"Down too, down at your own fireside,
With the evil tongue and the evil ear,
For each is at war with mankind."
TENNYSON'S Maud.
Aunt Judy had gone to the nursery wardrobe to look over some clothes,
and the little ones were having a play to themselves. As she opened
the door, they were just coming to the end of an explosive burst of
laughter, in which all the five appeared to have joined, and which
they had some difficulty in stopping. No. 4, who was a biggish girl,
had giggled till the tears were running over her cheeks; and No. 8,
in sympathy, was leaning back in his tiny chair in a sort of ecstasy
of amusement.
The five little ones had certainly hit upon some very entertaining
game.
They were all (boys and girls alike) dressed up as elderly ladies,
with bits of rubbishy finery on their heads and round their
shoulders, to imitate caps and scarfs; the boys' hair being neatly
parted and brushed down the middle; and they were seated in form
round what was called "the Doll's Table," a concern just large enough
to allow of a small crockery tea-service, with cups and saucers and
little plates, being set out upon it.
"What have you got there?" was all Aunt Judy asked, as she went up to
the table to look at them.
"Cowslip-tea," was No. 4's answer, laying her hand on the fat pink
tea-pot; and thereupon the laughing explosion went off nearly as
loudly as before, though for no accountable reason that Aunt Judy
could divine.
"It's SO good, Aunt Judy, do taste it!" exclaimed No. 8, jumping up
in a great fuss, and holding up his little cup, full of a pale-buff
fluid, to Aunt Judy.
"You'll have everything over," cried No. 4, calling him to order; and
in truth the table was not the steadiest in the world.
So No. 8 sat down again, calling out, in an almost stuttering hurry,
"You may keep it all, Aunt Judy, I don't want any more."
But neither did Aunt Judy, after she had given it one taste; so she
put the cup down, thanking No. 8 very much, but pulling such a funny
face, that it set the laugh going once more; in the middle of which
No. 4 dropped an additional lump of sugar into the rejected buff-
coloured mixture, a proceeding which evidently gave No. 8 a new
relish for the beverage.
Aunt Judy had got beyond the age when cowslip-tea was looked upon as
one of the treats of life; and she had not, on the other hand, lived
long enough to love the taste of it for the memory's sake of the
enjoyment it once afforded.
Not but what we are obliged to admit that cowslip-tea is one of those
things which, even in the most enthusiastic days of youth, just falls
short of the absolute perfection one expects from it.
Even under those most favourable circumstances of having had the
delightful gathering of the flowers in the sweet sunny fields--the
picking of them in the happy holiday afternoon--the permission to use
the best doll's tea-service for the feast--the loan of a nice white
table-cloth--and the present of half-a-dozen pewter knives and forks
to fancy-cut the biscuits with--nay, even in spite of the addition of
well-filled doll's sugar-pots and cream-jugs--cowslip-tea always
seems to want either a leetle more or a leetle less sugar--or a
leetle more or a leetle less cream--or to be a leetle more or a
leetle less strong--to turn it into that complete nectar which, of
course, it really IS.
On the present occasion, however, the children had clearly got hold
of some other source of enjoyment over the annual cowslip-tea feast,
besides the beverage itself; and Aunt Judy, glad to see them so
safely happy, went off to her business at the wardrobe, while the
little ones resumed their game.
"Very extraordinary, indeed, ma'am!" began one of the fancy old
ladies, in a completely fancy voice, a little affected, or so. "MOST
extraordinary, ma'am, I may say!"
(Here there was a renewed giggle from No. 4, which she carefully
smothered in her handkerchief.)
"But still I think I can tell you of something more extraordinary
still!"
The speaker having at this point refreshed his ideas by a sip of the
pale-coloured tea, and the other ladies having laughed heartily in
anticipation of the fun that was coming, one of them observed:-
"You don't SAY so, ma'am--" then clicked astonishment with her tongue
against the roof of her mouth several times, and added impressively,
"PRAY let us hear!"
"I shall be most happy, ma'am," resumed the first speaker, with a
graceful inclination forwards. "Well!--you see--it was a party. I
had invited some of my most distinguished friends--really, ma'am,
FASHIONABLE friends, I may say, to dinner; and, ahem! you see--some
little anxiety always attends such affairs--even--in the best
regulated families!"
Here the speaker winked considerably at No. 4, and laughed very
loudly himself at his own joke.
