"It must be six o'clock!" cried Florence Thornhill, starting up in bed;
"and it is a lovely morning. Emily, it _must_ be six o'clock."
"Has Jane called us?" said Emily, almost in her sleep.
"No: but--hush! One, two, three, four. Oh! the clock only struck four;"
and Florence fell fast asleep in an instant.
In another hour she jumped up again. "It must be"--the clock began to
strike as she spoke, and she counted, "one, two, three, four,
five,--only five yet," and once more fell asleep.
All was quiet till, another hour having past, Jane came in saying, "It
is just going to strike six, young ladies."
Florence was up in an instant, and Emily soon after her. They had been
invited by their friends, Mr. and Mrs. Grove, who lived on the borders
of Epping Forest, to join a young party who were to spend the whole day
in the Forest, and to carry provisions with them and dine there. To
Florence and Emily, who lived in London, this was a delightful prospect.
They had thought of nothing else for a week. They were quickly dressed,
ran down to breakfast, and before it was over, the carriage that was to
take them to the railway was at the door. Their papa and mama wished
them a very happy day, and they soon drove off, accompanied by Jane to
take care of them; a basket containing a large cake and a cold pie,
their mama's contribution to the feast, being put in and given to Jane's
charge.
Fast as they drove, it was not fast enough to satisfy their impatience.
Florence especially was "quite certain" they should be too late, and
stretched out her head to look at every clock they passed. They were,
however, in excellent time, and in a few minutes they were seated in the
train. Off they set; and even to them it seemed wonderfully soon when
they stopped at the station, and heard a voice at the window ask, "Are
the Miss Thornhills here?"
It was Mrs. Grove's coachman; and there was Ernest, her youngest little
boy, waiting in the open carriage. They were soon seated by his side,
Jane by the coachman, and away they drove again.
It was a lovely morning in August. The sky was bright blue, with a few
heavy white clouds sailing over it; but Jacob the coachman, who was
anxiously questioned, and who looked very grave and wise, declared there
would be no rain. The air felt deliciously fresh to the two little
London girls. They thought the cottages looked very clean and pretty;
then the gardens were gay with dahlias and hollyhocks, the orchards full
of red-cheeked apples, and a pleasant smell of wood smoke every now and
then in the air. They had twenty questions to ask of Ernest, and at
every house they came to, they said, "Is this your house now?"
At last they stopped at a white gate. It was thrown open directly by
Fred, Ernest's elder brother, who had been watching for them; and at the
sound of the wheels, his two sisters, Annie and Jessy, came running out
to receive them, followed by two little boys, whose names were Alfred
and Johnny, who had come to join the party; and behind all came bounding
and barking, Dash the dog.
When they stopped at the door they thought this was the prettiest house
of any they had seen yet. The porch was covered with clematis and
jasmine, and the borders and beds full of bright flowers. Out of the
porch came Mr. and Mrs. Grove, and kissed and welcomed them, and told
them that they were all ready to start for the Forest.
So much the better. They longed to be there. The contents of the basket
were quickly transferred to a certain large pannier that stood in the
lobby; Jane was recommended to the care of the maids, who promised to
take her a nice walk; and in a little while the whole happy party was on
the road to the Forest, Mr. Grove leading the way, because it was
declared that he knew the prettiest paths. He took them up a wooded bank
among straggling trees.
"Emily and Florence must shut their eyes now," cried Annie; "I will lead
them."
"No, you take Emily and I will lead Florence," said Ernest.
Both shut their eyes and followed to the top of the bank.
"Now you may look." They opened their eyes. Below them lay the fine old
Forest. It looked like a whole ocean of green tops, stretching miles and
miles to the right and left, filling all the valley before them, and
clothing the ridge of the opposite hill till they were lost against the
sky. A narrow winding path at their feet dived down into this green
world, and down it in a moment ran all with joyous shouts. In half a
minute they could see nothing on every side of them but trees.
