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  CHAPTER VIII

  THE STORY OF BEOWULF

  Once upon a time there was a great--"

  "Father," interrupted Milly, "I shall soon be getting tired of 'Onceupon a time there was a great king.'"

  "Don't cry till you're hurt, Milly; which means, wait till I get to theend of my sentence. Well, once upon a time there was a great--hero."

  "What is a hero?" asked Olly.

  "I know," said Milly, eagerly, "it's a brave man that's always fightingand killing giants and dragons and cruel people."

  "That'll do to begin with," said Mr. Norton, "though, when you growolder, you will find that people can be heroes without fighting orkilling. However, the man I am going to tell you about was just the kindof hero you're thinking of, Milly. He loved fighting with giants anddragons and wild people, and my story is going to be about two of hisfights--the greatest he ever fought. The name of this hero was Beowulf,and he lived in a country called Sweden (Milly knows all about Sweden,Olly, and you must get her to show it you on the map), with a number ofother brave men who were his friends, and helped him in his battles. Andone day a messenger came over the sea from another country close by,called Denmark, and the messenger said, 'Which of all you brave men willcome over and help my master, King Hrothgar, who is in sore trouble?'And the messenger told them how Hrothgar, for many years past, had beenplagued by a monster--the hateful monster Grendel--half a man and half abeast, who lived at the bottom of a great bog near the king's palace.Every night, he said, Grendel the monster came out of the bog with hishorrible mother beside him--a wolf-like creature, fearful to lookupon--and he and she would roam about the country, killing and slayingall whom they met. Sometimes they would come stalking to the king'spalace, where his brave men were sleeping round the fire in the bighall, and before anyone could withstand him Grendel would fall upon theking's warriors, kill them by tens and twenties, and carry off theirdead bodies to his bog. Many a brave man had tried to slay the monster,but none had been able so much as to wound him.

  "When Beowulf and his friends had heard this story they thought a while,and then each said to the other, 'Let us go across the sea and rid KingHrothgar of this monster.' So they took ship and went across the sea toHrothgar's country, and Hrothgar welcomed them royally, and made a greatfeast in their honour. And after the feast Hrothgar said to Beowulf,'Now, I give over to you the hall of my palace, that you may guard itagainst the monster.' So Beowulf and the brave men who had come overwith him made a great fire in the hall, and they all lay down to sleepbeside it. You may imagine that they did not find it very easy to get tosleep, and some of them thought as they lay there that very likely theyshould never see their homes in Sweden again. But they were tired withjourneying and feasting, and one after another they all fell asleep.Then in the dead of the night, when all was still, Grendel rose up outof the bog, and came stalking over the moor to the palace. His eyesflamed with a kind of horrible light in the darkness, and his stepsseemed to shake the earth; but those inside the palace were sleeping soheavily that they heard nothing, not even when Grendel burst open thedoor of the hall and came in among them. Before anyone had wakened, themonster had seized one of the sleeping men and torn him to pieces. Thenhe came to Beowulf; but Beowulf sprang up out of his sleep and laid holdupon him boldly. He used no sword to strike him, for there was no swordwhich men could make was strong enough to hurt Grendel; but he seizedhim with his strong hands, and the two struggled together in the palace.And they fought till the benches were torn from the walls, andeverything in the hall was smashed and broken. The brave men, springingup all round, seized their swords and would gladly have helped theirlord, but there was no one but Beowulf could harm Grendel.

  "So they fought, till at last Beowulf tore away Grendel's hand and arm,and the monster fled away howling into the darkness. Over the moor herushed till he came to his bog, and there he sank down into the middleof the bog, wailing and shrieking like one whose last hour was come.Then there was great rejoicing at Heorot, the palace, and King Hrothgar,when he saw Grendel's hand which Beowulf had torn away, embraced him andblessed him, and he and all his friends were laden with splendid gifts.

