"THE UNITED KINGDOM"
"AND is he coming to-day? Really to-day? And will he be about as old as
we are? How scrumptious!"
"His name is Puggy; and Blanche, mother's maid, says he's a terror!"
Christina's eyes were round as she gave Dawn this information.
"How jolly! Has he been sent away from school? Why is he coming before
the holidays?"
"His school has got scarlet fever. He is just as old as you Dawn, but
mother says he's quite different to you."
"Should think so!" said Dawn in tones of scorn. "There's no one like me
in the world, dad says so!"
"I wonder," said Christina meditatively, "if there's a little girl just
like me anywhere."
"Dad says God never makes a duplicate anywhere; isn't that a lovely
long word, and I learnt another yesterday. It was volatile: it means
me, but it isn't very nice. Dad called me a volatile elf, so I pelted
him with chestnut skins in the garden till he told me what it meant.
Why is he called Puggy? It sounds like a pug-dog."
"I asked father, and he laughed. 'It suits him because he's
pugnacious,' he said."
"That's another breather! What does it mean?"
Christina shook her head.
"I keep thinking of Blanche's words, 'a terror.' I expect he'll be a
terror to me."
"Now," said Dawn, shaking his fist in her face, "you think of your
motto, and don't you dare to talk of any one being a terror to you. And
if he is, you bring him along to me, and I'll fight him!"
"Oh," said Christina, "you never would! That would be awful! I always
thought it so wicked to fight, but mother does, so I suppose it's what
she calls 'sport'!"
"Your mother fight?"
Dawn looked very puzzled. He was in the garden with Christina, and
tired with running about, they were now taking a rest on the top of a
low wall in the kitchen garden.
"Yes," said Christina with a grave nod; "mother and a lot of ladies all
fought each other with sticks in a field at the bottom of the lawn over
there. They were fighting for a ball, and they all tried to hit each
other. I ran away, because I couldn't bear to look at them."
"Oh, you goose! That was a game of hockey. They weren't hitting each
other, only the ball. You really ought to learn some games, Tina; you
don't know anything at all!"
"It frightened me," pursued Christina. "I've never seen ladies play at
games like that!"
"You wait till this boy comes, then we'll do an awful lot of things;
oh, I wish I could stay to see him! Do you think I could run off to the
station and see him arrive? What train does he come by?"
"Mother is going to meet him herself; she said she would. I think it's
at four o'clock."
"I'll be there then," said Dawn, "and I think I'll leave you now.
Good-bye."
He was away like the wind, and Christina, feeling it very dull to be in
the garden alone, went indoors. She was full of curiosity over the new
arrival, but as usual her fears were uppermost.
"There are so many happenings!" she told herself gravely. "I never
shall get to like them. And a strange boy is worse than a strange
nurse, or a strange father and mother!"
She was sitting at her nursery tea when Puggy made his appearance. Her
stepmother led him forward:
"This is my baby brother, Tina. He does not look a baby, does he? You
must be very good friends. He will help you to eat up that plate of
bread and butter very quickly. Now, Puggy, be on your best behaviour
remember; and when you are in the nursery, do what Nurse tells you."
Puggy was a short, sturdy boy, only half a head taller than Christina
herself. His hair was closely cropped, and it was of a reddish tinge.
Blue eyes, a very round mouth and snub nose and freckled face, these
belonged to Puggy, and his name seemed to suit him.
He sat down to the table in utter silence. Christina looked across the
table at him very fearfully. Mrs. Maclahan had left the room, and Nurse
began to pour out a cup of very weak tea.
The children's eyes met, then Puggy winked his eye knowingly at
Christina. The colour flow into her cheeks, what was she to do? She
could not wink back, and she was too shy to speak.
Nurse broke the silence.
"What is your name, my dear?"
"Puggy."
"You were not christened Puggy."
"Wasn't I? I don't remember being at my christening. I s'pose I was
there."
Then his round lips widened into a smile.
"My proper name is John Durward, but you are to call me Master Puggy
always."
Nurse looked at him sternly, but said nothing; then Puggy addressed
Christina:
"You'll have to call me Uncle Puggy."
Christina's eyes became round with wonder. This astonishing statement
made her forget her shyness.
"I didn't know little boys could be uncles."
"Oh, can't they! And their nieces have to do what they tell them,
always!"
"But you're not a proper uncle. You didn't belong to me when—when I was
born."
Puggy looked taken aback. He appealed to Nurse.
"Isn't a fellow uncle to his sister's child?"
Nurse smiled.
"You are no relation to Miss Tina, leastways only a step-uncle."
"Well, that's good enough."
He nodded across at Christina triumphantly.
