Part 15 (2/2)

”I know you weren't,” said Philip.

”How do you know that?” said Harry.

”How do you know that you were?” said Philip.

”Because I felt so,” said Harry.

”Well, so did I,” said Philip.

”Oh! bother,” said Harry, finding no bottom to the argument. ”I know who was most tired; it was Fred, for he went to sleep first with a bit of bread and b.u.t.ter in his mouth.”

”I didn't,” said Fred, indignantly.

”That you did; didn't he, Philip? and Pa and Ma both laughed at him; and I wasn't so sleepy but that I saw Pa get Kirby and Spence's 'Tomology'

down to read, and lean back in his chair himself--now then!”

During this dispute no progress was made in the dressing; but, upon Harry suggesting that they should go and peep at the specimens they obtained on the previous evening, they all scrambled through the rest of their dressing, and hurried down to the Study, where all the boxes had been placed overnight.

Harry finished dressing first, and would have run down stairs, but was prevented by Philip, who locked the door, and then pa.s.sed the key to Fred, so that Master Harry was compelled to wait until the others were ready. At last they descended by sliding down the banisters, Philip leading off, and Harry nearly upsetting him at the bottom by sliding down too quickly and coming into sharp contact. At last they burst, pell-mell, into the study, as if they were soldiers about to sack a town, and perhaps, too, a little more impetuously.

”Gently, gently,” said Mr Inglis, who was sitting there reading; ”what's the matter?”

”Oh! Papa, we did not know you were here; we came to look at the specimens,” said Philip.

But the specimens were not to be touched till the afternoon, for Mr Inglis was going over to the town. But he promised that the microscope should be brought out in the evening, and then sent the boys into the breakfast parlour, where they found Mrs Inglis making the tea.

Breakfast being finished, Mr Inglis started off through the miserable, wet, drenching morning, and the boys were left to amuse themselves as best they could, which they did by getting ready their fis.h.i.+ng-tackle for the promised trip to Lord Copsedale's lake, which had been almost forgotten, so many amus.e.m.e.nts had been awaiting them day after day; but which it was now decided by Harry should take place on the following Tuesday morning.

To the great delight of all, about twelve o'clock the clouds began to break, and the sun to peep out, so that by the time Mr Inglis returned it was quite a fine afternoon, and he promised that he would go with them in the evening to destroy the wasps' nest, while the afternoon being so fine left them at liberty to have a run and amuse themselves with out-door sports,--always remembering, that the microscope was to be brought out in the evening, the taking of the wasps' nest being only looked upon as a small portion of what was to be done.

Mr Inglis got very little a.s.sistance over the arrangement of his specimens, for the excitement of catching them being past, Harry and Philip cared very little for the more delicate operations of pinning out and arranging, which required great care and nicety--the tender wings of a b.u.t.terfly showing every rude touch and finger-mark in the despoiled feathers or plumes with which its pinions are adorned.

Mr Inglis was sitting in his study very busily engaged in this manner, and surrounded with entomological pins, when he saw the boys dash by the window in company with d.i.c.k to hunt for water-rats by the river side.

d.i.c.k had be willing enough to go, for weather seemed no object to him-- hail, rain, or suns.h.i.+ne, he was always ready for a hunt, race, or anything, and, by his actions, showed that he would far rather run after nothing at all than be tied-up by his kennel; this tying up being a task not easy to perform unless he was tired out, for d.i.c.k used to be seized with deaf fits upon these occasions, and would scamper off in some other direction, and at last have to be hunted out and ignominiously dragged to his chain, most likely by one ear, as we have seen when he was out after the snakes; for a lover of liberty was d.i.c.k, one who abhorred chains as fully as any negro dragged from the burning coast of Africa; but the poor fellow was compelled to wear the chain for long hours every day, and therefore his reluctance to return to his collar when, once he was free of it. But upon this afternoon the dog was in full enjoyment of his liberty, and off to the river side, as I have said before, to have a rat hunt.

It was a capital hunt the boys had that afternoon, although nothing was captured; still d.i.c.k almost had hold of one great wet fellow by the tail, which he just managed to save by das.h.i.+ng into his hole as the dog came up to it, and stood barking and snapping his teeth because he was so disappointed. There was no end of rat holes in the bank overhanging the river, but it appeared as though the little animals had an instinctive aversion to making the acquaintance of a dog, for snug enough they kept themselves in the above-named holes, and, as it appeared after a couple of hours' search that no rats were to be obtained, the lads slowly sauntered back to the Grange in rather a disappointed frame of mind. But the boys consoled themselves with the idea that there was to be some good fun in the evening, when the wasps'

nest would be taken; and at last, without any further adventure than that of d.i.c.k hunting somebody's ducklings through the horse-pond, and having to be pelted with large pebbles to keep him from catching one of them--greatly to the disgust of the owner, who would have been in a great pa.s.sion, only he knew to whom the dog belonged, and also knew that if any mischief befel the ducklings he would be well recompensed for his loss. However, d.i.c.k was persuaded to leave the pond at last, and, after making a sort of canine fountain of himself as he shook the water out of his coat, he consented to walk quietly home behind his young masters, and was safely chained up by his kennel, to doze away the time, with the raven for company, until the next run he could obtain with the boys.

As soon as tea was over, Mr Inglis made preparations for taking the wasps' nest, by making Harry take a spade and dig out a piece of stiff yellow clay from down by the little gravel pit; and then, after he had well-kneaded the ma.s.s, the fumigating bellows were once more obtained, plenty of hot cinders placed inside, and upon them a small quant.i.ty of flour of brimstone; after which the garden was crossed, the plantation reached, and the fallen tree reconnoitred.

The sun was just setting, and the busy day hum of the wasps hushed to a faint, low murmur, while not a single insect could be seen either going in or out of the hole. Mr Inglis then made Harry apply the ma.s.s of clay to the nozzle of the bellows, and fix it tightly round them, so that when the instrument was applied to the hole the clay could be pushed close up, and every cranny closed by the plastic ma.s.s, so that nothing but the deadly vapour would go in.

At last all was ready, and the first puff was given by Philip, for he was operating under the direction of his father. At that first puff of the bellows the faint hum within the fallen tree increased to almost a roar, as the infuriated little insects vainly rushed about to gain an exit from the suffocating prison in which they were closely confined.

Upon hearing the noise Philip almost dropped the bellows, but, at a word from his father, he kept on steadily--puff--puff--puff, till the noise within the tree grew fainter and fainter, and at last entirely ceased; and then they knew that the fatal work was done then the bellows were withdrawn, the hole carefully closed up with clay, and the tree left as it was till the Monday morning, when Sam was to get some wedges and a beetle and split it open, so as to obtain the nest without damage, if possible. Harry was for having the tree split at once, but Mr Inglis was of opinion that it had better be left as it was for the time, and led the way towards the house.

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