Further Story of a Holiday
"She will get amongst the shrubs," said Emily]
The evening was very cool and pleasant, when Emily and Henry went outto play. Mary Bush had given Henry a young magpie; she had taught it tosay a few words, to the great delight of the children. It could say,"Good morning!" "How do you do?" "Oh, pretty Mag!" "Mag's a hungry.""Give Mag her dinner." "A bit of meat for poor Mag." To be sure thebird's words did not come out very clearly. But it was quite enough, asHenry said, if he understood them.
Mag had a large wicker cage, which generally hung up on a nail in thekitchen; but her master, being very fond of her company, used often totake the cage down, with the bird in it, and take it into his play-roomor his hut, or hang it upon the bough of a tree before the parlourwindow, that Mag might enjoy the fresh air. Sometimes, too, Henry letthe bird out, that she might enjoy herself a little, for as thefeathers of one of her wings were cut close, she could not fly; and shewas very tame, and never having known liberty, she was as fond of hercage, when she was tired or hungry, as some old ladies are of theirparlours.
"Let us take Mag with us out of doors," said Henry; and the cage wastaken down and carried out between the two children, whilst Mag keptchattering all the way, and was, if anything, more pert and brisk thanspoiled magpies generally are. They first went to the hut, and set thecage on the bench, whilst Henry and Emily busied themselves in puttinga few things to rights about the place, which had been set wrong by ahard shower which had happened the night before. There were a fewfallen leaves which had blown into the hut from some laurels growing onthe outside; and Henry said:
"I do hate laurels; for they are always untidy, and scattering abouttheir yellow leaves when all the trees about them are in their bestorder."
Whilst the children were going in and out after these leaves, to pickthem up and throw them out of sight, Mag kept hopping from one perch toanother, wriggling her tail, twisting her head to one side and another,and crying, "Oh, pretty Mag!" "Mag's a hungry," in a voice more likescolding than anything else.
"What now, mistress?" said Henry.
"She is not in the best possible temper," replied Emily.
"She wants to be out," answered Henry; "she does not like to be shutup."
"But," said Emily, "it would be dangerous to let her out here, so farfrom the house, and amongst the trees."
Henry was in a humour common not only to small but great boys onoccasions. He chose, just then, to think himself wiser than his sister,and, without another word, he opened the cage door, and out walkedMag, with the air of a person who had gained a point, and despisedthose who had given way to her.
And first she strutted round the inside of the hut, crying, "Oh, prettyMag!" with a vast deal of importance, and then she walked out at theentrance, trailing her tail after her, like a lady in a silk gown.
"She will get amongst the shrubs," said Emily; "and how shall we gether out of them?"
"Never fear," returned Henry; "you know that she cannot fly."
One would have thought that the bird knew what they said, for whilstthey spoke, she laid her head on one side, as if turning an ear--stoodstill a minute, and then paraded onwards--I say paraded, for if she hadbeen walking at a coronation she could not have taken more state uponherself.
"Let us see which way she goes," said Henry.
And the two children walked after her; Emily bringing the light wickercage with her.
Mag knew as well that they were after her as if she had been what thecountry people call a Christian, meaning a human creature. And shewalked on, not taking to the shrubs, which grew thick about the hut,but along a bit of grass-plot, at the farthest end of which was a rowof laurels and other evergreens. These trees hid the back yard of thehouse from the garden and small portion of land near to it, which Mr.Fairchild had given up to flowering shrubs and ornamental trees.
Behind these evergreens was a row of palings, and as Mag drew near tothese laurels, Henry ran forward, crying:
"She will get through the palings, if we don't mind, and into theyard."
Mag let him come near to her, and then gave a long hop, standing stilltill he was only at arm's length from her. Then she gave a second hop,alighting under a branch of laurel; and when Henry rushed forward tocatch her there, she made another spring, and was hidden among theleaves.
"Stop! stop!" cried Henry, "stop there, Emily, where you are; and Iwill run round and drive her back; and you must be ready to catch her."And away he ran to the nearest wicket, and was on the other side of thelaurels and the paling, in the fold-yard, not a minute afterwards.
Emily heard him making a noise on the opposite side of the shrubs, asif he thought Mag was between him and his sister, among the laurels;and he called also to her, bidding her to be ready when the birdappeared.
Emily watched and watched, but no bird came out; and not a minuteafterwards she heard Henry cry:
"O there! there! I see her going across the yard towards the barn! Comeround! leave the cage! come quickly, Emily!"
She obeyed the call in an instant; down went the cage on the grass. Shewas at the wicket and in the fold-yard in a minute, and there she sawMag pacing along the yard, in her coronation step, towards the barn,being, to all appearance, in no manner of hurry, and seeming to bequite unconscious of the near neighbourhood of her master and hissister.
