THE LONG LADDER.
There was a young pickle, and what do you think?
He liv'd upon nothing but victuals and drink;
Victuals and drink were the chief of his diet,
And yet this young pickle could never be quiet.
One fine sultry day in the month of August, Harry and Laura stood at the
breakfast-room window, wondering to see the large broken white clouds,
looking like curds and whey, while the sun was in such a blaze of heat,
that every thing seemed almost red hot. The street door had become
blistered by the sun-beams. Jowler the dog lay basking on the pavement;
the green blinds were closed at every opposite house; the few gentlemen
who ventured out, were fanning themselves with their pocket
handkerchiefs; the ladies were strolling lazily along, under the
umbrageous shade of their green parasols; and the poor people who were
accustomed in winter to sell matches for lighting a fire, now carried
about gaudy paper hangings for the empty grates. Lady Harriet found the
butter so melted at breakfast, that she could scarcely lift it on her
knife; and uncle David complained that the sight of hot smoking tea put
him in a fever, and said he wished it could be iced.
"I wonder how iced porridge would taste!" said Harry. "I put mine at the
open window to cool, but that only made it seem hotter. We were talking
of the gentleman you mentioned yesterday, who toasted his muffins at a
volcano; and certainly yours might almost be done at the drawing-room
window this morning."
"Wait till you arrive at the countries I have visited, where, as
somebody remarked, the very salamanders die of heat. At Agra, which is
the hottest part of India, we could scarcely write a letter, because the
ink dries in the pen before you can get it to the paper. I was obliged,
when our regiment was there, to lie down in the middle of the day,
during several hours, actually gasping for breath; and to make up for
that, we all rose at midnight. An officer of ours, who lived long in
India, got up always at three in the morning, after we returned home,
and walked about the streets of Portsmouth, wondering what had become of
everybody."
"I shall try not to grumble about weather any more," said Laura. "We
seem no worse off than other people."
"Or rather we are a great deal better off! At Bermuda, where my regiment
stopped on the way to America, the inhabitants are so tormented with
high winds, that they build 'hurricane houses'--low, flat rooms, where
the families must retire when a storm comes on, as trees, houses,
people, and cattle, are all whirled about with such violence, that not a
life is safe on the island while it lasts."
"That reminds me," said Lady Harriet, "of a droll mistake made yesterday
by the African camel, when he landed at Leith. His keepers were leading
him along the high road to be made a show of in Edinburgh, at a time
when the wind was particularly high; and the poor animal encountering
such clouds of dust, thought this must be a simoon of the desert, and
threw himself flat down, burying his nose in the ground, according to
custom on those occasions. It was with great difficulty that he could at
last be induced to face the danger, and proceed."
"Quite a compliment to our dust," observed Laura. "But really in such a
hot day, the kangaroos and tigers might feel perfectly at home here.
Oh! how I should like to visit the GEOlogical Gardens in London!"
"Then suppose we set off immediately!" said Major Graham, pretending to
rise from his chair. "Your grandmama's donkey-carriage holds two."
"Ah! but you could carry the donkey-carriage more easily than it could
carry you!"
"Shall I try? Well, if we go, who is to pay the turnpikes, for I
remember the time, not a hundred years ago, when Harry and you both
thought that paying the gates was the only expense of travelling. You
asked me then how poor grandmama could afford so many shillings and
sixpences."
"We know all about every thing now though!" said Harry, nodding in a
very sagacious manner. "I can tell exactly how much time it takes going
by the public coach to London, and it sleeps only one night on the
road."
"Sleeps!" cried uncle David. "What! it puts on a night-cap, and goes to
bed?"
"Yes! and it dines and breakfasts too, Mr. uncle David, for I heard Mrs.
Crabtree say so."
"Never name anybody, unless you wish to see her immediately," said Major
Graham, hearing a well-known tap at the door. "As sure as you mention an
absent person, if he is supposed to be fifty miles off at the time, it
is rather odd, but he instantly appears!"
"Then there is somebody that I shall speak about very often."
"Who can this Mr. Somebody be?" asked uncle David, smiling. "A foolish
person that spoils you both I dare say, and gives you large slices of
bread and jelly like this. Hold them carefully! Now, good bye, and joy
be with you."