  "But all was not over yet. When the next night came, and Hrothgar's menand Beowulf's men were asleep together in the great hall, Grendel'shorrible mother, half a woman and half a wolf, came rushing to thepalace and while they were all asleep she carried off one of Hrothgar'sdearest friends--a young noble whom he loved best of all his nobles. Andshe killed him, and carried his body back to the bog. Then the nextmorning there was grief and weeping in Heorot; but Beowulf said to theking, 'Grieve not, O king! till we have found out Grendel's mother andpunished her for her evil deeds. I promise you she shall give an accountfor this. She shall not be able to hide herself in the water, nor underthe earth, nor in the forest, nor at the bottom of the sea; let her gowhere she will, I will find a way after her.'

  "So Beowulf and his friends put on their armour and mounted theirhorses, and set out to look for her. And when they had ridden a long andweary way over steep lonely paths and past caves where dragons andserpents lived, they came at last to Grendel's bog--a fearful placeindeed. There in the middle of it lay a pool of black water, and overthe water hung withered trees, which seemed as if they had been poisonedby the air rising from the water beneath them. No bird or beast wouldever come near Grendel's pool. If the hounds were hunting a stag, andthey drove him down to the edge, he would sooner let them tear him topieces than hide himself in the water. And every night the black waterseemed to burn and flame, and it hissed and bubbled and groaned as ifthere were evil creatures tossing underneath. And now when Beowulf andhis men came near it, they saw fierce water dragons lying near the edgeor swimming about the pool. There also, beside the water, they found thedead body of Hrothgar's friend, who had been killed by Grendel's mother,and they took it up, and mourned over him afresh.

  "But Beowulf took an old and splendid sword that Hrothgar had given him,and he put on his golden helmet and his iron war shirt that no swordcould cut through, and when he had bade his friends farewell he leaptstraight into the middle of the bog. Down he sank, deeper and deeperinto the water, among strange water beasts that struck at him with theirtusks as he passed them, till at last Grendel's mother, the water-wolf,looked up from the bottom and saw him coming. Then she sprang upon him,and seized him, and dragged him down, and he found himself in a sort ofhall under the water, with a pale strange light in it. And then heturned from the horrible water-wolf and raised his sword and struck heron the head; but his blow did her no harm. No sword made by mortal mencould harm Grendel or his mother; and as he struck her Beowulf stumbledand fell. Then the water-wolf rushed forward and sat upon him as he laythere, and raised aloft her own sharp dagger to drive it into hisbreast; but Beowulf shook her off, and sprang up, and there, on thewall, he saw hanging a strange old sword that had been made in the oldtimes, long, long ago, when the world was full of giants. So he threwhis own sword aside and took down the old sword, and once more he smotethe water-wolf. And this time his sword did him good service, andGrendel's fierce mother sank down dead upon the ground.

  "Then Beowulf looked round him, and he saw lying in a corner the body ofGrendel himself. He cut off the monster's head, and lo and behold! whenhe had cut it off the blade of the old sword melted away, and there wasnothing left in his hands but the hilt, with strange letters on it,telling how it was made in old days by the giants for a great king. Sowith that, and Hrothgar's sword and Grendel's head, Beowulf rose upagain through the bog, and just as his brave men had begun to think theyshould never see their dear lord more he came swimming to land, bearingthe great head with him.

  "Then Hrothgar and all his people rejoiced greatly, for they knew thatthe land would never more be troubled by these hateful monsters, butthat the ploughers might plough, and the shepherds might lead theirsheep, and brave men might sleep at night, without fear any more ofGrendel and his mother."

  "Oh, father!" said Milly, breathlessly, when he stoppe
d. "Is that all?"

  But Olly sat quite still, without speaking, gazing at his father withwide open brown eyes, and a face as grave and terrified as if Grendelwere actually beside him.

  "That's all for this time," said Mr. Norton. "Why, Olly, where are yourlittle wits gone to? Did it frighten you, old man?"

  "Oh!" said Olly, drawing a long breath. "I did think he would never havecomed up out of that bog!"

  "It was splendid," said Milly. "But, father, I don't understand aboutthat pool. Why didn't Beowulf get drowned when he went down under thewater?"