"Dear me, you must excuse me, ma'am," he proceeded. "So, you see, I
felt a little fatigued by my morning's exertions, (to tell you the
truth, there had been no end of bother about everything!) and I
retired quietly up-stairs to take a short nap before the dressing-
bell rang. But I had not been laid down quite half an hour, when
there was a loud knock at the door. Really, ma'am, I felt quite
alarmed, but was just able to ask, 'Who's there?' Before I had time
to get an answer, however, the door was burst open by the housemaid.
Her face was absolute scarlet, and she sobbed out:-
"'Oh, ma'am, what shall we do?'
"'Good gracious, Hannah,' cried I, 'what can be the matter? Has the
soot come down the chimney? Speak!'
"'It's nothing of that sort, ma'am,' answered Hannah, 'it's the
cook!'
"'The cook!' I shouted. 'I wish you would not be so foolish, Hannah,
but speak out at once. What about Cook?'
"'Please, m'm, the cook's lost!' says Hannah. 'We can't find her!'
"'Your wits are lost, Hannah, _I_ think,' cried I, and sent her to
tidy the rooms while I slipt downstairs to look for the cook.
"Fancy a lost cook, ma'am! Was there ever such a ridiculous idea?
And on the day of a dinner-party too! Did you ever hear of such a
trial to a lady's feelings before?"
"Never, I am sure," responded the lady opposite. "Did YOU, ma'am?"
turning to her neighbour.
But the other three ladies all shook their heads, bit their lips, and
declared that they "Never had, they were sure!"
"I thought not!" ejaculated the narrator. "Well, ma'am, I went into
the kitchens, the larder, the pantries, the cellars, and all sorts of
places, and still no cook! Do you know, she really was nowhere!
Actually, ma'am, the cook was lost!"
Shouts of laughter burst forth here; but the lady (who was No. 5) put
up his hand, and called out in his own natural tones:-
"Stop! I haven't got to the end yet!"
"Order!" proclaimed No. 4 immediately, in a very commanding voice,
and thumping the table with the head of an old wooden doll to enforce
obedience.
And then the sham lady proceeded in the same mincing voice as
before:-
"Well!--dear me, I'm quite put out. But however, you see--what was
to be done, that was the thing. It wanted only half an hour to
dinner-time, and there was the meat roasting away by itself, and the
potatoe-pan boiling over. You never heard such a fizzling as it made
in your life--in short, everything was in a mess, and there was no
cook.
"Well! I basted the meat for a few minutes, took the potatoe-pan off
the fire, and then ran up-stairs to put on my bonnet. Thought I, the
best thing I can do is to send somebody for the policeman, and let
HIM find the cook. But while I was tying the strings of my bonnet, I
fancied I heard a mysterious noise coming out of the bottom drawer of
my wardrobe. Fancy that, ma'am, with my nerves in such a state from
the cook being lost!"
No. 5 paused, and looked round for sympathy, which was most freely
given by the other ladies, in the shape of sighs and exclamations.
"The drawer was a very deep drawer, ma'am, so I thought perhaps the
cat had crept in," continued No. 5. "Well, I went to it to see, and
there it was, partly open, with a cotton gown in it that didn't
belong to me. Imagine my feelings at THAT, ma'am! So I pulled at
the handles to get the drawer quite open, but it wouldn't come, it
was as heavy as lead. It was really very alarming--one doesn't like
such odd things happening--but at last I got it open, though I
tumbled backwards as I did so; and what do you think, ma'am--ladies--
what DO you think was in it?"
"The cook!" shrieked No. 4, convulsed with laughter; and the whole
party clapped their hands and roared applause.
"The cook, ma'am, actually the cook!" pursued No. 5, "one of the
fattest, most POONCHY little women you ever saw. And what do you
think was the history of it? I kept my up-stairs Pickwick in the
corner of that bottom drawer. She had seen it there that very
morning, when she was helping to dust the room, and took the
opportunity of a spare half-hour to slip up and rest herself by
reading it in the drawer. Unluckily, however, she had fallen asleep,
and when I got the drawer out, there she lay, and I actually heard
her snore. A shocking thing this education, ma'am, you see, and
teaching people to read. All the cooks in the country are spoilt!"
Peals of laughter greeted this wonderfully witty concoction of No.
5's, and the lemon-coloured tea and biscuits were partaken of during
the pause which followed.
Aunt Judy meanwhile, who had been quite unable to resist joining in
the laugh herself, was seated on the floor, behind the open door of
the wardrobe, thinking to herself of certain passages in Wordsworth's
most beautiful ode, in which he has described the play of children,
"As if their whole vocation
Were endless imitation."