WAS IT CRUEL?
One lovely afternoon towards the end of September Mrs. Dashwood and
Miss Kerr sat together on the lawn in front of the house. They were
stitching away at some pretty clothes, that were evidently intended
for a large wax doll, with golden ringlets and blue eyes, that lay
on a table that stood between them on the grass.
Mrs. Dashwood looked pale and delicate still, but there was a
well-pleased smile upon her sweet face as she sat enjoying the sea
breezes. She was comfortably propped up with pillows in a large
wicker chair, and her thin white fingers were busily engaged on her
dainty work. The fresh country air had done her great service, and
she was full of the hope that she should soon return quite strong
and well to town.
Bunny lay curled up in another big chair, and although she knew very
well that the pretty doll was intended for her, she looked very
cross and did not seem to notice what was going on about her.
"Why don't you go and play, Bunny?" said Miss Kerr looking up from
her work. "I do not like to see you tumbling about there with such a
cross look on your face. Go and get a book--or will you have a
needle and thread and try to do some sewing?"
"No, thank you," answered Bunny, "I hate books and I can't sew."
"But you might learn, dear," said her mother gently. "It is a great
pleasure to be able to sew, Bunny. I quite enjoy doing my piece of
work after being obliged to lie on the sofa for such a long time."
"I don't want to learn to sew," cried Bunny. "I want to have a game.
I am tired sitting here, mama. Oh, I do wish Mervyn and Frank would
be quick and come back."
"Well, my dear Bunny, they will soon be here," said Miss Kerr. "They
promised to be back at three and it wants a quarter to three now, so
you won't have very long to wait."
"Oh! I'm so glad!" cried Bunny; "I've spent such a nasty dull day
without them."
"Well, really now!" said her mother laughing; "that's a kind thing
to say. I thought my little girl liked being with me."
"Oh! yes, mama, so I do," answered Bunny quickly; "but Mervyn has
been away such a long time, and I do want him to come back and have
a good game with me. He stayed to lunch with Frank up there at the
hotel, and Miss Kerr wouldn't let me go, and oh, dear! I have been
so lonely all day."
"Poor little girl!" said her mother, "but Miss Kerr was quite right
not to let you go, Bunny; Frank will have quite enough to do to
manage Mervyn. You are very hard to keep in order, for you are very
wild and--"
"Oh! I'm not a bit wild now, mama; I'm as quiet as a lamb--I am
indeed."
"Bunny, Bunny, where are you, I say?--where are you?" called Mervyn,
running up the garden walk and across the lawn.
"Here I am, Mervyn, and oh! I am so glad you have come back," and
the little girl rushed forward eagerly to meet her cousin. "But
where is Frank? I thought he was coming back with you."
"Yes, so he is. He will be here in a minute; and he has something
for you, Bunny."
"Something for me, Mervyn; oh! what is it?" she cried; "do tell me
what it is."
"He'll tell you himself--he'll tell you himself," answered Mervyn,
and going down on the grass, he tumbled heels over head two or three
times in succession.
"You tiresome boy," cried his cousin, "do get up and tell me what
Frank has for me, and where he got it, and--"
"Go and ask Frank himself--there he is," shouted Mervyn, starting
quickly to his feet again, as young Collins appeared suddenly at the
top of the flight of steps that led from the drawing-room into the
garden. His hands were both behind his back, and he laughed merrily
when he saw Bunny's face of excitement and curiosity as she ran
across the lawn to meet him.
"You dear good Frank, Mervyn says you have something for me," she
cried; "do tell me what it is. I do so want to know."
"A bird, Bunny; a young thrush," said Frank gaily, as he drew a
small cage from behind his back and held it up to the little girl.
"I put him in here because it was the only thing I could find; but I
will get you a proper big cage for him to-morrow."
"Oh! never mind the cage; but let me see the bird," cried Bunny.
"He is rather frightened just now, Bun, but I think he will soon sit
up and begin to sing; and thrushes do sing beautifully."
"He is a dear little fellow! a perfect darling! But where did you
get him, Frank?" asked Bunny in delight, as she danced joyfully
round her new treasure. "Did you manage to put salt on his tail?"
"He hasn't got a tail, Bunny," answered Frank, laughing; "he is so
young that he hasn't got one yet. I caught him quite easily in the
hotel garden."
