Mrs. Humphry Ward

“ You’re not a nice bird to-night at all. Take him away, Margaret.”
“Jane! Jane!” screamed Polly, as the maid lifted up the cage again. “Make haste, Jane! cat’s in the larder!”
“Oh, you bad Polly,” said Aunt Emma, “you’re always telling tales. Jane’s my cook, Milly, and Polly doesn’t like cats, so you see he tries to make Jane believe that our old cat steals the meat out of the larder. Good-bye, Polly, good-bye. You’re an ill-natured old bird, but I’m very fond of you all the same.”
“Do get us a parrot, mother!” said Olly, jumping about round his mother, when Polly was gone. ”

“ Can you tell stories, Aunt Emma?”
“Tell us about old Mother Quiverquake,” cried Olly, running up and climbing on his aunt’s knee.
“Oh dear, no!” said Aunt Emma; “it’s much too fine to-day for stories—indoors, at any rate. Wait till we get a real wet day, and then we’ll see. After dinner to-day, what do you think we’re going to do? Suppose we have a row on the lake to get water-lilies, and suppose we take a kettle and make ourselves some tea on the other side of the lake. What would you say to that, Master Olly?” ”

“ Olly and Milly could see hundreds and thousands of moon-daisies and buttercups growing among the wet grass, and every now and then came great bushes of wild-roses, some pink and some white, and long pools with yellow irises growing along the side; and sometimes the train went rushing through a little village, and they could see the little children trotting along to school, with their books and slates tucked under their arms ”

“ Tiza still sobbing on the grass, and Olly who had just crept down from the farmhouse, where he and Charlie had seen Becky carried in, talking to nurse in eager whispers, as if he daren’t talk out loud.
“Oh, Aunt Emma,” cried Milly, when she opened the gate, “is she better?”
“A little, I think, Milly, but the doctor will soon be here, and then we shall know all about it. Tiza, you poor little woman, Mrs. Wheeler says you must sleep with them to-night. Your mother will want the house very quiet, and to-morrow, you know, you can go and see Becky if the doctor says you may.” ”

“ Norton, “they can think of nothing but to-morrow. They’ll be sadly disappointed if it rains.”
But the stars came out, and the new moon shone softly all night on the great fir trees and the rosebuds and the little dancing beck in the Ravensnest garden; and when Milly awoke next morning the sun was shining, and Brownholme was towering up clear and high into the breezy blue sky, and the trees were throwing cool shadows on the dewy lawn around the house. ”

“ Norton. “Try whether you can manage the stepping-stones by yourself.” So Milly came, holding up her bathing dress, and stepping from one big stone to another with a very grave face, as if she felt that there would be an end of her altogether if she tumbled in. And then, splash! In she jumped by the side of Olly, and after a little shiver or two she also began to think that the river was a delightful bathing place, almost as nice as the sea, perhaps in some ways nicer, because it was such a strange and funny one. ”

“ But it was a long long way to Windermere, and poor Milly and Olly began to get very tired. The trees at Wigan did make them laugh a little bit, but they were too tired to think them as funny as they would have thought them in the morning. They are such comical trees! First of all, the smoke from the smoky chimneys at Wigan has made them black, and stopped the leaves from growing, and then the wind has blown them all over on one side, so that they look like ugly little twisted dwarfs, as if some cruel fairy had touched them with her wand. ”

“ When Milly woke up next morning there was no nice sunshine creeping on to her bed as it had done almost ever since they came to Ravensnest; but instead there was rain beating steadily against the window, coming down out of a heavy gray sky, and looking as if it meant to go on for ever.
“Oh dear!” sighed Milly, as she began to dress, “we can’t go out, and the wild strawberries will get so wet. ”

“ Becky and Tiza don’t care about their birthdays a bit. Becky could hardly remember when hers was, and they never have any presents unless Aunt Emma gives them one, or people to tea, or anything.’
“Well, you see, Milly, when people have only just pennies and shillings enough to buy bread and meat to eat, and clothes to put on, they can’t go spending money on presents; and when they’re very anxious and busy all the year round they can’t be remembering birthdays and taking pains about them like richer people can, who have less to trouble them, and whose work does not take up quite so much time.” ”

“ And there’s dear little Milly, I remember her. But where’s Olly? I’ve never seen that small creature, you know. Come, Olly, don’t be shy. Little boys are never shy with Aunt Emma.”
“Except when they tumble into bogs,” said Mr. Norton, laughing and pulling Olly forward, who was trying to hide his mud-stockings behind his mother. “There’s a clean tidy boy to bring to dinner, isn’t he, Aunt Emma? I think I’ll take him to the yard and pump on him a little before we bring him in.”
Aunt Emma put up her spectacles to look at Olly.
“Why, Olly, I think Mother Quiverquake has been catching hold of you. ”

