itself near the horizon, nestling in a cloudland oftrees, from which the grey flat tower of a church looked up.
To the left yonder, and near to the church, was a long strip of silver--the canal. High on a wooded hill stood the lord of the manor's house,solid, brown, and old, with the blue smoke therefrom trailing lazilyalong across the tree-tops.
But the house nearest to Ransey's was some distance across the fieldsyonder--an old-fashioned brick farm-building with a steading behind it,every bit of it green with age.
"So ye can't see no signs o' father, or the barge, eh? Look again,Admiral; your neck's a bit longer'n mine."
"Tok--tok--tok--cray!"
"Well, I'm off down. There's the milk to fetch yet; and if I don'thurry up, Bob and Babs are sure to make a mess on't afore I gets back.Mornin' to ye, Admiral."
And Ransey Tansey slid down that tree far more quickly even than he hadswarmed up it.
Scattering the dew from the grass and the milk-white clover with hisnaked feet, the lad went trotting on, and very quickly reached the farm.He had to stop once or twice by the way, however. First, Towsey, theshort-horned bull, put his great head over a five-barred gate, andRansey had to pause to scratch it. Then he met the peacock, whoinsisted on instant recognition, and walked back with him till the twowere met by Snap, the curly-coated retriever.
"I don't like Snap," said the peacock. "I won't go a bit further. Theugly brute threatened to snap my head off; that's the sort of Snap heis."
The farmer's wife was fat and jolly looking.
"Well, how's all the family?"
"Oh, they're all right, ye know; especially Babs, 'cause she's asleep.And we kind of expect father to-day. But even the Admiral can't see'im, with _his_ long neck."
She filled his can, and took the penny. That was only business; but thekindly soul had slyly slipped two turkey's eggs into the can before shepoured in the milk.
When he got back to his home, the first thing he saw was that crane,half hopping, half flying round and round the gibbet-tree. The fact ofthe matter is this: the bird did not wish to go far away from the housejust yet, as he generally followed his little master to the brook orstream; but, nevertheless, on this particularly fine morning he foundhimself possessed of an amount of energy that must be expended somehow,so he went hopping round the tree, dangling his head and long neck inthe drollest and most ridiculous kind of way imaginable. Ransey Tanseyhad to place his milk-can on the ground in order to laugh with greaterfreedom. The most curious part of the business was this: crane thoughhe was, wheeling madly round like this made him dizzy, so every now andthen he stopped and danced round the other way.
The Admiral caught flies wherever he saw them; but flies, though allvery well in their way, were mere tit-bits. Presently he would have afew frogs for breakfast, and the bird was just as fond of frogs as aFrenchman is.
Ransey Tansey opened the door of the little cottage very quietly, andpeeped in. Bob was there by the bassinette. He agitated that fag-endof a tail of his, and looked happy.
Murrams paused in the act of washing his ears, with one paw held aloft.He began to sing, because he knew right well there was milk in that can,and that he would have a share of it.
Babs's blue eyes had been on the smoke-grimed ceiling, but she loweredthem now.
"Oh," she said, "you's tome back, has 'oo?"
"And Babs has been so good, hasn't she?" said Ransey.
"Babs is dood, and Bob is dood, and Murrams is dooder. 'Ift [lift] meup twick, 'Ansey."
Two plump little arms were extended towards her brother, and presentlyhe was seated near the fire dressing her, as if he had been to themanner born.
There was a little face to wash presently, as well as two tiny hands andarms; but that could be done after they had all had breakfast.
"Oh, my!" cried Ransey Tansey; "look, Babs! Two turkey's eggs in thebottom of the can!"
"Oh, my! 'Ansey," echoed the child. "One tu'key's egg fo' me, and onefo' 'oo."
The door had been left half ajar, and presently about a yard of longneck was thrust round the edge, and the Admiral looked lovingly at theeggs, first with one roguish eye, then with the other.
