THE ZOOLOGICAL GARDENS.
It was a lovely day, this 10th of August; there was scarcely a cloud to
be seen in the sky. The trees, it is true, were beginning to put on
their russet tints here and there, but this only added to the beauty of
their colouring; there certainly was at present no disagreeable
appearance of coming changes.
It had been agreed, on the preceding evening, that Mr. and Mrs. Norton
should call for Mabel and Julia, as Mr. Ellis had declared that he could
not spare time for a day's pleasure, and poor Mrs. Ellis said that she
felt too weak at present to undertake the task of wandering about in the
Gardens.
This was a great disappointment to their friends the Nortons, who were
not quite sure that Mrs. Maitland would be able to accompany her young
people, as she had intimated a doubt on the subject before they bade
adieu on the preceding evening: however, they made up their minds that
it would be a pleasant day for the juveniles. Mr. Ellis had strongly
objected to Mabel's making one of the party; he insisted that it would
be only a proper punishment to deprive her of the pleasure on account
of the recent delinquency. He was, however, over-ruled in his opinion,
both by his wife and his friends, and so, very reluctantly, he was
induced to give up the point.
As usual, Mabel's first consideration in the morning, after her papa had
gone out, was what she should wear on this eventful day; and on her
mamma's suggesting that she and Julia should put on their grey dresses,
she was vehemently opposed by that young lady, who declared she would
rather stay at home than go to the Gardens with Mr. and Mrs. Norton in
such a dowdy dress.
Julia, on the contrary, was quite content to follow her mamma's advice,
as she very wisely agreed that if they put on their light silk dresses,
they might have them soiled, or perhaps spoiled. This idea, however, was
treated with contempt by Mabel, and the young lady waxed so warm in the
discussion, that the too indulgent, peace-loving Mrs. Ellis gave way,
and gave permission to her daughters to do as they thought proper, only
she warned them that they had no time to lose.
Away tripped the sisters to make ready--Julia with a determination to
follow her mamma's advice, Mabel with the intention of keeping her own
foolish resolve of pride and vanity.
An obstacle, however, presented itself on the first putting on of the
silk dress: it had not been worn for some time, as during the summer
muslins had superseded silk, and Mabel found, to her great disgust, that
the sleeves were too short. She had certainly known of this before, but
as she was by no means remarkable for provident care of her clothes, in
taking pains to keep them in order, a button wanting, or a rent
unmended, or a sleeve too short, were things not at all to be wondered
at in Mabel's wardrobe.
'How provoking!' she exclaimed, as she looked at her wrists; 'I cannot
possibly go out unless I have under-sleeves, and I haven't a pair.'
'Oh, do as mamma wished,' said Julia; 'put on your grey frock. You will
be much more comfortable, because you won't be afraid of spoiling it.'
'Hold your tongue, you foolish little thing,' replied Mabel. 'I tell you
I wouldn't be seen out with Mr. and Mrs. Norton, with such a dress as
you are wearing; besides,' she continued, 'Harry Maitland will be with
his cousins.'
'And what of that?' exclaimed Julia, in astonishment; 'surely you don't
mind what he thinks about your dress!'
There was no direct answer to this remark, but Mabel declared she was
not going to submit to her younger sister's dictation; and as a capital
idea seemed just then to strike her, she went to one of the small
drawers which indeed belonged to her mamma, and took from thence a pair
of beautiful lace sleeves and proceeded to put them on.
'Oh, don't, don't!' cried Julia; 'pray do not wear those beautiful
sleeves of mamma's! you know dear Aunt Mary gave them to her, and as
they are her work, mamma values them so much! Pray remember the brooch,'
she added; 'or if you will persist in putting them on, go and ask leave
first.'
'I mean to ask mamma when we go downstairs,' said Mabel, 'but you know I
have not time now. I wish you would not be so officious with your advice
and your cautions, just as if I didn't know how to act as well as you
do.'
With the promise that mamma should be spoken to, Julia was obliged to be
satisfied, as a loud tapping at the front-door betokened the arrival of
their friends Mr. and Mrs. Norton; and the two girls hastily finished
their dressing and their discussion, and went down to join their
friends.
Whether, in the hurry of salutations and leave-taking, Mabel actually
_forgot_ her promise to speak to her mamma about the sleeves, we shall
not undertake to say; certain it is, that there was no mention made of
them. And the party set off in high spirits to join their young friends
the Maitlands, as had been agreed, at the gate of the Zoological
Gardens.