But it was with rather rueful faces that Harry and Laura left the room,
wishing they might have remained another hour to talk nonsense with
uncle David, and dreading to think what new scrapes and difficulties
they would get into in the nursery, which always seemed to them a place
of torture and imprisonment.
Major Graham used to say that Mrs. Crabtree should always have a
thermometer in her own room when she dressed, to tell her whether the
weather was hot or cold, for she seemed to feel no difference, and
scarcely ever made any change in her own attire, wearing always the same
pink gown and scarlet shawl, which made her look like a large red
flower-pot, while she was no more annoyed with the heat than a
flower-pot would have been. On this very oppressive morning she took as
much pains in suffocating Harry with a silk handkerchief round his neck,
as if it had been Christmas, and though Laura begged hard for leave to
go without one of her half-a-dozen wrappings, she might as well have
asked permission to go without her head, as Mrs. Crabtree seemed
perfectly deaf upon the subject.
"This day is so very cold and so very shivering," said Harry, slyly,
"that I suppose you will make Laura wear at least fifty shawls."
"Not above twenty," answered Mrs. Crabtree, dryly. "Give me no more of
your nonsense, Master Harry! This is no business of yours! I was in the
world long before you were born, and must know best; so hold your
tongue. None but fools and beggars need ever be cold."
At last Mrs. Crabtree had heaped as many clothes upon her two little
victims, as she was pleased to think necessary; so she sallied forth
with them, followed by Betty, and proceeded towards the country, taking
the sunny side of the road, and raising clouds of dust at every step,
till Harry and Laura felt as if they had been made of wax, and were
melting away.
"Mrs. Crabtree!" said Harry, "did you hear uncle David's funny story
yesterday? One hot morning a gentleman was watching an ant's nest, when
he observed, that every little insect, as it came out, plucked a small
leaf, to hold over its head, as a parasol! I wish we could find leaves
large enough for us."
"You must go to the Botanical Gardens, where one leaf of a palm-tree was
shown to grandmama, which measured fourteen feet long," observed Laura.
"How horrid these very warm countries must be, where the heat is all the
year round like this!"
"You may well say that," answered Mrs. Crabtree. "I would not go to them
East Indies--no! not if I were Governess-General,--to be running away
with a tiger at your back, and sleeping with real live serpents twisted
round the bed-post, and scorpions under your pillow! Catch me there! I'm
often quite sorry for Master Frank, to think that his ship is maybe
going that way! I'm told the very rats have such a smell in that
outlandish place, that if they touch the outside of a bottle with their
tails, it tastes of musk ever after; and when people are sitting
comfortably down, expecting to enjoy their dinner, a swarm of great ants
will come, and fall, an inch thick, on all the side-dishes. I've no
desire whatever to see foreign parts!"
"But I wish to see every country in the universe," said Harry; "and I
hope there will be a rail-road all round the world before I am grown up.
Only think, Mrs. Crabtree, what fun lion-hunting must be, and catching
dolphins, and riding on elephants."
The pedestrians had now arrived at the pretty village of Corstorphine,
when they were unexpectedly met by Peter Grey, who joined them without
waiting to ask leave. Here the hills are so beautifully wooded, and the
villas so charming, that Harry, Peter, and Laura stopped a moment, to
consider what house they would like best to live in. Near one side of
the road stood a large cart of hay, on the top of which were several
men, forking it in at the window of a high loft, which could only be
entered by a long ladder that leaned against the wall. It was a busy
joyous scene, and soon attracted the children's whole attention, who
were transfixed with delight, seeing how rapidly the people ran up and
down, with their pitchforks in their hands, and tilted the hay from the
cart into the loft, while they had many jokes and much laughter among
themselves. At last their whole business was finished, and the workmen
drove away for another supply, to the neighbouring fields, where they
had been raking and tossing it all morning, as merry as crickets.
"What happy people!" exclaimed Harry, looking wistfully after the party,
and wishing he might have scrambled into the cart beside them. "I would
be a haymaker for nothing, if anybody would employ me; would not you,
Peter?"
"It is very strange," said Master Grey, "why little ladies and gentlemen
seem always obliged to endure a perfectly useless walk every day, as you
and Laura are doing now. You never saw animals set out to take a stroll
for the good of their healths! How odd it would be to see a couple of
dogs set off for a country walk!"