  "The story doesn't tell us anything about that," said Mr. Norton. "Butheroes in those days, Milly, must have had something magical about themso that they were able to do things that men and women can't do now. Doyou know, children, that this story that you have been listening to ismore than a thousand years old? Can you fancy that?"

  "No," said Milly, shaking her head. "I can't fancy it a bit, father.It's too long. It makes me puzzled to think of so many years."

  "Years and years and years and _years_!" said Olly. "When father'sgrandfather was a little boy."

  Mr. Norton laughed. "Can't you think of anything farther back than that,Olly? It would take a great many grandfathers, and grandfathers'grandfathers, to get back to the time when the story of Beowulf wasmade. And here am I telling it to you just in the same way as fathersused to tell it to their children a thousand years ago."

  "I suppose the children liked it so, they wouldn't let their fathersforget it," said Milly. "And then when they grew up they told it totheir children. I shall tell it to my children when I grow up. I think Ishall tell it to Katie to-morrow."

  "Father," said Olly, "did Beowulf die--ever?"

  "Yes. When he was quite an old man he had another great fight with adragon, who was guarding a cave full of golden treasure on thesea-shore; and though he killed the dragon, the dragon gave him aterrible wound, so that when his friends came to look for him they foundhim lying all but dead in the cave. He was just able to tell them tomake a great mound of earth over him when he was dead, on a high rockclose by, that sailors might see it from their ships and think of himwhen they saw it, and then he died. And when he was dead they carriedhim up to the rock, and there they burned his body, and then they builtup a great high mound of earth, and they put Beowulf's bones inside, andall the treasure from the dragon's cave. They were ten days building upthe mound. Then when it was all done they rode around it weeping andchanting sorrowful songs, and at last they left him there, saying asthey went away that never should they see so good a king or so true amaster any more. And for hundreds of years afterwards, when the sailorsout at sea saw the high mound rising on its point of rock, they said oneto another, 'There is Beowulf's Mount,' and they began to tell eachother of Beowulf's brave deeds--how he lived and how he died, and how hefought with Grendel and the wild sea dragons. There, now, I have toldyou all I know about Beowulf," said Mr. Norton, getting up and turningthe children off his knee, "and if it isn't somebody else's turn now itought to be."

  "Aunt Emma! Aunt Emma!" shouted Olly, who was so greedy for stories thathe could almost listen all day long without being tired.

  But Aunt Emma only smiled through her spectacles and pointed to thewindow. The children ran to look out, and they could hardly believetheir eyes when they saw that it had actually stopped raining, and thatover the tree-tops was a narrow strip of blue sky, the first they hadseen for three whole days.

  "Oh you nice blue sky!" exclaimed Milly, dancing up and down before thewindow with a beaming face. "Mind you stay there and get bigger. We'llget on our hats presently and come out to look at you. Oh! there's JohnBackhouse coming down the hill with the dogs. Mother, may we go upourselves and ask Becky and Tiza to come to tea?"

  "But Aunt Emma must tell us her story first," persisted Olly, who hatedbeing cheated out of a story by anything or anybody. "She promised."

  "You silly boy!" said Aunt Emma, "as if I was going to keep you indoorslistening to stories just now, when the sun's shining for the first timefor three whole days. I promised you my story on a wet day, and youshall have it--never fear. There'll be plenty more wet days before yougo away from Ravensnest, I'm afraid. There goes my knitting, andmother's putting away her work, and father's stretching himself--whichmeans we're all going for a walk."

  "To fetch Becky and Tiza, mother?" asked Milly; and when mother said"Yes, if you like," the two children raced off down the long passage tothe nursery in the highest possible spirits.

  Soon they were all walking along the dripping drive past high banks ofwet fern, and under trees which threw down showers of rain-drops atevery puff of wind. And when they got into the road beside the river thechildren shouted with glee to see their brown shallow little riverturned into a raging flood of water, which went sweeping and hurryingthrough the fields, and every now and then spreading itself over themand making great pools among the poor drowned hay. They ran on to lookfor the stepping-stones, but to their amazement there was not a stone tobe seen. The water was rushing over them with a great roar and swirl,and Milly shivered a little bit when she remembered their bathe there aweek before.