"Mama, Miss Kerr, look at the lovely bird Frank has brought me,"
cried Bunny, running back to her mother's chair.
"A bird, Frank?" said Mrs. Dashwood, looking into the cage in
surprise. "What a pity it was to catch him and put him in prison,
poor little creature; he looks dreadfully frightened."
"In prison, mama!" cried Bunny indignantly. "Why, it's a lovely
cage; and see, he has water, and hard-boiled egg, and bread sopped
in water, and--"
"Yes, dear, I see all those things, but still he is in prison,
Bunny," said Mrs. Dashwood gently, "and I think it would have been
much kinder to have left him to fly about the woods and sing his
sweet songs in happy freedom."
"I am afraid he will never sing again," said Miss Kerr as Frank
placed the cage on the table beside her; "he looks as if he were
going to die, I think; just see how he has gathered himself up into
a ball, and his eyes are shut."
"Oh! I hope he won't die," cried Frank; "I am sorry I caught him,
Mrs. Dashwood. Shall I let him fly away again?"
"No, you sha'n't, Frank; he is my bird, and you must not let him fly
away," cried Bunny; "I want to keep him."
"But, Bunny, your mama thinks he would be glad to get away, so I
would rather let him go. Do say I may send him off."
"No, no, Frank, you sha'n't; I want him; he's mine now," answered
the little girl in an angry voice; "I will have him and keep him;"
and making a dive across the table she seized the cage and ran away
with it down the garden.
"Bunny! Bunny! come back this minute," cried her mother and Miss
Kerr together.
"I'll soon bring her back!" exclaimed Frank, and off he went after
the runaway.
When Bunny heard footsteps behind her she turned her head to see who
it was that was following her, and as she ran along without looking
where she was going, her foot came against a stone, and down she
went, cage and all, upon the gravelled path.
"Oh, you cruel big boy!" she cried, bursting into tears. "Why did
you come after me and make me fall in that way? I'll never speak to
you again--never;" and, gathering herself up from the ground, she
began to rub her knees, and brush the dust and sand off her frock.
"Now, don't be silly, Bunny," said Frank, as he picked up the cage.
"You are not a bit hurt--but, look here! I believe you have killed
the poor bird."
"Oh! no, Frank, dear! oh! I didn't do that!" sobbed the little girl,
coming forward and looking wistfully into the cage.
"Yes, I am afraid he is dead. He was very much frightened before,"
said Frank sadly, "and the shock of the fall, and all the water and
things falling on him have killed him. I am so sorry. I wish, now, I
had left him to sing happily in the garden, Mrs. Dashwood," he said,
going back to where the ladies sat together, carrying the poor dead
thrush in his hand. "You were quite right; it was a great pity to
take the poor bird and put him in a cage. I will never catch a young
bird again--never."
"Poor little creature! I thought it would not live long," said Miss
Kerr; "but, Bunny, you were very naughty to run away with it in that
way; I am sure the fall helped to kill the thrush."
"I didn't mean to kill it!" cried Bunny in a choking voice. "Oh!
mama, I am so sorry!" and she flung herself on the ground beside her
mother's chair, and buried her face in her lap.
"Never mind, Bunny, dear," whispered Mervyn softly, as he stole up
and put his arm round her neck. "Don't cry, dear; I am sure it would
have died very soon anyway. Wouldn't it, Miss Kerr?"
"Yes, dear, I think it would," said the governess gently. "But what
are you going to do with the thrush, Frank?"
"Oh! I suppose I must bury it," answered Frank; "I wish I had a
pretty box to put it in."
"I have one, I have one," cried Bunny, jumping quickly to her feet,
and running off towards the house, mopping up her tears as she went
along. "I've got a dear little one that will just do, Frank."
"We must have a solemn funeral," said young Collins. "Who will write
an epitaph to put at the head of his grave?"
"An epee--what, Frank?" asked Mervyn, with a puzzled look on his
little face. "What do you mean?"
"An epitaph, you little simple Indian; do you not know what that
means?"
"No," said Mervyn gravely, "I don't think people in India ever have
such things."
"Don't they indeed! Bunny, what is an epitaph?" asked Frank,
laughing merrily as he took a pretty bon-bon box from the little
girl's hand.
