UNDER THE LABURNUM-TREE.
Within a few yards of the schoolroom window, but just out of sight,
stood a large laburnum-tree. Behind it was a very substantial
bay-bush. The two were planted at a corner of the house, with the
intention probably of cutting off a view of the kitchen windows from
the front. But the children had elevated them into a far higher
position than that of a mere screen. The laburnum-tree represented
their parliament-house. In it, or under it, as the case might be, they
played most of their games, told most of their stories, originated most
of their schemes.
It was to this refuge that John fled when threatened with lessons. It
was so conveniently near the schoolroom, that he could easily hear
through the open window when lessons were over; for since he had gone
out Miss Thompson had not punished the girls by making them sit behind
a closed window and drawn blind. Besides, Madge and Betty were sure to
join him under the laburnum-tree directly they were released. In the
meantime John enjoyed the unwonted luxury of a choice of seats.
There was only one drawback to the laburnum. It was really such a nice
tree that one hardly likes to mention this one fault, but if the
children could have suggested any sort of improvement, it would have
been a little more sitting accommodation in the boughs. Try as they
would they could never, all three, get up in it at once. And John was
usually the one left out. This was the way it happened. Madge, being
two years older than the twins, and much larger, naturally always
seized the highest and most commodious place. Then Betty, lightly
observing, "Ladies before gentlemen," would creep into a narrow little
fork between two branches at her sister's feet. And all that remained
for John was a yard of slippery polished stem, on which nothing but a
fly could have sat.
John grumbled--it was one of the things he did best, according to his
sisters. "Practice makes perfect," Betty used to say, alluding to this
habit of his. She was fond of proverbs, and introduced them into her
conversation with more aptness than consideration for the feelings of
others. But really about this matter of seats it did seem a little
hard on John to have always to crouch in the bay-bush, while his
sisters looked down on him from their lofty thrones,--even Betty's
boots on a level with his head. Of course, they daily pointed out to
him that the crushed bay leaves gave out a delicious smell. This was
quite true, but it in no way removed the original grievance. One may
have too much even of bay leaves.
However, this morning for about half an hour John had undisturbed
possession of the laburnum-tree. He began by trying Madge's seat, but
his legs being several inches shorter than hers dangled most
uncomfortably, instead of reaching the bough below. In order to steady
himself he had to hold on with one hand, which was terribly
humiliating. Madge, who could sit there in the most unconcerned
manner, plaiting rushes or carving a stick, would be sure to laugh at
him if she came out and noticed his difficulty. He hastily slipped
down into Betty's seat.
Now it so happened that the twins were not at all alike in appearance.
John was a fine handsome boy, Betty rather a thin, under-sized girl;
consequently the fork between the laburnum branches into which she
fitted exactly would not admit her brother at all. Except for the
glory of the thing, it was far safer and more comfortable down among
the bay leaves. John was so seldom out in the garden without his
sisters that he had never before had a quiet opportunity for making
this discovery. He was still thinking it over with puzzled
astonishment, when there was a loud sound of slamming doors, and Betty
ran out of the house, dangling her straw hat from her hand by a
worn-out bit of elastic.
"Madge kept in?" inquired John anxiously.
"Oh no! It's her turn to put away the books and desks, that's all."
This was a relief, for though the twins were supposed to be
romantically devoted to each other, they were both in reality rather
dependent upon Madge, whose superior size, age, and experience made her
the undisputed leader in all their games. John and Betty waited
impatiently, listening to the series of bangs which accompanied their
sister's rather abrupt restoration of order in the schoolroom. At last
there were three crashes louder than all the former sounds.
"Hurrah! There go the desks!" shouted John. "That's the last thing
always. She'll be here in a minute!"
In point of fact Madge joined them almost immediately. "I've thought
of something," she said, directly she came within shouting distance.
There was some excitement at this announcement, for when Madge solemnly
observed that she had thought of something, it always meant that an
unusually interesting plan was about to be unfolded. They all climbed
into their customary seats to await further developments. As Betty was
nearest the laburnum-tree she scrambled up first, so that Madge had
presently to crawl right over her, even planting a pair of very
substantial and dusty boots in her younger sister's lap; but this was
by no means a sufficiently uncommon event to call for any remonstrance.