  "Well, old woman," said Mr. Norton, coming up to them, "I don't supposeyou'd like, a bathe to-day--quite."

  "If we were in there now," said Olly, watching the river with greatexcitement, "the water would push us down krick! and the fishes wouldcome and etten us all up."

  "They'd be a long time gobbling you up, Master Fatty," said his father."Come, run along; it's too cold to stand about."

  But how brilliant and beautiful it was after the rain! Little tinytrickling rivers were running down all the roads, and sparkling in thesun; the wet leaves and grass were glittering, and the great mountainsall around stood up green and fresh against the blue sky, as if the rainhad washed the dust off them from top to toe, and left them clean andbright. Two things only seemed the worse for the rain--the hay and thewild strawberries. Milly peered into all the banks along the road whereshe generally found her favourite little red berries, but most of themwere washed away, and the few miserable things that were left tasted ofnothing but rain water. And as for the hay-fields, they looked so wetand drenched that it was hard to believe any sunshine could ever drythem.

  "Poor John Backhouse!" said Aunt Emma; "I'm afraid his hay is a gooddeal spoilt. Aren't you glad father's not a farmer, Milly?"

  "Why, Aunt Emma," said Milly, "I'm always wishing father _was_ a farmer.I want to be like Becky, and call the cows, and mind the baby all bymyself. It must be nice feeding the chickens, and making the hay, andtaking the milk around."

  "Yes, all that's very nice, but how would you like your hay washed away,and your corn beaten down, and your fruit all spoilt? Those are thingsthat are constantly happening to John Backhouse, I expect, in the rainycountry."

  "Yes, and it won't always be summer," said Milly, considering. "I don'tthink I should like to stay in that little weeny house all the winter.Is it very cold here in the winter, Aunt Emma?"

  "Not very, generally. But last winter was very cold here, and the snowlay on the ground for weeks and weeks. On Christmas eve, do you know,Milly, I wanted to have a children's party in my kitchen, and what doyou think I did? The snow was lying deep on the roads, so I sent out twosledges."

  "What are sledges?" asked Olly.

  "Carriages with the wheels taken off and two long pieces of woodfastened on instead, so that they slip along smoothly over the snow. Andmy old coachman drove one and my gardener the other, and they went roundall the farmhouses near by, and gathered up the children, little andbig, into the sledges, till the coachman had got eight in his sledge,and the gardener had got nine in his, and then they came trotting backwith the bells round the horses' necks jingling and clattering, and twosuch merry loads of rosy-faced children. I wish you had been there; Igave them tea in the kitchen, and afterward we had a Christmas tree inthe drawing-room."

  "Oh what fun," said Milly. "Why didn't you ask us too, Aunt Emma? Wecould have come quite we
ll in the train, you know. But how did thechildren get home?"

  "We covered them up warm with rugs and blankets, and sent them back inthe sledges. And they looked so happy with their toys and buns cuddledup in their arms, that it did one's heart good to see them."

  "Mind you ask us next time, Aunt Emma," said Milly, hanging round herneck coaxingly.

  "Mind you get two pairs of wings by that time, then," said Aunt Emma,"for mother's not likely to let you come to my Christmas tree unless youpromise to fly there and back. But suppose, instead of your coming tome, I come to you next Christmas?"

  "Oh yes! yes!" cried Olly, who had just joined Aunt Emma and Milly,"come to our Christmas tree, Aunt Emma. We'll give you ever such nicethings--a ball and a top, and a train--perhaps--and--"

  "As if Aunt Emma would care for those kind of things!" said Milly. "No,you shall give her some muffetees, you know, to keep her hands warm, andI'll make her a needlebook. But, Aunt Emma, do listen! What can be thematter?"

  They were just climbing the little bit of steep road which led to thefarm, and suddenly they heard somebody roaring and screaming, and thenan angry voice scolding, and then a great clatter, and then louderroaring than ever.

  "What _is_ the matter?" cried Milly, running on to the farm door, whichwas open. But just as she got there, out rushed a tattered little figurewith a tear-stained face, and hair flying behind.