The trees were of the strangest shapes; very short, with bushy heads,
and stems that leaned all manner of ways and were knotted and mossy, and
sometimes they looked like curious wood creatures dancing. They were so
close together that their branches met over head, and formed a thick
roof of leaves. Long wreaths of ivy and honeysuckle twined about them,
and great ferns grew among them, often taller than the trees themselves;
because they were allowed to grow as they liked, but the trees were
lopped every few years to supply wood to all the people that lived near.
Round about these twisted stems, and among these tangled undergrowths,
the children ran and danced, sometimes stopping to gather a pretty
blue-bell, or some bright berries, or to peep into a deserted bird's
nest, or look at some insect, Mr. Grove only warning them to keep near
the path lest they should be lost.
"O come into this lovely arbour," cried Emily, stopping before a group
of trees, where the branches had met over head, and then drooped
downwards, leaving a hollow in the middle. As she stooped to look in, a
rabbit, which had been asleep there, rushed out, and scudded away, with
Dash after it, barking and yelping. But Dash soon came back, hanging out
his tongue, and looking rather foolish, for the rabbit had found his
hole near, and was safe in it in a minute.
The children all crept into Emily's arbour, and nestled within it very
comfortably.
"Now tell us a story, Annie," said little Ernest.
"O yes," said Florence; "something about a fairy that lived in the
trees, or--"
Just then something rustled the branches over head, and a black cow,
with a white face and large horns, looked down upon them.
"Oh! oh!" exclaimed Florence, and began to make her way out at the
opposite side of the thicket.
"It's only a cow. It will not hurt you," cried Fred and Annie at once.
But she was not used to be so near a cow, and made her way out, coming
bounce against a large pig that was lying under a hazel tree on its
side.
"Ouf! Ouf! grunted the pig, and, scrambling up, he began to move off,
but presently turned round, and looked at her as if it had occurred to
him, on reflection, that she had no right to disturb him.
"Come and drive away this great pig, Freddy," she cried.
That was soon done. Away galloped the pig, crushing the thick branches
under his hoofs.
They had all crept out after Florence, and the path on that side looked
so pretty that Annie called to her papa to ask him to lead them down it.
It went winding among beech trees, which, when they were lopped, had
thrown out long feathery branches from their roots and stems, making a
beautiful green wall on each side, and meeting in an arch above. As they
walked along it, they saw many and many another, quite as beautiful,
branching off in all directions, like endless shrubberies, and were
often tempted to run down them, but for the fear of losing themselves.
"What is that tinkling bell I hear every now and then?" asked Emily.
"That is a bell round a cow's neck," answered Mrs. Grove. "The cow that
startled Florence so much had probably twenty companions feeding near
us, and one or two always have bells to guide their owners where to find
them at milking time."
"And were there a number of pigs too?" asked Florence.
"There are great numbers in the Forest. Nearly all the cottagers keep
them, and let them roam about in search of roots and nuts; but they are
unsocial creatures, and seldom feed together. In the evenings you may
see them, one by one, issuing from the several paths out of the trees,
and each making his way to his own home. There they stand grunting and
squeaking at the door of their styes till some one lets them in."
"How funny they must look!" said Florence laughing.
"But how sensible of them!" said Emily. "I had no idea pigs were so
clever. I am sure I should not know the way out of the Forest."
The path had now led them to the borders of a clear little stream,
flowing in the bottom of the valley, among stones and stumps covered
with bright green moss. They crossed it and came to an open grassy
space, where twenty or thirty rough, shaggy-looking horses were feeding;
these only lifted their heads for a minute, to look at the visitors, and
then went on eating.
Now they went along a green path among bushes, where the bright sun
beamed down upon them.
"O look! what quantities of blackberries!" cried Alfred.
All were scattered among the brambles in a moment, engaging in the
delights of blackberry gathering. The fruit hung ripe and black in large
bunches; fingers and lips were soon dyed with the juice, and not a few
stains and holes were made in frocks. Then Annie's basket was filled,
that they might take some home for Jane.
Mr. Grove now called them all together; for it was time to go on. All
were soon collected, except Jessie and Emily. They were called, but no
answer came, and no one could see them anywhere.
