CHAPTER VI.
THE LONG LADDER.
There was a young pickle, and what do you think? He liv'd upon nothing but victuals and drink; Victuals and drink were the chief of his diet, And yet this young pickle could never be quiet.
One fine sultry day in the month of August, Harry and Laura stood at thebreakfast-room window, wondering to see the large broken white clouds,looking like curds and whey, while the sun was in such a blaze of heat,that every thing seemed almost red hot. The street door had becomeblistered by the sun-beams. Jowler the dog lay basking on the pavement;the green blinds were closed at every opposite house; the few gentlemenwho ventured out, were fanning themselves with their pockethandkerchiefs; the ladies were strolling lazily along, under theumbrageous shade of their green parasols; and the poor people who wereaccustomed in winter to sell matches for lighting a fire, now carriedabout gaudy paper hangings for the empty grates. Lady Harriet found thebutter so melted at breakfast, that she could scarcely lift it on herknife; and uncle David complained that the sight of hot smoking tea puthim in a fever, and said he wished it could be iced.
"I wonder how iced porridge would taste!" said Harry. "I put mine at theopen window to cool, but that only made it seem hotter. We were talkingof the gentleman you mentioned yesterday, who toasted his muffins at avolcano; and certainly yours might almost be done at the drawing-roomwindow this morning."
"Wait till you arrive at the countries I have visited, where, assomebody remarked, the very salamanders die of heat. At Agra, which isthe hottest part of India, we could scarcely write a letter, because theink dries in the pen before you can get it to the paper. I was obliged,when our regiment was there, to lie down in the middle of the day,during several hours, actually gasping for breath; and to make up forthat, we all rose at midnight. An officer of ours, who lived long inIndia, got up always at three in the morning, after we returned home,and walked about the streets of Portsmouth, wondering what had become ofeverybody."
"I shall try not to grumble about weather any more," said Laura. "Weseem no worse off than other people."
"Or rather we are a great deal better off! At Bermuda, where my regimentstopped on the way to America, the inhabitants are so tormented withhigh winds, that they build 'hurricane houses'--low, flat rooms, wherethe families must retire when a storm comes on, as trees, houses,people, and cattle, are all whirled about with such violence, that not alife is safe on the island while it lasts."
"That reminds me," said Lady Harriet, "of a droll mistake made yesterdayby the African camel, when he landed at Leith. His keepers were leadinghim along the high road to be made a show of in Edinburgh, at a timewhen the wind was particularly high; and the poor animal encounteringsuch clouds of dust, thought this must be a simoon of the desert, andthrew himself flat down, burying his nose in the ground, according tocustom on those occasions. It was with great difficulty that he could atlast be induced to face the danger, and proceed."
"Quite a compliment to our dust," observed Laura. "But really in such ahot day, the kangaroos and tigers might feel perfectly at home here.Oh! how I should like to visit the GEOlogical Gardens in London!"
"Then suppose we set off immediately!" said Major Graham, pretending torise from his chair. "Your grandmama's donkey-carriage holds two."
"Ah! but you could carry the donkey-carriage more easily than it couldcarry you!"
"Shall I try? Well, if we go, who is to pay the turnpikes, for Iremember the time, not a hundred years ago, when Harry and you boththought that paying the gates was the only expense of travelling. Youasked me then how poor grandmama could afford so many shillings andsixpences."
"We know all about every thing now though!" said Harry, nodding in avery sagacious manner. "I can tell exactly how much time it takes goingby the public coach to London, and it sleeps only one night on theroad."
"Sleeps!" cried uncle David. "What! it puts on a night-cap, and goes tobed?"
"Yes! and it dines and breakfasts too, Mr. uncle David, for I heard Mrs.Crabtree say so."
"Never name anybody, unless you wish to see her immediately," said MajorGraham, hearing a well-known tap at the door. "As sure as you mention anabsent person, if he is supposed to be fifty miles off at the time, itis rather odd, but he instantly appears!"
"Then there is somebody that I shall speak about very often."
"Who can this Mr. Somebody be?" asked uncle David, smiling. "A foolishperson that spoils you both I dare say, and gives you large slices ofbread and jelly like this. Hold them carefully! Now, good bye, and joybe with you."
But it was with rather rueful faces that Harry and Laura left the room,wishing they might have remained another hour to talk nonsense withuncle David, and dreading to think what new scrapes and difficultiesthey would get into in the nursery, which always seemed to them a placeof torture and imprisonment.
Major Graham used to say that Mrs. Crabtree should always have athermometer in her own room when she dressed, to tell her whether theweather was hot or cold, for she seemed to feel no difference, andscarcely ever made any change in her own attire, wearing always the samepink gown and scarlet shawl, which made her look like a large redflower-pot, while she was no more annoyed with the heat than aflower-pot would have been. On this very oppressive morning she took asmuch pains in suffocating Harry with a silk handkerchief round his neck,as if it had been Christmas, and though Laura begged hard for leave togo without one of her half-a-dozen wrappings, she might as well haveasked permission to go without her head, as Mrs. Crabtree seemedperfectly deaf upon the subject.