  "Tiza!" cried Milly, trying to stop her. But Tiza ran past her as quickas lightning down the garden path towards the cherry tree, and inanother minute, in spite of the shower of wet she shook down on herselfas she climbed up, she was sitting high and safe among the branches,where there was no catching her nor even seeing her.

  "Ay, that's the best place for ye," said Mrs. Backhouse, appearing atthe door with an angry face, "you'll not get into so much mischief thereperhaps as you will indoors. Oh, is that you, Miss Elliot (that was AuntEmma's surname)? Walk in please, ma'am, though you'll find me sadlyuntidy this afternoon. Tiza's been at her tricks again; she keeps mesweeping up after her all day. Just look here, if you please, ma'am."

  Aunt Emma went in, and the children pressed in after her, full ofcuriosity to see what crime Tiza had been committing. Poor Mrs.Backhouse! all over her clean kitchen floor there were streams of waterrunning about, with little pieces of cabbage and carrot sticking up inthem here and there, while on the kitchen table lay a heap of meat andvegetables, which Mrs. Backhouse had evidently just picked up out of thegrate before Aunt Emma and the children arrived.

  "Yes," said Mrs. Backhouse, pointing to the floor, "there's the supperjust spoilt. Tiza's never easy but when she's in mischief. I'm surethese wet days I have'nt known what to do with her indoors all day. Andwhat must she do this afternoon but tie her tin mug to the cat's tail,till the poor creature was nearly beside herself with fright, and wentrushing about upstairs like a mad thing. And then, just when I happenedto be out a minute looking after something, she lets the cat in here,and the poor thing jumps into the saucepan I had just put on with thebroth for our supper, and in her fright and all turns it right over. Andnow look at my grate, and the fender, and the floor, and the meat thereall messed! I expect her father'll give Tiza a good beating when hecomes in, and I'm sure I shan't stand in the way."

  "Oh no, please, Mrs. Backhouse!" said Milly, running up to her with agrave imploring little face. "Don't let Mr. Backhouse beat her; shedidn't mean it, she was only in fun, I'm sure."

  "Well, missy, it's very troiblesome fun I'm sure," said Mrs. Backhouse,patting Milly kindly on the shoulder, for she was a good-natured woman,and it wasn't her way to be angry long. "I don't know what I'm to giveJohn for his supper, that I don't. I had nothing in the house but justthose little odds and ends of meat, that I thought would make a nice bitof broth for supper. And now he'll come in wet and hungry, and there'llbe nothing for him. Well, we must do with something else, I suppose, butI expect her father'll beat her."

  Milly and Olly looked rather awestruck at the idea of a beating fromJohn Backhouse, that great strong brawny farmer; and Milly, whisperingsomething quickly to Aunt Emma, slipped out into the garden again. Bythis time father and mother had come up, and Becky appeared from thefarmyard, wheeling the baby in a little wooden cart, and radiant withpleasure at the sight of Aunt Emma, whose godchild she was, so thatMilly's disappearance was not noticed.

  She ran down the garden path to the cherry tree, and as, in the varioustimes they had been together, Becky and Tiza had taught her a good dealof climbing, she too clambered up into the wet branches, and was soonsitting close by Tiza, who had turned her cotton pinafore over her headand wouldn't look at Milly.

  "Tiza," said Milly softly, putting her hand on Tiza's lap, "do you feelvery bad?"

  No answer.

  "We came to take you down to have tea with us," said Milly, "do youthink your mother will let you come?"

  "Naw," said Tiza shortly, without moving from behind her pinafore.

  It certainly wasn't very easy talking to Tiza. Milly thought she'dbetter try something else.

  "Tiza," she began timidly, "do your father and mother tell you storieswhen it rains?"

  "Naw," said Tiza, in a very astonished voice, throwing down her pinaforeto stare at Milly.

  "Then what do you do, Tiza, when it rains?"

  "Nothing," said Tiza. "We has our dinners and tea, and sometimes Beckyminds the baby and sometimes I do, and father mostly goes to sleep."

  "Tiza," said Milly hurriedly, "did you _mean_ pussy to jump into thesaucepan?"