"Miss Laura!" said Mrs. Crabtree, "Master Harry may rest here for a
minute or two with Master Peter, and let them count their fingers, while
you come with Betty and me to visit a sick old aunt of mine who lives
round the corner; but be sure, boys, you do not presume to wander about,
or I shall punish you most severely. We are coming back in two minutes."
Mrs. Crabtree had scarcely disappeared into a small shabby-looking
cottage, before Peter turned eagerly to Harry, with a face of great joy
and importance, exclaiming, "Only see how very lucky this is! The
haymakers have left their long ladder, standing on purpose for us! The
window of that loft is wide open, and I must climb up immediately to
peep in, because never, in all my life, did I see the inside of a
hay-loft before!"
"Nor I!" added Harry. "Uncle David says, that all round the floor there
are deep holes, called mangers, down which food is thrown for the
horses, so that they can thrust their heads in, to take a bite, whenever
they choose."
"How I should hate to have my dinner hung up always before my nose in
that way! Suppose the kitchen were placed above your nursery, and that
Mrs. Marmalade showered down tarts and puddings, which were to remain
there till you ate them, you would hate the sight of such things at
last. But now, Harry, for the hay-loft."
Peter scrambled so rapidly up the ladder, that he soon reached the top,
and instantly vanished in at the window, calling eagerly for Harry to
follow. "You never saw such a nice, clean, funny place as this, in all
your life!--make haste!--come faster!--never mind crushing your hat or
tearing your jacket,--I'll put it all to rights. Ah! there!--that's the
thing!--walk up, gentlemen! walk up!--the grand show!--sixpence each,
and children half-price!"
All this time, Harry was slowly, and with great difficulty, picking his
steps up the ladder, but a most troublesome business it was! First, his
foot became entangled in a rope,--then his hat got squeezed so out of
shape, it looked perfectly tipsy,--next, one of his shoes nearly came
off,--and afterwards he dropped his gloves; but at last he stumbled up
in safety, and stood beside Peter in the loft, both laughing with
delight at their own enterprize.
The quantity of hay piled up on all sides, astonished them greatly,
while the nice, wide floor between, seemed larger than any drawing-room,
and was certainly made on purpose for a romp. Harry rolled up a large
ball of hay to throw at Peter, while he, in return, aimed at him, so
they ran after each other, round and round the loft, raising such a
riot, that the very "rafters dirled."
The hay now flew about in clouds, while they jumped over it, or crept
under it, throwing handfuls about in every direction, and observing that
this was the best play-room they had ever been in.
"How lucky that we came here!" cried Peter. "I should like to stay an
hour at least!"
"Oh! two hours,--or three,--or all day," added Harry. "But what shall we
do about Mrs. Crabtree? She has not gone to settle for life with that
old sick aunt, so I am afraid we must really be hurrying back, in case
she may find out our expedition, and that, you know, Peter, would be
dreadful!"
"Only fancy, Harry, if she sees you and me clinging to the ladder, about
half way down! what a way she would be in!"
"We had better make haste," said Harry, looking around. "What would
grandmama say!--I wish we had never come up!"
At this moment, Harry was still more brought to his senses, by hearing
Mrs. Crabtree's voice, exclaiming, in loud angry accents, "Where in all
the world can those troublesome boys be gone! I must tether them to a
tree the next time they are left together! Why! sure! they would not
venture up that long ladder in the hay-loft! If they have, they had
better never come down again, for I shall shew who is master here."
"Peter Grey would run up a ladder to the stars, if he could find one,"
replied Betty. "Here are Master Harry's gloves lying at the bottom of
it. They can be gone nowhere else, for I have searched every other
place. We must send the town-crier with his bell after them, if they are
not found up there!"
Mrs. Crabtree now seemed fearfully angry, while Laura began to tremble
with fright for Harry, who was listening overhead, and did not know very
well what to do, but foolishly thought it best to put off the evil hour
of being punished as long as possible; so he and Peter silently crept in
below a great quantity of hay, and hid themselves so cunningly, that
even a thief-catcher could scarcely have discovered their den. In this
dark corner, Harry had time to reflect and to feel more and more alarmed
and sorry for his misconduct, so he said, in a very distressed voice,
"Oh, Peter! what a pity it is ever to be naughty, for we are always
found out, and always so much happier when we are good!"
