touch theroller, so he was as ignorant as Tom. They had paused to draw breath,when Twinkle's bark of delight made Allan exclaim, "There's Father!"

  At that moment
Tom took his arms off the iron handle on which they hadbeen resting, and the handle sprang up. There was a cry from Allan, andTom saw to his horror that one end of the iron bar had struck the boyjust above the eye. It was a painful blow, and the bruise began at onceto discolor and swell, so that by the time his father came up poor Allanwas a piteous object.

  It was a most unfortunate beginning to Tom's visit. Of course his unclewas angry, for the garden-roller was quite useless for the purpose ofrolling the field, and the ground was so hard and dry that no rolling,even with the heaviest horse-roller, would have done any good. Allanwas very sorry for Tom, and took more than a fair share of the blame,saying he ought to have been more careful; but he was rather distressedwhen he found that he had a black eye, and that it could not be wellbefore the cricket match, when the boys would be sure to chaff