  Up went Tiza's pinafore again, and Milly was in dismay because shethought she had made Tiza cry; but to her great surprise Tiza suddenlyburst into such fits of laughter, that she nearly tumbled off the cherrytree. "Oh, she did jump so, and the mug made such a rattling! And whenshe comed out there was just a little bit of carrot sticking to hernose, and her tail was all over cabbage leaf. Oh, she did look funny!"

  Milly couldn't help laughing too, till she remembered all that Mrs.Backhouse had been saying.

  "Oh, but, Tiza, Mrs. Backhouse says your father won't have anything forhis supper. Aren't you sorry you spoilt his supper?"

  "Yis," said Tiza, quickly. "I know father'll beat me, he said he wouldnext time I vexed mother."

  And this time the pinafore went up in earnest, and Tiza began to crypiteously.

  "Don't cry, Tiza," said Milly, her own little cheeks getting wet, too."I'll beg him not. Can't you make up anyway? Mother says we must alwaysmake up if we can when we've done any harm. I wish I had anything togive you to make up."

  Tiza suddenly dried her eyes and looked at Milly, with a brightexpression which was very puzzling.

  "You come with me," she said suddenly, swinging herself down from thetree. "Come here by the hedge, don't let mother see us."

  So they ran along the far side of the hedge till they got into thefarmyard, and then Tiza led Milly past the hen-house, up to the cornerwhere the hayricks were. In and out of the hayricks they went, till inthe very farthest corner of all, where hardly anybody ever came, andwhich nobody could see into from the yard, Tiza suddenly knelt down andput her hand under the hay at the bottom of the rick.

  "You come," she whispered eagerly to Milly, pulling her by the skirt,"you come and look here."

  Milly stooped down, and there in a soft little place, just between thehayrick and the ground, what do you think she saw? Three large brownisheggs lying in a sort of rough nest in the hay, and looking so round andfresh and tempting, that Milly gave a little cry of delight.

  "Oh, Tiza, how be--utiful! How did they get there?"

  "It's old Sally, our white hen you know, laid them. I found them justafter dinner. Mother doesn't know nothing about them. I never toldBecky, nor nobody. Aren't they beauties?"

  And Tiza took one up lovingly in her rough, little brown hands, and laidit against her cheek, to feel how soft and satiny it was.

  "Oh, and Tiza, I know," exclaimed Milly eagerly, "you meant these woulddo for supper. That would be a lovely make up. There's thr
ee. One forMr. Backhouse, one for Mrs. Backhouse, and one for Becky.--There's nonefor you, Tiza."

  "Nor none for Becky neither," answered Tiza shortly. "Father'll wanttwo. Becky and me'll get bread and dripping."

  "Well, come along, Tiza, let's take them in."

  "No, you take them," said Tiza. "Mother won't want to see me no more,and father'll perhaps be coming in."

  "Oh, but, Tiza, you'll come to tea with us?"

  "I don't know," said Tiza. "You ask."

  And off she ran as quick as lightning, off to her hiding-place in thecherry tree, while Milly was left with the three brown eggs, feelingrather puzzled and anxious. However, she put them gently in the skirt ofher frock, and holding it up in both hands she picked her way throughthe wet yard back to the house.

  When she appeared at the kitchen door, Aunt Emma and Mrs. Backhouse werechatting quietly. Mr. and Mrs. Norton, and Olly, had gone on for alittle stroll along the Wanwick road, and Becky was sitting on thewindow-sill with the baby, who seemed very sleepy, but quite determinednot to go to sleep in spite of all Becky's rocking and patting.

  "Oh, Mrs. Backhouse," began Milly, coming in with a bright flushed face,"just look here, what I've brought. Tiza found them just after dinnerto-day. They were under the hayrick right away in the corner, and shewanted to make up, so she showed me where they were, so I brought themin, and there's two for Mr. Backhouse, and one for you, you know. And,please, won't you let Tiza come to tea with us?"

  Mrs. Backhouse looked in astonishment at the three eggs lying in Milly'sprint skirt, and at Milly's pleading little face.