"I don't know, I'm sure," said Bunny; "I never heard of such a
thing. What is it yourself?"
"Well, you are a clever pair! Why, it's something written on a
tombstone," cried Frank, and, taking a piece of paper out of his
pocket, he scribbled a few words, and then proceeded to read them
aloud. "Listen and learn what an epitaph is, my friends:--
"Beneath there lies a little thrush,
Who should have sung on many a bush."
"Capital!" said Miss Kerr, laughing merrily at this brilliant
production. "Why, you are a regular poet!"
"It is very good indeed, Frank," said Mrs. Dashwood with a bright
smile. "Now, Mervyn, I hope you know what an epitaph is?"
"Yes, I think so," said Mervyn slowly; "but no one says bush like
thrush. It doesn't sound at all right."
"Hallo! young Indian, are you going to find fault with my
pronunciation? Isn't it splendid, Miss Bun, bun?"
"I'm not bun, bun, and I think Mervyn is quite right," answered the
little girl with a toss of her head. "It sounds very funny, and all
that, but it isn't the proper way to say the word, I know."
"Of course not, little Miss Wisehead, but we are allowed to say all
kinds of things in poetry," said Frank grandly; "and I can tell you
it's jolly convenient when a fellow wants a rhyme. But now that we
have decided this knotty point, let us go and look for a nice place
where we can bury the little fellow;" and, having placed the thrush
in the box, he went off to look for a suitable burying-place.
"Put him in my little garden," cried Bunny eagerly. "There are
lovely flowers there, and we can make him such a nice grave."
"Where is your garden, monkey?" said Frank. "I did not know you had
such a thing."
"Yes, I have; at least I call it mine," answered Bunny, skipping
gaily along. "It's a dear little flower-bed down there by the
sun-dial, and it will be such a pretty place for the poor dead bird.
Do bury him there, Frank."
"Very well; what pleases you pleases me," and off they went to
Bunny's garden.
Very carefully Frank dug up the earth, and, having placed the bird
within the grave, he filled it in neatly, took a lovely geranium
from a neighbouring flower-bed, and planted it just over the poor
songster's head.
"We must water it," cried Bunny, "or it will not grow," and away she
rushed to the tool-house. Here she found the gardener's
watering-pot, and, unfortunately for them all, it was more than
half-full of water.
"This will make the flowers grow beautifully," she cried; and before
the boys had time to speak or stop her hand, she tilted up the heavy
pot and sent the water flying all over their feet and legs.
"Oh! Bunny, Bunny! just see what you have done," exclaimed Mervyn,
beginning to cry as he felt the cold water soaking in through his
stockings and shoes. "Oh, dear! what shall I do?"
"You little mischief!" cried Frank, shaking himself. "What on earth
made you do that?"
"Oh! I wanted the flower to grow," said Bunny, bursting into tears,
"and I did not mean to wet you and Mervyn at all; and look at my own
pinafore and frock. Oh, dear! what will Sophie say?"
"Sophie will say you are a naughty, wicked little creature," cried
the maid, darting out suddenly from behind a tree. "Come in this
minute and get your things changed. Monsieur Mervyn, go to the
nursery at once."
"I won't go! I won't go a bit!" cried Bunny, stamping her foot
angrily. "The sun will dry me in a minute, and I won't go with you;
so there!"
"Come along, Bunny, like a good girl," said Mervyn, "let us run fast
and see who will get up to the nursery first," and away he went up
the path as fast as he could.
"I won't go, Sophie. I want to stay with Frank," cried Bunny once
more, as she caught the boy's hand and held on to it tightly.
"You ought to go, dear, indeed you ought," said Frank. "See, Mervyn
has gone, and you know you should always do what Sophie tells you."
"No, I won't; she's a nasty thing! and it's twice as nice out here,
so I won't go one bit."
"Your mama and Miss Kerr have returned to the house, and you must
come in and get changed your dress, mademoiselle."
"I won't! I won't," shrieked Bunny, clinging more closely to Frank,
and turning her back upon her nurse in a most impertinent manner.
"We shall see if you do not, you bad, naughty child," cried Sophie
in an angry voice, and running forward she seized the little girl in
her arms, and carried her off screaming and kicking into the house.
[Illustration: Chapter decoration.]