There was not much more talk between them till after tea, and then
somehow or other Christina's shyness melted away, and she found herself
talking to Puggy as she talked to Dawn. She told him all about her
little playfellow; she showed him her toys and games; and he in his
turn waxed confidential.
"I'd like to know that fellow. I believe I saw him at the station;
there was a boy with a mop of hair who stared at me as if I were a
gorilla. I'll teach him manners when I see him! Look here, just come
over the house with me. I want to know my way about."
"But," said Christina feebly, "I don't know my way properly. All the
rooms have been locked up till father came home."
"Come on, and let's find them out now. We must do something. It's too
slow in this old nursery!"
Christina looked round to ask permission of Nurse, but she had
disappeared. So feeling as if she were going into a strange country,
she followed the enterprising Puggy out on the landing, and they
commenced their investigations. The corridors were long, and some rooms
were still locked up, but they peeped into a good many, and at last
found themselves before an old arched door at the very end of the upper
corridor. One of the under housemaids appeared from the back stairs,
and looked quite astonished when she saw the children. Christina spoke
to her.
"We want to go through this door Ann, may we?"
"Oh, lawks, Miss Tina! That's up to the turret room that has a ghost. I
never goes by that door after dark if I can help it!"
Christina's cheeks blanched, she shrank back. Puggy danced up and down
with delight.
"Hurrah for the ghost! Come on, we'll rout him out, and the door isn't
locked!"
"Don't you go up those steps, there's a good child, Miss Tina."
Puggy had swung the door open, and a winding stone staircase disclosed
itself to them.
"I'm sure we'd better not go," said Christina, looking at the dusky
steps with horror.
"Who's the ghost?" demanded Puggy valiantly.
"I dunno. It's just some one that walks about the room there and makes
a noise. Mr. Tipton has heard it often. He sleeps in the room there,
close to the staircase."
"Let us wait till to-morrow," suggested Christina.
But Puggy was bent on going up the steps that moment, and would have
dragged his shrinking little companion after him if a call from Mrs.
Maclahan had not stopped him.
Christina hailed the appearance of her stepmother with relief and
delight.
"Why, what on earth are you doing here?" she asked, as she came up to
them.
Puggy explained, and his sister laughed merrily.
"A ghost! What nonsense! And Tina believes it from the look in her
eyes! Come down to the library both of you. We're having tea there,
and your father wants to see you, Tina. We'll ask him about the ghost.
To-morrow you can explore the house as much as you like."
So down to the library they went, and the blazing fire and the cosy
tea that Mr. and Mrs. Maclahan were enjoying did much to drive away
Christina's fresh fears.
"No," said Mr. Maclahan, taking hold of his small daughter and perching
her on his knee; "we have no ghosts in this house I am glad to say. I
used to have the turret room at the top of those stairs as my den as
a boy, and if you think well, Ena dear, we will turn it over to these
children now."
"I think it would be a capital idea. I fancy Puggy is too much like me
to care to be long in that ill-ventilated nursery."
Christina did not know whether to be glad or sorry that she was to be
introduced to the unknown room; but Puggy was enthusiastic. He turned
to her father with a comic look of perplexity on his face.
"Please what am I to call you? Herbert, like Ena does?"
"No," his sister said sharply. "If we give you an inch you'll take an
ell. You have no respect for anybody!"
Puggy smiled radiantly.
"It isn't my fault!" he said. "You made him my brother, I didn't; and
Tina ought to call me uncle! May I call him the 'Squire' like the
porters did at the station?"
"Yes," said his sister; "and mind you're a good boy, and don't lead
Tina into scrapes."
"You won't be such a reader now you have some one to play with," said
Mr. Maclahan, addressing his little daughter.
Christina looked round the room thoughtfully. "I like books best," she
said, "and Dawn will play with Puggy."
"No," said her stepmother quickly. "Games are better than books for
you, Tina, and I shall see that you have them. But Dawn can come over
here every day if he chooses. I like that boy!"
The very next morning being bright and sunny, Christina was turned out
into the garden to play with Puggy, and they had not been out a quarter
of an hour before Dawn made his appearance. He came with bulging
pockets, and produced for Puggy's edification first a white mouse, then
a mechanical motor-car, and then a bag of nuts.
"I know all about you," he said, shaking back his curls. "Tina has told
me, and I've come to look round with you. Do you like mice? This one is
a darling! When he isn't in my pocket, I carry him on my head inside my
cap. Dad brought me such a jolly motor-car. You can light it with real
oil and it goes like the wind. Like to see it? Here are some nuts for
you, Tina."
They were good friends at once, and so full of fun and spirits that
Christina's laugh rang out again and again, yet before very long, the
first sign of dissent between them arose.
"Tina, go into the house and fetch me my knife. I left it on the
nursery table."
It was Puggy who spoke, and his tone was peremptory. He added, as
Christina obediently walked away: "That's the good of girls to fetch
and carry. They're good for nothing else."