  "Ay, that's Sally, I suppose. She's always hiding her eggs is Sally,where I can't find them. So it was Tiza found them, was it, Missy? Well,they will come, in very handy for supper as it happens. Thank you kindlyfor bringing them in."

  And Mrs. Backhouse took the eggs and put them safely away in a pie-dish,while Becky secretly pulled Milly by the sleeve, and smiled up at her asmuch as to say,

  "Thank you for helping Tiza out of her scrape."

  "And you'll let Becky and Tiza come to tea?" asked Milly again.

  "Well, I'm sure, Miss, I don't know," said Mrs. Backhouse, lookingpuzzled; "Becky may come and welcome, but perhaps it would do Tiza goodto stay at home."

  "Don't you think she'd better have a little change?" said Aunt Emma inher kind voice, which made Milly want to hug her. "I daresay stayingindoors so long made her restless. If you will let me carry them bothoff, I daresay between us, Mrs. Backhouse, we can give Tiza a talkingto, and perhaps she'll come back in a more sensible mood."

  "Well, Miss Elliot, she shall go if you wish it. Come Becky, give me thebaby, and go and put your things on." And then going to the door, Mrs.Backhouse shouted "Tiza!" After a second or two a little figure droppeddown out of the cherry tree and came slowly up the walk. Tiza had shakenher hair about her face so that it could hardly be seen, and she neverlooked once at Aunt Emma and Milly as she came up to her mother.

  "There, go along, Tiza, and get your things on," said Mrs. Backhouse,taking her by the arm. "I wouldn't have let you go out to tea, you know,if Miss Elliot and Missy hadn't asked particular. Mind you don't getinto no more mischief. And very like those eggs'll do for father'ssupper; so, I daresay, I'll not say anything to him this time--just foronce. Now go up."

  Tiza didn't want to be told twice, and presently, just as Mr. and Mrs.Norton and Olly were coming back from their walk, they met Aunt Emmacoming back from the farm holding Becky's hand, while Milly and Tizawalked in front.

  "Well, Tiza," said Mr. Norton, patting her curly head, I declare I thinkyou beat Olly for mischief. Olly never spoilt my dinner yet, that Iremember. What should I do to him do you think, if he did?"

  "Beat him," said Tiza, looking up at Mr. Norton with her quick birdlikeeyes.

  "Oh dear, no!" said Mr. Norton, "that wouldn't do my dinner any good. Ishould eat him up instead."

  "I don't believe little boys taste good a bit," said Olly, who alwaysbelieved firmly in his father's various threats. "If you ettened me,father, you'd be ill."

  "Oh no," said Mr. Norton, "not if I eat you with plenty of bread-sauce.That's the best way to cook little boys. Now, Milly, which of you threegirls can get to that gate first?"

  Off ran the three little girls full tilt down the hill leading toRavensnest, with Olly puffing and panting after them. Milly led the wayat first, for she was light and quick, and a very fair runner for herage; but Tiza soon got up to her and passed her, and it was Tiza'slittle stout legs that arrived first at Ravensnest gate.

  "Oh, Becky!" said Milly, putting her arm round Becky's neck as they wentinto the house together, "I hope you may stay a good long time. Whattime do you go to bed?"

  "Oh, I don't know," said Becky. "We go when fayther goes."

  "When fayther goes!" exclaimed Milly. "Why, we go ever so long beforefather. Why do you stay up so late?"

  "Why, it isn't late," said Becky. "Fayther goes to bed, now it'ssummertime, about half-past eight; but in winter, of course, he goesearlier. And we all goes together, except baby. Mother puts him out ofthe way before supper."

  "Well, but how funny," said Milly, "I can't think why you should be sodifferent from us."

  And Milly went on puzzling over Becky and her going to bed, till nursedrove it all out of her head by fetching them to tea. Such a merry teathey had, and after tea a romp in the big kitchen with father, whichdelighted the little farm children beyond measure. Some time in theevening, I believe, Aunt Emma managed to give Tiza a little talking to,but none of the other children knew anything about it, except perhapsBecky, who generally knew what was happening to Tiza.