"This day is so very cold and so very shivering," said Harry, slyly,"that I suppose you will make Laura wear at least fifty shawls."
"Not above twenty," answered Mrs. Crabtree, dryly. "Give me no more ofyour nonsense, Master Harry! This is no business of yours! I was in theworld long before you were born, and must know best; so hold yourtongue. None but fools and beggars need ever be cold."
At last Mrs. Crabtree had heaped as many clothes upon her two littlevictims, as she was pleased to think necessary; so she sallied forthwith them, followed by Betty, and proceeded towards the country, takingthe sunny side of the road, and raising clouds of dust at every step,till Harry and Laura felt as if they had been made of wax, and weremelting away.
"Mrs. Crabtree!" said Harry, "did you hear uncle David's funny storyyesterday? One hot morning a gentleman was watching an ant's nest, whenhe observed, that every little insect, as it came out, plucked a smallleaf, to hold over its head, as a parasol! I wish we could find leaveslarge enough for us."
"You must go to the Botanical Gardens, where one leaf of a palm-tree wasshown to grandmama, which measured fourteen feet long," observed Laura."How horrid these very warm countries must be, where the heat is all theyear round like this!"
"You may well say that," answered Mrs. Crabtree. "I would not go to themEast Indies--no! not if I were Governess-General,--to be running awaywith a tiger at your back, and sleeping with real live serpents twistedround the bed-post, and scorpions under your pillow! Catch me there! I'moften quite sorry for Master Frank, to think that his ship is maybegoing that way! I'm told the very rats have such a smell in thatoutlandish place, that if they touch the outside of a bottle with theirtails, it tastes of musk ever after; and when people are sittingcomfortably down, expecting to enjoy their dinner, a swarm of great antswill come, and fall, an inch thick, on all the side-dishes. I've nodesire whatever to see foreign parts!"
"But I wish to see every country in the universe," said Harry; "and Ihope there will be a rail-road all round the world before I am grown up.Only think, Mrs. Crabtree, what fun lion-hunting must be, and catchingdolphins, and riding on elephants."
The pedestrians had now arrived at the pretty village of Corstorphine,when they were unexpectedly met by Peter Grey, who joined them withoutwaiting to ask leave. Here the hills are so beautifully wooded, and thevillas so charming, that Harry, Peter, and Laura stopped a moment, toconsider what house they would like best to live in.
Near one side ofthe road stood a large cart of hay, on the top of which were severalmen, forking it in at the window of a high loft, which could only beentered by a long ladder that leaned against the wall. It was a busyjoyous scene, and soon attracted the children's whole attention, whowere transfixed with delight, seeing how rapidly the people ran up anddown, with their pitchforks in their hands, and tilted the hay from thecart into the loft, while they had many jokes and much laughter amongthemselves. At last their whole business was finished, and the workmendrove away for another supply, to the neighbouring fields, where theyhad been raking and tossing it all morning, as merry as crickets.
"What happy people!" exclaimed Harry, looking wistfully after the party,and wishing he might have scrambled into the cart beside them. "I wouldbe a haymaker for nothing, if anybody would employ me; would not you,Peter?"
"It is very strange," said Master Grey, "why little ladies and gentlemenseem always obliged to endure a perfectly useless walk every day, as youand Laura are doing now. You never saw animals set out to take a strollfor the good of their healths! How odd it would be to see a couple ofdogs set off for a country walk!"
"Miss Laura!" said Mrs. Crabtree, "Master Harry may rest here for aminute or two with Master Peter, and let them count their fingers, whileyou come with Betty and me to visit a sick old aunt of mine who livesround 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-lookingcottage, before Peter turned eagerly to Harry, with a face of great joyand importance, exclaiming, "Only see how very lucky this is! Thehaymakers have left their long ladder, standing on purpose for us! Thewindow of that loft is wide open, and I must climb up immediately topeep in, because never, in all my life, did I see the inside of ahay-loft before!"
"Nor I!" added Harry. "Uncle David says, that all round the floor thereare deep holes, called mangers, down which food is thrown for thehorses, so that they can thrust their heads in, to take a bite, wheneverthey choose."
"How I should hate to have my dinner hung up always before my nose inthat way! Suppose the kitchen were placed above your nursery, and thatMrs. Marmalade showered down tarts and puddings, which were to remainthere till you ate them, you would hate the sight of such things atlast. 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 tofollow. "You never saw such a nice, clean, funny place as this, in allyour life!--make haste!--come faster!--never mind crushing your hat ortearing your jacket,--I'll put it all to rights. Ah! there!--that's thething!--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 hissteps up the ladder, but a most troublesome business it was! First, hisfoot became entangled in a rope,--then his hat got squeezed so out ofshape, it looked perfectly tipsy,--next, one of his shoes nearly cameoff,--and afterwards he dropped his gloves; but at last he stumbled upin safety, and stood beside Peter in the loft, both laughing withdelight at their own enterprize.