There had been strict punctuality on both sides, for neither party had
to wait.
But great was Mabel's mortification to find Dora and Annie had, like her
sister Julia, dressed themselves in their plain grey frocks, so _she_
looked like a golden pheasant among a set of barn-door fowls: and
however much vanity she possessed, her common sense taught her that she
had laid herself open to ridicule; though of course no one spoke of her
dress, and even the beautiful sleeves seemed at the time to attract no
attention.
In a very short time, the whole party were intently gazing with wonder
and admiration on the marvels of creation.
The elephants, the giraffe, the rhinoceros, the hippopotamus, etc., all
passed in review, and elicited remarks of wonder and astonishment from
the young visitors, such as their monstrous size and great strength were
well calculated to draw forth. The lions, tigers, leopards and bears
came in for a share of applause; but as the strength of these animals is
not evidenced by their size, I must acknowledge they were taken less
notice of than either the huge creatures or the smaller and more elegant
and delicate quadrupeds, which, generally speaking, won the admiration
of the party. The bipeds, we may be sure, were not neglected; but the
congregated tribe of them kept up such an incessant clatter, that having
borne it for some little time, Harry Maitland was fain to stop his ears
and run out of their house, declaring that 'their noise was worse than
could be made by a hundred scolding women.' A very ungallant
declaration, certainly, for a young gentleman, and one that he had not,
and was never likely to have, the opportunity of proving the truth of.
Harry was soon joined by the young ladies, whom the noise of the
parrot-house had nearly deafened, and a general resolution was put, and
carried by the whole party, Mabel herself not excepted, that fine
plumage did not at all make amends for disagreeable propensities.
'And now,' said Harry Maitland, with just one sly glance at the bright
silk frock, whose wearer was standing beside him, 'suppose we go and pay
a visit to our friends the monkeys? That is to say, young ladies,' he
added, 'if you don't think it would be jumping out of the frying-pan
into the fire, and can endure smell better than noise.'
'Oh yes!' was the general exclamation; 'do let us go and see the
monkeys.'
'Who has got any biscuits or nuts?' inquired Dora Maitland. 'I haven't
got anything.'
'I have some pieces of biscuit left from what I bought for the
elephants,' said Mabel.
'And I have nuts in my pocket,' said Harry; 'while the monkeys are
cracking them, we can be cracking our jokes.' But these proved to be
rather unpleasant ones, to one at least of the party, who, nevertheless,
as she could not foresee what was coming, was the first to laugh at
Harry's silly speech.
The monkey-house proved, as they thought it would, anything but
agreeable to the olfactory nerves of our young friends; though their
attention was soon diverted from what was offensive, by the very amusing
gymnastics of the monkeys, who, while they performed their various feats
of skill, had evidently an eye to the main chance, and kept a vigilant
look-out for something more substantial than applause.
'Give this old fellow a bit of your biscuit, Mabel,' said Dora Maitland;
'he is evidently expecting some from us.'
Now we know that monkeys, though they are anxious expectants, are not
very gracious receivers, which poor Mabel, who seemed to, be the doomed
person, found to her cost, when, on stretching out her arm to give the
required morsel, the ungrateful recipient caught hold of the beautiful
lace sleeve, tore it from her arm, doubled it up in an instant, and
thrust it into his mouth, clambering with great rapidity to the very
top of his habitation, as if afraid of pursuit, and looking down with a
hideous grin on the astonished and disgusted parties below.
'Oh, poor mamma's beautiful lace sleeve!' ejaculated Julia, to the great
annoyance of the trembling and affrighted Mabel, on whom all eyes were
now turned.
'Oh, what a pity! what a pity!' sounded on every side; but there was no
redress, and Mabel, unable to restrain her tears, or to give vent to her
varied feelings of anger, scorn, and vexation, rushed out of the
monkey-house, leaving Julia to explain, and her friends to condole. All
the party except Harry Maitland had before seen, and very greatly
admired, these sleeves of Mrs. Ellis's, which, as I said before, were
Aunt Mary's work; and sorry, very sorry, were both Dora and Annie
Maitland to hear that Mabel had put them on without her mamma's leave.