As for John, he squatted down among the bay leaves much more
contentedly than usual. He had just found out that those lofty seats
up among the golden-chains, as the children called the laburnum
blossom, were not half as comfortable as they looked.
"This is what I have been thinking," began Madge, when she had settled
herself, not kicking Betty's head more than twice in the process. "We
want some hiding-place where no one can find us."
"Yes! yes!" shouted the twins.
"Some place in a tree," continued Madge.
The applause became louder than ever. Climbing trees was the favourite
amusement of all the children, and no game found favour for long which
did not include something of the kind.
"A tree like this, will it be?" inquired Betty.
"Of course not," replied Madge. She had her own idea, and could not
help feeling rather irritated with the younger ones for not entering
into it without any explanations. "This is hardly like a real tree,"
she continued; "more like a garden-seat, you know. If we fell out of
it, I don't believe we should be hurt a bit."
This statement was felt by the assembled company to be quite true,
though perhaps a little ungrateful, seeing how very much use they made
of the laburnum.
"Now, I should like a tree which would be a real fortress," continued
Madge. "A regular place of refuge--"
"What is a refuge?" interrupted John.
"Why, a place of safety, of course! Where one can hide from the enemy
and--"
"What enemy?" again interrupted John.
"Oh, don't be so tiresome!" broke in Betty, who always understood
things a little quicker than her brother--or if not, pretended she did.
"Can't you fancy an enemy? Men in armour, or lions, or Nurse when she
wants us to be put to bed."
John did not answer, being a little sulky. Of course he could imagine
enemies just as well as his sisters; worse ones perhaps, with longer
spears and sharper teeth! And he did not like being considered silly.
"What I think," continued Madge, who was accustomed to talk through
interruptions, so that she hardly noticed them; "what I think is that
we ought to make a kind of house up in a big tree, so high that no
grown-up people can possibly climb to it, and if we tumbled out we
should break our legs."
"I am afraid none of the garden trees will do," said Betty
thoughtfully, as she pondered over the required qualifications.
"Did I say it was to be in the garden?" snapped out Madge. "It will be
in the fields--the farthest part of the fields. And," she added,
leaning forward and whispering mysteriously, "I know the tree."
"Oh, which is it? Where is it?" shouted the twins. John's sulks at
once gave place to his curiosity.
"It's the beech-tree by the wall at the end of the Pig's Field,"
announced Madge. "I have examined it, and it will do exactly."
"You do have such good plans!" murmured Betty admiringly. Indeed, an
elder sister who can work out a project of this sort in her head
without saying a word to anyone, is a member of the family of whom one
may feel justly proud.
"But I hope there's a place for me in this grand tree of yours,"
observed John, in the accent of complaint that was rather habitual to
him. "Because, if I've got to sit on the ground as I do here, and the
enemy comes, it won't be very nice for me; though of course you two
will be all right, so you won't care!" and he crushed the bay leaves
viciously under his feet until the air became quite aromatic.
"If you would only listen to me instead of grumbling you would hear my
whole plan," observed Madge, very reasonably. "We shall not sit on
branches as we have always done before, we will build a house by
putting sticks for a floor. A sort of huge nest, with lots of room for
us all. Of course, if we build it ourselves, we can make it just as
large or as small as we like."
The audience was positively struck dumb by the magnificent ingenuity of
this new idea. The clanging sound of a large bell at last broke the
silence.
"Oh, dear! There is dinner in five minutes!" sighed Betty, wriggling
out of her narrow seat. "And I upset the ink-bottle over my hands, so
that they will take longer to wash than usual, and there will be no
time to hear the rest of your plan now, because I promised to bring
Miss Thompson in a bunch of golden-chains." And she began pulling down
the lowest boughs of the laburnum by swinging upon them with all her
weight.
"All right!" said Madge good-naturedly; "I'll help." Climbing down to
the ground, she began to tear large sprays of golden blossom off the
boughs lowered by Betty's weight. "There, I should think that's
enough!" she said, when her two hands were full to overflowing. "Now
we had better run in, or we shall be late and lose our punctuality
marks! But first I will tell you both one more thing. I have even
thought of a name for this house in the tree. The Eagle's Nest. What
do you say to that?" But the twins' admiration and enthusiasm for
their elder sister could not find a vent in mere words.