The quantity 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 largeball of hay to throw at Peter, while he, in return, aimed at him, sothey ran after each other, round and round the loft, raising such ariot, that the very "rafters dirled."
The hay now flew about in clouds, while they jumped over it, or creptunder it, throwing handfuls about in every direction, and observing thatthis was the best play-room they had ever been in.
"How lucky that we came here!" cried Peter. "I should like to stay anhour at least!"
"Oh! two hours,--or three,--or all day," added Harry. "But what shall wedo about Mrs. Crabtree? She has not gone to settle for life with thatold sick aunt, so I am afraid we must really be hurrying back, in caseshe may find out our expedition, and that, you know, Peter, would bedreadful!"
"Only fancy, Harry, if she sees you and me clinging to the ladder, abouthalf way down! what a way she would be in!"
"We had better make haste," said Harry, looking around. "What wouldgrandmama say!--I wish we had never come up!"
At this moment, Harry was still more brought to his senses, by hearingMrs. Crabtree's voice, exclaiming, in loud angry accents, "Where in allthe world can those troublesome boys be gone! I must tether them to atree the next time they are left together! Why! sure! they would notventure up that long ladder in the hay-loft! If they have, they hadbetter 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 ofit. They can be gone nowhere else, for I have searched every otherplace. We must send the town-crier with his bell after them, if they arenot found up there!"
Mrs. Crabtree now seemed fearfully angry, while Laura began to tremblewith fright for Harry, who was listening overhead, and did not know verywell what to do, but foolishly thought it best to put off the evil hourof being punished as long as possible; so he and Peter silently crept inbelow a great quantity of hay, and hid themselves so cunningly, thateven a thief-catcher could scarcely have discovered their den. In thisdark corner, Harry had time to reflect and to feel more and more alarmedand 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 alwaysfound out, and always so much happier when we are good!"
"I wonder how Mrs. Crabtree will get up the long ladder?" whisperedPeter, laughing. "I would give my little finger, and one of my ears, tosee her and Betty scrambling along!"
Harry had to pinch Peter's arm almost black and blue before he would bequiet; and by the time he stopped talking, Mrs. Crabtree and Betty wereboth standing in the hay-loft, exceedingly out of breath with climbingso unusually high, while Mrs. Crabtree very nearly fell, having stumbledover a step at the entrance.
"Why, sure! there's nobody here!" exclaimed she, in a disappointed tone."And what a disorderly place this is! I thought a hay-loft was alwayskept in such nice order, with the floor all swept! but here is a finemess! Those two great lumps of hay in the corner look as if they weremeant for people to sleep upon!"
Harry gave himself up for lost when Mrs. Crabtree noticed the placewhere he and Peter had buried themselves alive; but to his great relief,no suspicion seemed to have been excited, and neither of the twosearchers were anxious to venture beyond the door, after having sonearly 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 alwaysthought 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 peoplewould either speak sense, or not speak at all! Did you hear a noiseamong the hay?"
"Rats, I dare say! or perhaps a dog!" answered Betty, turning hastilyround, and hurrying down the ladder faster than she had come up. "Icertainly 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 wecatch him."
"You may depend upon it," persisted Betty, "that some gipsey has got theboys for the sake of their clothes. It will be a great pity, becauseMaster Harry had on his best blue jacket and trowsers."
No sooner was the loft cleared of these unwelcome visitors, than Harryand Peter began to recover from their panic, and jumped out of the hay,shaking themselves free from it, and skipping about in greater glee thanever.
While they played about, as they had done before, and tumbled as if theyhad been tumblers at Ducrow's, poor Ha
rry got into such spirits, that hecompletely forgot about the deep holes called mangers, for containingthe horse's food, till all at once, when Peter was running after him, hefell, with a loud crash, headlong into one of them! Oh! what a scream hegave!--it echoed through the stable, terrifying a whole team of horsesthat were feeding there, more particularly the one into whose manger hehad fallen. The horse gave a tremendous start when Harry plunged downclose 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 assist Harry in this extraordinarypredicament, but finding it impossible to be of any use, he forgot theirterror of Mrs. Crabtree in his fears about Harry, and rushed to thewindow, calling back their two pursuers, who were walking away at agreat 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, whenhe saw Mrs. Crabtree panting and toiling in her ascent. "We must make atreaty of peace together, for I could tumble you over in a minute, bymerely pushing this end a very little more to one side!"
"Do not touch it, Master Peter!" cried Mrs. Crabtree, almost afraid hewas in earnest. "There is a good boy,--be quiet!"
"A good boy!!" whispered Peter to himself. "What a fright Mrs. Crabtreemust be in, before she said that!"
The next moment Mrs. Crabtree snatched Harry out of the manger, andshook him with rage. She then scolded and beat him, till he wasperfectly stupified with fright and misery, after which the whole partywere allowed to proceed towards home, while Harry stumbled along theroad, and hung down his head, wishing, fifty times over, that he andPeter Grey had never gone up
THE LONG LADDER.