"I will climb a tree and look out," said Fred. "I shall be sure to see
them." Accordingly he climbed the highest he could find, and looked all
round.
"I see them," he cried. "There they go, running exactly the wrong way.
Holloa! Jessie! Emily! Stop!" And he took out his handkerchief and waved
it.
All the children stood looking up anxiously. "Do they see you?" asked
Mr. Grove.
"They have stopped and are looking about. They see me now. Here they
come," said Fred, beginning to slide down; and as he reached the ground
they came running up quite out of breath, and rather frightened at the
idea that they might have lost themselves.
They continued to walk for nearly half an hour near the stream, among
scattered trees, stopping every now and then to gather long wreaths of
briony, or honeysuckle, or ivy, or to watch the rabbits that started out
of the bushes, or to listen to a wood-pigeon, or stock-dove at a
distance, the only sounds that reached them in this silent place. At
last they came to a grove of fine large trees, stretching as far as
they could see in all directions. It looked almost dark in there, so
great was the contrast with the sunny place in which they stood. The
little stream took its course under the trees, which hung arching over
it; and by the path at its side they went in under the tall trees. As
they entered they ceased to laugh and talk, and felt inclined to
whisper. It was a beautiful place. The ground was brown with the leaves
of last autumn; the branches met overhead at a great height, and
everywhere a green light was spread.
Presently they found a nook where the stream had been checked in its
course by a fallen tree, and had collected into a round pool. On the
bridge made by this tree all the children had soon seated themselves,
watching the water foaming over one part where it had made a channel of
itself, and glancing in the straggling sunbeams that came flickering
through the leaves.
"Look at that squirrel peeping at us out of its nest," whispered Johnny.
Looking up, they saw, after a time, the round bright eye of a squirrel,
high up in the tree over their heads, and soon they spied another at a
little distance, fussing about among the leaves on the ground, finding
nuts for his little ones. Perhaps they made some noise, for he took
fright and climbed up a tall stem as quick as lightning, and then leaped
to a tree opposite, through the air, where they could see him quite
well, with his bushy brown tail curled above his head.
"Hush!" said Mr. Grove, at this moment. "Look there!"
They turned where he pointed, and saw come silently tripping along, one
behind another, six or seven of the Forest deer. The children remained
so still that the timid creatures never saw or heard them, but passed on
among the trees out of sight.
A rustling among the leaves was now heard, as if some one was coming.
Who should it be but Jacob the coachman, leading the horse that had
brought the carriage from the station, but who now bore two large
panniers on his back, instead of drawing a carriage. The horse's name
was Sir Toby.
"Here comes Jacob with Sir Toby. Is this where we are to dine papa? O
what a lovely place to dine in!" exclaimed several voices.
All collected round the panniers directly, and now mama took the
direction of affairs.
"Fix on the spot where we shall lay the cloth," said she.
They scattered about to choose a place. One fixed here, another there;
at last all agreed that the most beautiful had been found. It was a
round space covered with soft grass, where the trees and bushes left
just a sufficient opening. The stream running behind the bushes, but
close by, would supply them with delicious water. Here, therefore, they
fixed it should be.
The white tablecloth was spread smoothly, and looked very pretty with
its green border of grass.
"Now Dash, take care of my shawl," said Annie.
"And of my bonnet," said Emily. Dash accordingly took his place beside
the bonnet and shawl.
Jacob unpacked the mugs, and a tumbler, some spoons, knives, and forks,
the salt and pepper. Annie, assisted by Alfred and Johnny, took all
these things, put them down, and stationed herself at one end to direct
the proceedings. A pile of plates came next. Emily placed these opposite
to Annie; then a large jar of milk, which Jessie put by them.
"Who will carry this pie?" said Mrs. Grove.
"I will,--let _me_," said little Ernest; so it was trusted to him, and
he brought it quite safely.
A round basket, piled with fruit, came next. There were grapes, peaches,
apples, pears, and plums. Florence begged to carry the fruit, and it
was put on her head, and she followed Ernest. Behind her came Fred with
the cake.