This droll crane had a weakness for eggs--strange, perhaps, but true.When he found one, he tossed it high in air, and in descending caught itcleverly. Next second there was an empty egg-shell on the ground, andsome kind of a lump sliding slowly down the Admiral's extended gullet.When it was fairly landed, the bird expressed his delight by dancing adouble-triple fandango, which was partly jig, partly hornpipe, and allthe rest a Highland schottische.
"Get out, Admiral!--get out, I tell ye!" cried the boy. "W'y, yestoopid, if the door slams, off goes yer head."
The bird seemed to fully appreciate the danger, and at once withdrew.
Ransey placed the two turkey's eggs on a shelf near the little gablewindow. One pane of glass was broken, and was stuffed with hay.
Well, the Admiral had been watching the boy, and as soon as his back wasturned, it didn't take the bird long to pull out that hay.
"O 'Ansey, 'ook! 'ook!" cried Babs.
It was too late, however, for looking to do any good. For the same yardof neck that had, a few minutes before, appeared round the edge of thedoorway, was now thrust through the broken pane, and only one turkey'segg was left.
Babs looked very sad. She considered for a bit, then said solemnly,--
"'Oo mus' have the odel [other] tu'key's _egg_. You is dooder nor me."
But Ransey didn't have it. He contented himself with bread and milk.
And so the two mitherless bairns had breakfast.
Book 1--CHAPTER TWO.
LIFE IN THE WOODS.
I trust that, from what he has already seen and heard of Ransey Tansey,the reader will not imagine I desire this little hero of mine to pose asa real saint. Boys should be boys while they have the chance. Alas,they shall grow up into men far too soon, and then they needn't go longjourneys to seek for sorrow; they will find it near home.
And now I think, reader, you and I understand each other, to some extentat all events. Though I believe he was always manly and never mean,yet, as his biographer, I am bound to confess that there was just asmuch monkey-mischief to the square inch about Ransey Tansey, as aboutany boy to whom I have ever had the honour of being introduced.
It was said of the immortal George Washington that when a boy at schoolhe climbed out of a bedroom window and robbed a wall fruit tree, becausethe other boys were cowards and afraid to do so. But George refused toeat even a bite of one of these apples himself. I think that RanseyTansey could have surpassed young Washington; for not only would he havetaken the apples, but eaten his own share of them afterwards.
To do him justice, however, I must state that on occasions when hisfather went in the barge to a distant town on business, as he had beennow for over a week, Ransey being left in charge of his tiny sister andthe whole establishment, the sense of his great responsibility kept himentirely free from mischief.
Now a very extraordinary thing happened on this particular morning--Ransey Tansey received a letter.
The postman was sulky, to say the least of it.
"Pretty thing," he said, as he flung the letter with scant ceremony inthrough the open doorway; "pretty thing as I should have to comethree-quarters of a mile round to fetch a letter to the likes o' you!"
"Now, look 'ee here," said Ransey, "if ye're good and brings my lettersevery day, and hangs yer stockin' out at Christmas-time, I may putsomethin' in it."
"Gur long, ye ragged young nipper!"
Ransey was dandling Babs upon his knee, but he now put her gently downbeside the cat. Then he jumped up.
"I'se got to teach you a lesson," he said to the boorish postman, "onthe hadvantages o' civeelity. I ain't agoin' to waste a good pertateron such a sconce as yours, don't be afeard; but 'ere's an old turmut[turnip] as'll meet the requirements o' the occasion."
It was indeed an old turnip, and well aimed too, for i
t caught thepostman on the back of the neck and covered him with slush from head totoe.
The lout yelled with rage, and flew at Ransey stick in hand. Nextmoment, and before he could deal the boy a blow, he was lying flat onthe grass, with Bob standing triumphantly over him growling like a wildwolf.
"Call off yer dog, and I won't say no more about it."
"Oh, ye won't, won't ye? I calls that wery considerate. But look 'eehere, I ain't agoin' to call Bob off, until ye begs my parding in aspirit o' humility, as t'old parson says. If ye don't, I'll hiss Bob onto ye, and ye'll be a raggeder nipper nor me afore