"'Tis merry, 'tis merry, in Fairyland,
When fairy birds are singing,
When the court doth ride by their monarch's side,
With bit and bridle ringing.
And gaily shines the Fairyland."
Captain Lyle got no further just then. Hurried steps were heard in the
hall, the door was thrown unceremoniously open, and in rushed old Peter
the butler, pale as death, and wringing his shining hands.
"Augh!" he gasped, clutching at the wall, "they've done it noo! They've
done it noo! Oh that I should hae lived to see this day o' wreck and
ruin to the old hoose o' Lyle. Ochone! ochone! o-chrie!"
"In the name of goodness, Peter, are you crazy, or is the house on fire?
Speak, man!" cried Captain Lyle.
"Hoose on fire? Na, na; it's waur and waur than that. But still
there's hope, sir. I have him in a tub, and though he is lying on his
side he's gasping yet. Hallo! there they come."
In rushed Effie and Leonard, bright-eyed and rosy with joy and
excitement.
Effie ran to her father's arms.
Leonard ran to his mother.
"We've caught Joe!" they both cried at once.
"I hooked him," cried Effie.
"I hauled him up," cried Leonard.
"And we both hauled him out."
"Dool [Note 1] on the day for the hoose o' Glen Lyle," exclaimed Peter,
rolling his eyes.
"Come, father, come. Peter put him in a tub."
Captain Lyle followed Effie. There, sure enough, in the tub of water
lay Joe, the monarch of the loch. Peter pointed to the animal's tail.
"How strange!" said Captain Lyle, as well he might, for a huge gold ring
ran through the last vertebrae, and attached to this a plate, with the
letters L.L., and the date 17--plainly visible.
A few minutes afterwards Joe seemed to recover all of a sudden, and
began tearing round and round the tub, his huge jaws snapping and his
eyes glaring like a demon's.
Every one started back astonished, but old Peter's antics were a sight
to see.
He seized a big wooden lid and clapped it over the tub, and set himself
on top thereof. Then he addressed himself to the cook--
"Run, ye auld roodas," he roared; "run to the kitchen, and fetch the
biggest kettle-pot ye can lay yer claws on!"
The pot was duly fetched, and clapped upside down on top of the lid on
the tub.
Then Peter flung his cap to the roof of the hall, and shouted, "Saved,
saved! The auld hoose is saved yet."
Now after that Captain Lyle drew old Peter aside. What the old man
communicated to his young master the reader may learn in good time; but
certain it is, that in less than half an hour Joe found himself back
once more in his old quarters, not very much the worse for his singular
adventure, and that within a week a high wooden palisade was placed all
round the lake, with only one gate, and that padlocked. Leonard
wondered, and so did his gentle sister. They looked at each other in
silence at first, then Effie shook a serious little head, and said
solemnly,--
"We mustn't touch papa's pike any more."
"No," replied Leonard, thoughtfully, "Joe _is_ papa's pike, and he
mustn't be touched."
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Leonard and Effie were the only children of their parents, who loved
them very much indeed. Captain Lyle was proud of his boy, and, I fear,
made almost too much of a pet of his girl Effie. He indulged them both
to their hearts' content, when they had done their duty for the day--
that is, when they had both returned from the village school, for in
those good old days in Scotland the upper classes were not above sending
their boys and girls to the parish schools; there were of course no
paupers went there, only the sons and daughters of farmers and
tradespeople--when duty was over, then, Captain Lyle encouraged his
children to play. Indeed, he seemed more like a big boy--a brother, for
instance--than a father. He was always planning out new measures of
enjoyment, and one of the best of these was what Leonard called _The
Miniature Menagerie_.
I do most sincerely believe that the planning and building of this
delightful little fairy palace saved the life of Captain Lyle. He had
been invalided home in the month of January 1810--about ten months
before the opening scene of our tale--and it was judged that a year and
a half at least must elapse before he would be again fit for service.
War-worn and weary though he was, having served nearly a dozen years, he
soon began, with returning health, to pine for activity, when the happy
thought struck him to build a palace for his children's pets.
He communicated his ideas to Leonard and Effie, and they were delighted.
"Of course," said Leonard, "we must assist."
"Assuredly you must," said Captain Lyle; "the pie would be no pie at all
unless you had a finger in it."
The first thing that the head of the house of Glen Lyle had done was to
sit down in his study one evening after dinner, with the great oil lamp
swinging in front of him, a huge bottle of ink, and a dozen pens and
pencils lying on the table, to say nothing of a whole regiment of
mathematical instruments that had been all through the French war,
compasses, rules, squares, triangles, semi-circles, and what not.
The second thing that Captain Lyle had done was, with a pencil, to fill
a big page of paper with all kinds of droll faces and figures.
Little Effie climbed up behind his chair before long and had a peep over
his shoulder.
"Oh, papa dear!" she cried, "that is not making a menagerie."
"I know it isn't, Effie. I think my thoughts had gone a
wool-gathering."
"Well," said Effie, considering, "we may want some wool for nests and
things; but don't you think, papa, that we should build the house first,
and look for the wool afterwards?"
"Oh!" cried Leonard, "don't worry about the wool. Captain Lyle, your
son Leonard, who stands before you, knows where to find lots of it. For
whenever a sheep runs through a hedge--and they're always, running
through hedges, you know--they leave a tuft of wool on every thorn."
"Well, my son, we'll leave the wool out of the question for the
present." Then he walked about smiling to himself for a time and
thinking, while the boy and girl amused themselves turning over the
leaves of an old-fashioned picture-book.
"Hush!" said Effie several times when Leonard laughed too loud. "Hush!
for I'm sure papa is deep in thought."
"I have it!" cried papa.
And down he sat.
Words, and figures, and little morsels of sketches came very fast now,
the secret of his present success being that he did not try to force
himself to think, and my readers will find that our best thoughts come
to us when we do not try to worry after them.
Yes, Captain Lyle's ideas were flowing now, so quickly that he had to
jot them down, or sketch them down here and there all over a great sheet
of paper, and in about an hour's time the rush of thought had, in a
measure, expended itself. He leant back in his chair, and gave a sigh
of relief.
Once more Effie came stealing up on tiptoe and peeped over his shoulder.
"Oh, what a scrawl!" she cried.
"My dear Eff," said her father, "that is only the crude material."
"Leonardie," cried Effie, "come and see the rude material."
"Well, it does seem rude enough material," said Leonard.
"Yes," said Effie, "but I'm sure my clever papa will make something out
of it before he has done."
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Note 1. Dool, _Scottice_--Grief or sorrow.
Book 1--CHAPTER THREE.