While these were laid on the tablecloth, other things were coming out of
the panniers,--cold fowls and ham, tarts and bread. When all was put
down, it looked a splendid feast.
They took their places. A tree stump was found for papa and mama, but
the children chose to sit on the grass. Never was there a merrier party.
Even Jacob, grave as he was, could not help smiling at the shouts of
laughter that reached him as he sat on a large stone, eating his
plateful of cold pie, and letting Sir Toby feast on the short grass. The
children carved, handed the plates, and managed everything, Mr. and Mrs.
Grove were not allowed to take any trouble, but were waited on by all.
There was a great deal to do, running to the stream for water, handing
things round, changing the plates, and then clearing away, and giving
the empty dishes to Jacob's charge to be packed. Dash was not forgotten,
and seemed to enjoy himself very much. Afterwards they sat still for
some time, and told stories, asked riddles, and sung songs.
"Now, Annie," said Mrs. Grove, rising as the last song ended, "your papa
and I must go home, but we will leave you here to play for an hour or
two. Jacob can remain, and will see you safely home."
They were delighted with this permission, and lost no time in beginning
some games. They had "Follow my leader," "Hunt the hare," and then "Hide
and seek." It was a capital place for this; there were hollow trees,
thick bushes, and deep holes, and one after another hid and was found
after a great deal of fun. At last it was Florence's turn. She seemed to
have fixed on a very good place, for no one could find her. In vain they
searched in every hole and stump, looked up trees where it was
impossible she could have climbed, and into great bramble bushes, where
she could not have crept without being scratched to pieces. Nearly two
hours had passed since they began their games, and Jacob declared it was
time to go home.
"Florence!" cried Emily, "where are you? come out: we ought to go home."
No answer.
"Florence! we give it up; we cannot find you; where are you, Florence?"
was shouted by every one.
Still no answer.
"It's not play, Flory! we are frightened," cried Emily.
"Do speak." All was still silent.
"Come and help us to look, Jacob," said Annie; and Jacob came with his
grave face, and began to beat the bushes, and peer about everywhere.
"Suppose we should never find her again!" said poor Emily, almost
crying. "Dear Flory, do speak!" And she sat down on the grass with a
feeling of fear of she did not know what.
"It _must_ be six o'clock, and it's a lovely morning," exclaimed a voice
at her feet, and up started Florence from under a heap of dry leaves,
where she had hidden, and felt so comfortable that she had fallen
asleep.
"Here she is! Florence is found!" cried Emily, in joy; and from all
quarters the seekers came running to the spot, while Florence, hardly
knowing where she was, stared round her in surprise.
Fred came up first: "Where had--?" he cried; but no more was heard, for
he sunk into the ground and disappeared.
Johnny came next, running towards them; "So you are--" he began, and
also sunk into the ground disappeared.
Alfred was next. "Ah! Florence! I am--" he sunk, and disappeared.
Florence started up, but when she had got on her knees she began
slipping and sinking, and in an instant had vanished.
"What is it?--where are--?" cried Emily rushing forward, and sunk like
the others.
"Bless me!" cried Jacob. "Stop a moment! Wait a bit, Miss Jessie; hold
fast by that stump, Miss Annie!"
But both were running too fast to stop themselves, and when they set
their foot on the spot where all the rest had vanished, down they went
and disappeared.
Little Ernest had taken longer to come up than the rest, for he had been
dreadfully frightened about Florence, and had gone to a great distance
to seek her, and had seen all this with the greatest wonder. He was
running fast towards the place, when Florence's head appeared above
ground.
"Dear Florence!" he cried, holding out both his hands, and catching hold
of her's, which now came above ground also, "where are you? Have you all
tumbled into one of those ponds covered with leaves, papa told us about?
Shall you all be drowned?"
He pulled her with all his might as he spoke, and she came safely up on
firm ground beside him, laughing heartily.
"Drowned!" cried Fred, whose face now appeared; "I was never so
comfortable in my life. It's like the softest bed, only a great deal
nicer."