"I wonder how Mrs. Crabtree will get up the long ladder?" whispered
Peter, laughing. "I would give my little finger, and one of my ears, to
see her and Betty scrambling along!"
Harry had to pinch Peter's arm almost black and blue before he would be
quiet; and by the time he stopped talking, Mrs. Crabtree and Betty were
both standing in the hay-loft, exceedingly out of breath with climbing
so unusually high, while Mrs. Crabtree very nearly fell, having stumbled
over a step at the entrance.
"Why, sure! there's nobody here!" exclaimed she, in a disappointed tone.
"And what a disorderly place this is! I thought a hay-loft was always
kept in such nice order, with the floor all swept! but here is a fine
mess! Those two great lumps of hay in the corner look as if they were
meant for people to sleep upon!"
Harry gave himself up for lost when Mrs. Crabtree noticed the place
where he and Peter had buried themselves alive; but to his great relief,
no suspicion seemed to have been excited, and neither of the two
searchers were anxious to venture beyond the door, after having so
nearly tripped upon the threshold.
"They must have been stolen by a gipsey, or perhaps fallen into a well,"
said Betty, who rather liked the bustle of an accident. "I always
thought Master Peter would break his neck, or something of that kind.
Poor thing! how distressed his papa will be!"
"Hold your tongue," interrupted Mrs. Crabtree, angrily. "I wish people
would either speak sense, or not speak at all! Did you hear a noise
among the hay?"
"Rats, I dare say! or perhaps a dog!" answered Betty, turning hastily
round, and hurrying down the ladder faster than she had come up. "I
certainly thought something moved in yon far corner."
"Where can that little shrimp of a boy be hid?" added Mrs. Crabtree,
following. "He must have obedience knocked like a nail into his head,
with a few good severe blows. I shall beat him to powder when once we
catch him."
"You may depend upon it," persisted Betty, "that some gipsey has got the
boys for the sake of their clothes. It will be a great pity, because
Master Harry had on his best blue jacket and trowsers."
No sooner was the loft cleared of these unwelcome visitors, than Harry
and Peter began to recover from their panic, and jumped out of the hay,
shaking themselves free from it, and skipping about in greater glee than
ever.
While they played about, as they had done before, and tumbled as if they
had been tumblers at Ducrow's, poor Harry got into such spirits, that he
completely forgot about the deep holes called mangers, for containing
the horse's food, till all at once, when Peter was running after him, he
fell, with a loud crash, headlong into one of them! Oh! what a scream he
gave!--it echoed through the stable, terrifying a whole team of horses
that were feeding there, more particularly the one into whose manger he
had fallen. The horse gave a tremendous start when Harry plunged down
close to his nose, and not being able to run away, he put back his ears,
opened his mouth, and kicked and struggled in the most frightful manner,
while Harry, who could not make his escape any more than the horse,
shouted louder and louder for help.
Peter did all he could to assist Harry in this extraordinary
predicament, but finding it impossible to be of any use, he forgot their
terror of Mrs. Crabtree in his fears about Harry, and rushed to the
window, calling back their two pursuers, who were walking away at a
great distance. He screamed and hollooed, and waved his handkerchief,
without ceasing, till at last Mrs. Crabtree heard him, and turned round,
but never was anybody more astonished then she was, on seeing him there,
so she scolded, stormed, and raged, up to the very foot of the ladder.
"Now, you are the besiegers, and I am the garrison!" cried Peter, when
he saw Mrs. Crabtree panting and toiling in her ascent. "We must make a
treaty of peace together, for I could tumble you over in a minute, by
merely pushing this end a very little more to one side!"
"Do not touch it, Master Peter!" cried Mrs. Crabtree, almost afraid he
was in earnest. "There is a good boy,--be quiet!"
"A good boy!!" whispered Peter to himself. "What a fright Mrs. Crabtree
must be in, before she said that!"
The next moment Mrs. Crabtree snatched Harry out of the manger, and
shook him with rage. She then scolded and beat him, till he was
perfectly stupified with fright and misery, after which the whole party
were allowed to proceed towards home, while Harry stumbled along the
road, and hung down his head, wishing, fifty times over, that he and
Peter Grey had never gone up
THE LONG LADDER.