Part 12 (1/2)

Fred was fast asleep, breathing regularly; and the maid said he had not moved; so he was left to his rest, strict injunctions being given that Mrs Inglis should be called directly the invalid woke, or showed symptoms of so doing.

CHAPTER ELEVEN.

b.u.mPITTY b.u.mP.--THE WOPSES.

For two or three days Fred remained very unwell, as might easily be supposed from the shock he had received; but the boys spent the greater part of the days with him reading or playing, and in the evenings came Mr and Mrs Inglis to sit in his bedroom, when Mr Inglis told them natural history anecdotes, or talked about the wondrous changes of insects in so interesting a manner, that the little auditory heard him with the most rapt attention.

On the second evening, in answer to a question, Fred related how it was he managed to be carried away by the stream. It appeared that it was through a sudden fright; for, while wading about with the water up to his armpits, he felt what he thought was a great fish touch him--but which was more probably a piece of wood--and he was so startled and alarmed with the idea that it might be a great pike, such as he had once seen in the river, and also caught by Mr Inglis, that he rushed away from the fancied peril, and, by mishap, this was done on the wrong side; so that directly afterwards he was splas.h.i.+ng and paddling in the water, out of his depth, and with the stream bearing him away quite fast. He could remember the water bubbling and thundering in his ears as he was swept away; two or three great struggles to reach the side, and then it seemed like going to sleep, and waking to find himself in his bed, with three faces leaning over him, and everything else misty and bewildered.

On the morning of the fourth day, Fred was up again and out with his cousins before breakfast, getting their feet well soaked by the dewy gra.s.s out in the cedar-field as they took it in turns to have a ride upon the pony--one boy running by his side once up and down the field, and holding the pony by his halter. He was a capital quiet fellow, was old Dumpling, and put up with the tricks of his young masters as good-naturedly as possibly, and, on the whole, rather seeming to join in the fun, for he stood perfectly still by their side while they climbed up the fence, and from thence on to his back, and then went along at a jig-jog trot, just as they wished him. As for Harry and Philip, they were well used to being upon his back; but when it came to Fred's turn, he prepared to mount with considerable trepidation.

It might almost have been thought that, after the last unpleasant adventure, Fred would have been very diffident in joining in any of his cousins' rather boisterous amus.e.m.e.nts; but he had a most wholesome dread of being looked upon as a coward: the very idea of being despised by his cousins rendered him ready to dare anything; so that, no matter what they had pressed him to, he would most probably have attempted it, however strongly his reason or inclination might have prompted him otherwise; so, when it came to his turn, he followed the instructions of his cousins, and made a sort of half leap or vault upon the pony's back; but in so doing he overshot the mark, and went scrambling down, head first, on the other side. The pony, however, never moved, and as Fred was not hurt, he climbed the fence for another try, and this time came down just in the right place, but in doing so, stuck his heels so tightly into the nag's side, that, without waiting for the leader to take hold of the halter, away he started at a canter, greatly to Fred's dismay, for the b.u.mping he received seemed something fearful to him, and he had no small difficulty in keeping his seat; but keep it he did, and the pony cantered away till nearly at the bottom of the field, when he subsided into a trot, the boys behind in full chase, laughing and cheering away as hard as they could. Trot--trot, went the pony, and Fred thought it was horrible, for it rucked his trousers up, and shook and b.u.mped him ten times more than when he was cantering. But Fred was too much of a stoic to find fault, and sat it out famously, for Harry now caught up to him, and, seizing the halter, ran by his side till they reached the fence again, when Fred dismounted.

”Why, I thought you said that you couldn't ride!” said Philip, now coming up quite out of breath. ”Why, you ride better than we do; don't he, Hal?”

”Ride! of course he can,” said Harry, ”better than I can; but a couple of old clothes-props, tied together, and put straddling over the pony, would ride better than--Oh! don't, Phil, it hurts,” he continued, as Philip indulged his brother with a few thumps in the back to repay the compliment that he had given to the punisher.

”There goes the bell,” said Fred, with a hunger-sharpened sense, running off full race towards the house, closely followed by his cousins, who could not, however, catch up to him until they reached the side-door, through which they all rushed together with such impetus, that they came in contact with Mary, who was carrying a plate of hot cake and some eggs into the breakfast parlour.

”Squawk,” said Mary, as she was regularly upset, and they all went down--boys, plate, eggs, tray, and all--in one heap upon the pa.s.sage floor.

Out came Mrs Inglis, and out came the Squire, and out ran the cook from the kitchen; and then everybody began to talk at once, so that the confusion grew worse than ever.

Master Harry was the first to get up, and, instead of trying to a.s.sist his companions in misfortune, or to rub the dust off his clothes, he began to collect the cake together; and, as the plate was broken, he very carefully arranged the three-cornered wedges on the top of his straw hat, as though the cake had been a puzzle.

As for Fred, he had quite a job to disentangle himself from Mary; for, when she was going down, she loosed her hold of the little tray she was carrying, and caught hold of Fred, and, of course, they went down together. But when Fred got up, he stood shaking his ear, and trying to get rid of the buzzing sound produced by Mary's piercing scream.

Philip was in the worst plight, for he went head first amongst the eggs, and was in consequence rather eggy. He was quite aware of his misfortune, and had been wiping the rich yolk off his face; but, not having a gla.s.s before him, he had made it rather smeary, and also left a goodly portion in the roots of his hair.

Poor Mary gathered herself up, sobbing half hysterically that it wasn't her fault. ”No,” said Harry, stoutly. ”It wasn't Mary's fault. We all had a share in it.”

As for Mr and Mrs Inglis, they took the sensible view of the case, that it was an accident, which only resulted in the breakage of a plate, and the loss of two or three eggs; for Harry declared that the cake was ”All right,” and they would eat it; go they returned to the breakfast-parlour, mutually glad that Mary was not bringing in the tea-urn, when the accident might have been of a very serious nature.

But when the boys had made themselves respectable, and descended again to breakfast, all this involved some rather serious talk upon the part of Mr and Mrs Inglis, but did not seem to spoil the boys' breakfast the least bit in the world; while as to the cake, they said it wasn't a bit the worse, only rather gritty with a few little bits of china that had been left in from the broken plate.

”Well, boys,” said Mr Inglis at last, ”what have you been doing this morning?”

”Riding, Papa, in the field, and Fred, too. We had such capital fun, and old Dumpling seems to like it as well as any of us.”

”Yes, I suppose so,” said the Squire; ”but I should think he liked it best when you left him in peace, and he had got rid of such a pack of wild young dogs, baiting and bothering him. Now,” he continued, ”what are we going to do to-day?”

”Let's go and catch another great pike,” said Fred.

Mr Inglis laughed, and told him that they might go fifty times and not catch such another fish as the last; which I forgot to say in the proper place was baked by the cook, with what she called a pudding inside it, and eaten in triumph by the fis.h.i.+ng-party, aided by Mrs Inglis, and declared to be the best fish that ever came out of the river.

”Let's go botanising, Papa,” said Philip, ”and go up the Camp Hill. It would be so nice, and then we should have to take our dinners with us, and Mamma would come too. Oh, do let's go there. You'll come, won't you, Mamma?”

But Mamma declined, for she had promised to go out for a drive with a near neighbour; but said that she should much enjoy, the trip upon another occasion. It was therefore decided that there should be a botanising trip on the next day but two, the following day being Sat.u.r.day.

”Let's play cricket, Papa, and you come and bowl for us,” said Harry.