"I do not wonder Florence went to sleep," said Alfred, whose head next
came in sight. "We are in a pit full of nice dry leaves."
Jacob had, by this time, cut a long stick, which he held out to them,
and by its help he got them out, after a great deal of laughing, with
their hair stuck over with brown leaves.
"Yes, Jacob, we really will make haste and go home," said Annie, in
answer to his representation that they should be late. "But where's
Dash?"
"Dash! Dash!" cried Fred.
Dash barked angrily in answer, from a distance, but did not come.
"Where's my bonnet?" said Emily.
"And my shawl?" said Annie. Dash barked angrily again. "O, now I
remember. Poor Dash! He is watching them all this time!" They ran back
to the place where they had dined, and there they found him at his post,
the bonnet and shawl on one side, and the basket of blackberries on the
other. He was praised and patted till he had quite forgotten his anger,
and was up and ready for anything again.
"Now then, where are the panniers and Sir Toby?" said Annie.
"Here are the panniers all ready packed, Miss Annie," answered Jacob;
"but, bless me! where's Sir Toby?"
They looked all round, and presently discovered Sir Toby trotting very
contentedly along the path homewards. He had gone nearly out of sight
already.
"Bless me!" exclaimed poor Jacob again, "what shall I do? I cannot leave
you young ladies and gentlemen alone. Wo there! Wo there! The horse will
not stop. He may come to mischief."
"Run after him, Jacob," cried Fred. "We will stay by the panniers."
Jacob ran on. They thought he would succeed at first, for Sir Toby
stopped to eat, but no sooner did he hear Jacob behind him, than he
pricked up his ears and trotted on again. It was impossible to help
laughing, troublesome as it was. How to get home all the heavy things
they could not think. Fred ran on a little way to see if he could do
anything to help. Turning the corner of a thicket, he came against a
donkey feeding, and saw behind the trees a little cottage, with a great
stack of wood by it much higher than itself. An old woman stood at the
door.
"Is that your horse yonder, running away, Master?" said she; and she
looked so good-natured, that he told her all the case.
"If our donkey will do to carry the panniers he shall go with you," said
she, "and my son can lead him and bring him back."
Fred thanked her heartily, and then made signs to Jacob to go on again.
Jacob had begun to run back, despairing of stopping Sir Toby, and
distracted between his duty to the young ladies and gentlemen, and the
horse.
"Go after your horse!" shouted the old woman, pointing energetically
along the path. Seeing he still doubted, she led the donkey up a steep
bank and pushed her son to his head. Jacob understood; he saw that this
stout country lad and this donkey would supply the place of himself and
Sir Toby, and with a heart eased of half its load of care, he started
off again in pursuit.
The donkey was soon loaded, not forgetting the blackberries, and the
whole party moved homewards after many thanks to the kind old woman, who
promised to come up to tea and return with her son. Sir Toby was safe in
his stable when they arrived. He had gone straight to the door and
waited there for Jacob.
Tea was ready in the pretty drawing-room; and when they were going to
take their places round the table, with clean hands and faces, hair
brushed smooth, and holes mended up as well as they could be in a hurry,
the door opened and in came Mr. and Mrs. Thornhill. Here was joy for
Emily and Florence. It was to meet them Mr. Grove had left the Forest;
and when it was announced that, instead of going away next morning, they
were all to remain together for a week, the pleasure was complete. The
adventures of the day were talked over, and seemed to give as much
enjoyment, now they were remembered, as when they were actually
happening; and, better than all, they could look forward to many more
such happy days, for they had a whole week before them. Emily and
Florence felt how delightful it would be to take their papa and mama to
the beautiful places, and shew them where they saw the cows, and pigs,
and the other creatures, and where they picked blackberries, and where
they dined, and, above all, the pit of dry leaves; and Mr. Grove
declared that he could lead them to many other places, and through many
more paths, quite as beautiful as those they had already seen in the old
Forest.
[Illustration: GRANDPAPA'S HAY-FIELD.]