"Hush, hush!" whispered Henry; "don't make a noise." And the twochildren trod softly and slowly towards the side of the yard where thebird was, as if they had been treading on eggs or groping through thedark and afraid of a post at every step. They thought that Maggy wasnot conscious of their approach; though Emily did not quite like thecunning way in which the bird laid her head on every side, as if thebetter to hear the sound.
Once again Henry was at arm's length from her, and had even extendedhimself as far forward as he could, and stretched out his hand to catchher, when his foot slipped, and down he came at full length in thedust. At the same instant Maggy made a hop, and turned to look back atHenry from the very lowest edge of the thatch of the barn, or rather ofa place where the roof of the barn was extended downwards over a lowwood-house.
Henry was up in a minute, not heeding the thick brown powder with whichhis face and hands and pinafore were covered; and Emily had scarcelycome up to the place where he had fallen, before he was endeavouring tocatch at the bird on the low ledge to which she had hopped.
But Maggy had no mind to be thus caught; she had gotten her liberty,and she was disposed to keep it a little longer; and when she saw thehand near her, she made another hop, and appeared higher up on theslanting thatch.
After some little talking over the matter, Henry proposed getting upthe thatch; and how he managed to persuade Emily to do the same, orwhether she did not want much persuasion, is not known; but this isvery certain, that they both soon climbed upon this thatch, havingfound a ladder in the yard, which John used in some of his work, andhaving set it against the wood-house, and from the top of thewood-house made their way to the roof of the barn.
"Now we shall have her!" cried Henry, as he made his way on his handsand knees along the sloping thatch; and again his hand was stretchedout to seize the bird, when she made another upward hop, and was as faroff as she had been when she sat on the edge of the thatch and he layin the dust.
"What a tiresome creature!" cried Henry.
"I am sure she does it on purpose," said Emily, "only to vex us; andthere she sits looking down upon us, and crying, 'Oh, pretty Mag!' Iknew, when she was in the hut, that she was in a wicked humour."
"Let us sit down here a little," said Henry, "and seem not to bethinking about her. Let us seem to be looking another way; perhaps shewill then come near to us of her own accord."
"We will try," replied Emily. And the children seated themselvesquietly on the thatch; and if they had not been uneasy about themagpie, would never have been better pleased with their seats.
But it might seem that Mag did not choose to be thus passed over, a
ndnot to have her friends busy and troubled about her; for as soon asEmily and Henry had planned not to notice her, and to seem to lookanother way, she began to cry in her usual croaking voice, "How do youdo, sir? Good morning, sir! Oh, pretty Mag! Mag's hungry!"
"What a tiresome bird it is," said Henry, impatiently. And Emily beganto coax and invite her to come near, holding out her hand as if she hadsomething in it.
Mag was not a bit behind in returning Emily's empty compliments, forshe hopped towards her, and very nearly within reach of her hand, stillcrying, "Good morning! Oh, pretty Mag!"
Emily now thought she had her, and was putting out her arm to catch herwhen the bird turned swiftly round, and hopping up the thatch, took herstation on the very point of the roof.
Henry lost no time, but, turning on his hands and knees, crept up theslope of the roof, and was followed by his sister, who was quite asactive as himself. They were not long in reaching the place where Magwas perched; but, before they could catch hold of her, she had walkeddown very leisurely on the other side, and hopped off into the field.Henry was after her, half sliding down the thatch, but Emily morewisely chose to go back by the wood-house as she had come, and in avery few minutes afterwards they were in the field. Henry had neverlost sight of his bird since he had found her in the fold-yard; but hewas none the nearer to catching her.
She waited at a respectful distance till Emily came up; and then,between walking and hopping, made her way across the field, and perchedherself on the upper bar of a gate.
The children were now in serious trouble, because they were notsuffered, when alone, to go beyond the bounds of the next field.
Beyond the second field was the lane, into which they had followed thepig on that unfortunate day in which they had been left under the careof John; and if the magpie should go over into this lane, what couldthey do? They did wish to obey their parents this day.
In order, however, to prevent this misfortune, Henry did the very worstthing he possibly could; he began to run and cry, "Mag! Mag!" with araised voice, whilst the bird, as if resolved to torment him, hoppedforward across the other field, perched herself on the stile, and, ashe drew near, flew right down from thence into the lane.
When Emily came up, there was poor Henry sitting across the stile inthe greatest possible trouble, being more than half tempted to breakbounds, and yet feeling that he ought not to do it. And there was Mag,walking up and down, pecking and picking, and wagging her tail; andnow and then looking with one cunning eye towards her little master,as much as to say, "Why don't you come after me? Here I am."