“ If the hounds were hunting a stag, and they drove him down to the edge, he would sooner let them tear him to pieces than hide himself in the water. And every night the black water seemed to burn and flame, and it hissed and bubbled and groaned as if there were evil creatures tossing underneath. And now when Beowulf and his men came near it, they saw fierce water dragons lying near the edge or swimming about the pool. There also, beside the water, they found the dead body of Hrothgar’s friend, who had been killed by Grendel’s mother, and they took it up, and mourned over him afresh. ”

“ At Stafford there is an old castle, Milly, where fierce people lived in old days and fought their neighbours. And at Crewe we shall get out and have our dinner. And at Wigan all the trees grow on one side as if some one had come and given them a push in the night; and at Lancaster there’s another old castle, a very famous one, only now they have turned it into a prison, and people are shut up inside it. Then a little way after Lancaster you’ll begin to see some mountains, far, far away, but first you’ll see something else—just a little bit of blue sea, with mountains on the other side of it. ”

“ Why, Milly, what have you been doing to your cheeks?”
“She’s been crying,” said Olly, in spite of Milly’s pulling him by the sleeve to be quiet, “because I stickened her doll.”
“Well, and quite right too. Dolls weren’t made to be stickied. But now, who’s going to carry my bag upstairs? Take it gently, Milly, it’s got my cap inside, and if you crumple my cap I shall have to sit with my head in a bandbox at dinner. Old ladies are never seen without their caps you know. The most dreadful things would happen if they were! Olly, you may put my umbrella away. ”

“ There were long fine days, when the six small creatures—Milly, Olly, Becky, Tiza, Bessie, and Charlie—followed John Backhouse and his men about in the hayfields from early morning till evening, helping to make the hay, or simply rolling about like a parcel of kittens in the flowery fragrant heaps.
Aunt Emma was often at Ravensnest, and the children learned to love her better and better, so that even wild little Olly would remember to bring her stool, and carry her shawl, and change her plate at dinner ”

“ And as for the hay-fields, they looked so wet and drenched that it was hard to believe any sunshine could ever dry them.
“Poor John Backhouse!” said Aunt Emma; “I’m afraid his hay is a good deal 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 by myself. It must be nice feeding the chickens, and making the hay, and taking the milk around.” ”

“ It’s very sad, but it is so. Don’t you be nervous when you’re old people. So all he said was ‘All right, ma’am. Bless you, he can swim like a trout.’ And crack went the whip, splash went the water! It seemed to me it was just going to come in under the door, when, lo and behold! there we were safe and sound on dry ground again. But whether my old horse swam through or walked through I can’t tell you. I like to believe he swam, because I’m so fond of him, and one likes to believe the creatures one loves can do clever things.”
“I’ll ask John when he comes to take you away, Aunt Emma,” said Olly. ”

“ Since then, Milly had learnt a good deal more of that long, long lesson, which we go on learning, big people and little people, all our lives—the lesson of self-forgetting—of how love brings joy, and to be selfish is to be sad; and her birthday seemed to bring back to her all that she had been learning. ”

“ We’ll tell stories—you and Olly, father, mother, and everybody. That’s much fairer than that one person should do all the telling.”
“We couldn’t,” said Milly, shaking her head gravely, “we are only little children. Little children can’t make up stories.”
“Suppose little children try,” said mother. “I think Aunt Emma’s is an excellent plan. Now, father, you’ll have to tell one too.”
“Father’s lazy,” said Mr. Norton, coming out from behind his newspaper. “But, perhaps, if you all of you tell very exciting stories you may stir him up.” ”

“ Milly and Oliver lived at Willingham, a little town in Oxfordshire, as I have already told you. Their father was a doctor, and they lived in an old-fashioned house, in a street, with a long shady garden stretching away behind it. Milly and Oliver loved their father, and whenever he put his brown face inside the nursery door, two pairs of little feet went running to meet him, and two pairs of little hands pulled him eagerly into the room. ”

“ Do ask Nana—do, father! We can have our bathing things on that we had at the sea, and you can come too and teach us to swim.”
“Well, just once perhaps, if mother says yes, and it’s very warm weather, and you get up very very early. But you won’t like it quite as much as you think. Rivers are very cold to bathe in, and those pretty stones at the bottom won’t feel at all nice to your little toes.”
“Oh, but, father,” interrupted Milly, “we could put on our sand shoes.”
“And wouldn’t we splash!” said Olly. “Nurse won’t let us splash in our bath, father, she says it makes a mess. ”

“ Presently, however, Milly got tired; and she and Tiza walked off by themselves and sat down by the river to get cool. The water in the river was quite low again now, and the children could watch the tiny minnows darting and flashing about by the bank, and even amuse themselves by fancying every now and then that they saw a trout shooting across the clear brown water. ”