He wanted to impress Dawn with his manliness, but Dawn knew better. He
flushed up at once.
"Dad says only cannibals and savages make girls work for them,
gentlemen never do; at least Englishmen don't!"
"You don't call yourself an Englishman, do you? I heard my sister say
this morning that your father was a poor Irish artist. You're a Paddy,
that's what you are!"
"A Paddy can be a gentleman!" retorted Dawn, springing up from the
ground where he had been playing with Nibble his mouse, and pocketing
the little creature in furious haste.
Puggy laughed scornfully.
"Paddies are always beggars. They live with pigs and chickens in bog
cabins. I know all about them. We have two Paddies at my school. One
tells lies, and the other never washes!"
"And what are you? A brag and a bully!"
Dawn's cheeks were scarlet, his eyes flashing fire. Puggy made a dash
at him, and the next moment both boys were fighting. Jackets were
tossed aside, sleeves tucked up, and if Puggy hit away with dogged
persistence, Dawn perplexed him by his many sided onslaughts: dancing
here and there, he was never in the same place for a second, and they
were in the very thick of it when poor little Christina came back from
her errand.
She was aghast at the sight. Both boys were bleeding, but neither gave
way. After one despairing cry, she fled into the house, and burst in
upon her father and stepmother, who were in the library.
"They're killing each other! Stop them! Oh, do come quick!"
Mrs. Maclahan laughed at the horror in her tones.
"Fighting, I suppose," she said. "I knew Puggy would be at it. Leave
them alone, Tina. It's only the first go off! They'll be the better
friends after it."
"But!" gasped Christina. "They're hurting each other! It's so wicked to
fight, oh, do stop them!"
Her father rose and looked at his wife humorously.
"My dear, Christina has not your constitution, and I'm not fond of
fights. Puggy must learn to control himself. Come along, Tina. Where
are these young combatants?"
Christina led him into the garden breathlessly.
"Dawn has never fought any one before, I'm sure he hasn't, and oh!
They're hurting each other so!"
When they arrived on the scene, the boys were rolling over on the
ground; Dawn was undermost, but if his body was getting the worst of
it, his spirit was unbroken; and when Mr. Maclahan's stern voice broke
in upon them, and they both rose to their feet, he exclaimed, "We'll
have another round!"
"That you won't! Puggy, is this the way you treat your visitor? Shake
hands and be friends, and remember that I never allow fights in my
house or grounds."
Neither of the boys was unwilling to make peace; but Christina stood
beside them sobbing bitterly.
"Oh," she cried, "you're both so hurt! How could you hurt each other
so!"
"Pooh!" said Puggy, marching off to the house with a black eye, a
bleeding nose and bruised knuckles. "What sillies girls are to make
such a fuss!"
Dawn looked up at Mr. Maclahan with his irrepressible twinkle. His
face was damaged too, and a bump on his forehead stood out as big as a
pigeon's egg.
"I've been fighting for my country," he said, "and for a girl. Dad will
not scold me!"
Later on, when the boys had washed and anointed their wounds, Mrs.
Maclahan came out to talk to them. She turned to her husband when he
joined them, saying laughingly:
"Do you know this small trio represent the United Kingdom? Your small
daughter is Scotch by birth, and may I say by her stern morality? Dawn
is a veritable Paddy, and my pugnacious brother a thorough little John
Bull. I hope they will do each other good."
From that day Mrs. Maclahan always alluded to the children as the
"United Kingdom." They liked the idea and never lost sight of it in
their games. After that first fight, Dawn and Puggy were the best of
friends; Christina followed them everywhere, and though she admired
Puggy's pluck and determination and his perseverance in carrying
through anything he attempted, however hard it proved to be, her heart
remained faithful to her sunny-tempered, easy-going boy friend, Dawn.
Puggy was soon introduced to Miss Bertha.
At first he was inclined to be indifferent to her.
"Old ladies are such fidgets!" he said.
But Dawn and Christina attacked him with such violence for saying a
slighting word of their best friend that he collapsed, and after one
visit to the tiny house and a tea such as all boys love, he confided to
them that Miss Bertha was a "proper brick," and her house was "ripping."
"And how are things going, Childie," Miss Bertha asked Christina, just
before she left her.
"Oh, I like Puggy," the little girl responded brightly. "I'm never dull
now, we do such a lot of things; but Nurse is soon going away, that's
the most dreadful thing!"
Miss Bertha smiled.
"Your 'dreadful things' are not so dreadful when they come. Can't you
trust God about that?"
Christina looked wistful.
"I am trying not to be afraid. I keep saying my text over and over, and
it does help me."
"Of course it does. I think you ought to be a very happy little girl."
And Christina went home thinking that she was.