It is often by very small things that the strength of our resolutionsto be good is tested.
Henry was hardly tried, yet strength was given him to resist thetemptation; and by Emily's persuasion he was induced to wait a littlebefore he ventured to go down into the lane. And Mag seemed as wellcontent to wait, or rather more so than he was.
The children were in hopes that some one might come by who would helpthem in their distress. And they had not waited a minute before theycould see two children just coming in sight, at the very farthest pointwhere the lane was visible from the stile.
These children were--a very ragged boy, without shoes, stockings, orhat, about nine or ten years of age, and a little girl, worse clothed,if possible, than himself, for her petticoat was all in fringes,showing her little legs above the ankle; they both looked miserablythin. Mag waited saucily till these had come nearly opposite the stile,and then only stepped aside; whilst Henry, calling to the boy, told himhis trouble, pointing out the bird to him, and asking his help.
The boy looked towards the bird, and then, turning cheerfully to Henry,he said:
"Never fear, master, but I'll catch her for you;" and, dropping thehand of the little girl, he pulled off his ragged jacket, and crepttowards Maggy.
Cunning as the creature was, she did not understand that she had adeeper hand to deal with than that of her young master. She thereforelet the boy come as near to her as she had let Henry do many timesduring the chase, and in this way she gave him the opportunity he wasseeking of throwing his jacket over her, and seizing her as she layunder it.
"He has her!" cried Emily and Henry at once, and the ragged little girlset up quite a shriek of joy.
"Yes, I has her," added the boy; "but she pulls desperate hard, andwould bite me, if she could, through the cloth. Suppose I wraps her init, and carries her home for you, for we must not let her loose again.Hark! how she skirls, master and miss!"
Henry and Emily approved of this scheme; the boy kept Maggy in thefolds of the old jacket, and Emily helped the little girl to get overthe stile; and the four children walked quickly towards the house. Whenthey had crossed the two fields, Emily ran forward to fetch the cage,and the boy managed to get Mag into it without getting his fingers bit;after which Henry and Emily had leisure to ask the boy who he was, forthey had never seen him before.
He told them that his name was Edward, and that his little sister wascalled Jane, and that they had no father or mother, but lived withtheir grandmother in a cottage on the common, just by Sir CharlesNoble's park; and that their grandmother was very bad, and could notwork, but lay sick in bed; and that they were all half-starved, and hewas come out to beg--"Miss and Master," added the boy, "for we couldnot starve, nor see granny dying of hunger."
What a sad thing it is that stories of this kind are often told todeceive people, and get money out of them on false pretences! But Emilyand Henry saw how thin and ragged these poor children were, and Emilythought of a plan of giving them a supper without taking what they gavefrom her father. So she proposed her scheme to Henry, and he said:
"That will just do; I did not think of it."
Emily then said to the children:
"Sit down here; we will take naughty Mag into the house, and come backto you;" and she and Henry were off in a minute. They ran in to Betty,and asked her what she had for their supper. Betty was shelling peas inthe kitchen, and she told them that she was going to cook them for hermaster and mistress; and she said:
"I suppose, Miss Emily, you and your brother will sup with your parentsto-night."
"But, if you please, we would rather have our supper now," said Emily.
"That we would," cried Henry; "so please, Betty, do give us somethingnow."
"Then you must not have a second supper, Master Henry," said Betty, "ifI give you something to eat now."
"Very well, Betty," replied both children at once; "but we would likeit now, instead of waiting later for papa and mamma."
So Betty gave each a currant turnover or puff, and a slice of bread andsome milk.
"May we take our supper out of doors, Betty?" said Emily.
"If you please," replied Betty; and she put the turnovers, as shecalled the puffs, into a little basket, with two large slices of breadand two cans of milk, and put the basket into Emily's hands.
"You have made beautiful ears and eyes to the turnovers, Betty," saidHenry; "I always call them pigs when they are made in that way."
"And they taste much better, don't they, Master Henry?" asked Betty.
"To be sure they do," answered Henry, and away he walked after hissister.
So Emily and Henry gave their supper to the little children; and theywere very much pleased with them, because, when they had eaten part ofthe bread and drunk the milk, they asked leave to take what was lefthome to their grandmother.
"_Emily and Henry gave their supper to the littlechildren._"--Page 215.]
Emily fetched them a piece of paper to wrap the puffs in, and then sheand Henry watched them back into the lane, and afterwards walkedquietly home, to be ready when their parents and Lucy should come back.
"_The magpie on the stile._"--Page 209.]