'Well, it's no use being sorry now,' cried Harry Maitland; 'we can't
restore the sleeve, that's certain. I wonder how girls can be so foolish
as to dress themselves up, when they come to such a place as
this--especially,' he added sarcastically, 'in other people's finery.'
'I am glad Mabel was not near enough to hear your remarks, Harry,' said
his cousin Dora; 'I am sure she must be quite enough troubled, without
our saying anything disagreeable.'
'Yes, but she brought the trouble upon herself, and therefore she
deserves to suffer,' persisted Harry; 'the worst of it is,' he added,
'she makes innocent people suffer for her fault.'
'Let us go and see after Mabel,' said the kind-hearted Annie; 'I think
we have all had enough of the monkeys to-day.'
'Yes, one young lady has had rather too much of them,' said Harry, 'or
rather, I should say, the monkey has had too much of her; though the old
fellow appears to be quite satisfied with the trick he has played.'
'There is Mabel,' cried Julia, as they came out of the monkey-house.
'Poor thing, don't let us say anything more about the sleeve; I am sure
she must feel very uncomfortable.'
'I wonder where we shall find Mr. and Mrs. Norton,' said Dora; 'we have
been a long time away from them: perhaps they are looking after us.'
'I'll tell you where I think they are,' said Harry; 'it is about the
time for the sea-lion to exhibit himself, and we had better bend our
steps that way, for we are almost sure of finding the lady and gentleman
there;' and it proved to be the fact, for among the numerous spectators
which the sea-lions had attracted, our young friends soon singled out
Mr. and Mrs. Norton. The flushed face and tear-swollen eyes of Mabel did
not escape the notice of the lady, but seeing that she turned away, and
appeared anxious to avoid observation, Mrs. Norton made no remark, and
soon all the party were interested spectators of the various exploits of
the marine prodigy.
Suddenly, however, a violent plunge of the animal into the water, on the
side near which our friends were standing, sent a rather unpleasant
shower-bath among the crowd, and caused a sudden retreat, though it did
not take place in time for all of them to avoid a wetting. I am sorry to
say that Mabel's silk frock came in for a share; but this would not
really have mattered much, if, in her hurry to get out of the way, she
had not unfortunately set her foot on the skirt of it, which made her
fall on one knee, and thus come in contact with the wet soil and gravel,
which, however harmless they might have proved to a grey dress, by no
means improved the colour of a light silk one. 'Misfortunes never come
alone,' it is said; and though I am not myself a firm believer in this
proverb, it certainly proved true with regard to Mabel Ellis, though
these misfortunes were entirely the results of her pride and self-will,
so she does not deserve our commiseration.
It was evident, too, that she did not wish for sympathy just then, for
brushing off the soil from her dress, and making very light of the
matter, she seemed to say: 'I don't want your sympathy; please to keep
it to yourselves.'
Of course my readers will not suppose that the young lady really was
indifferent to the spoiling of her dress, but she had so much silly
pride in her composition, that she thought to appear sorry would lower
her in the eyes of her companions. She certainly did not judge _them_
correctly, nor had she as yet, poor girl, reached the climax of her
troubles; but for this we must go a little further, and see the party
comfortably seated at one of the marble tables in the elegant
refreshment-rooms, where tea, and sandwiches, and buns are plentifully
provided, and highly appreciated by the young ramblers after their long
walk and sight-seeing, which are both very exhausting, and require
refreshment, and relaxation, and rest. Seated round this pleasant table,
and in the enjoyment of the good things that were placed thereon, the
spirits of the young ones of the party rose considerably; and Harry
Maitland, who was quick-witted and fond of joking, created plenty of
juvenile mirth by his remarks upon the monkey tribe, though of course he
avoided saying anything that might lead to unpleasant inquiries.
It happened, unfortunately, that when the lace sleeve had been so
ruthlessly torn from Mabel's arm by the audacious monkey, it did not
occur to that young lady to make sure of the other sleeve by taking it
off and putting it into her pocket. Instead of acting thus prudently,
she contented herself with tucking the lace up under its elastic band--a
very treacherous safeguard, as it proved.
Our friend Harry, as the young squire of the party, was very attentive
to the ladies, as indeed he always was; but it happened unfortunately
that in handing a plate of buns to his opposite neighbour, Mabel, he
became the innocent cause of another disaster to that most luckless
damsel, for the lace that had been so unceremoniously tucked out of
sight, having escaped from the elastic band, attached itself to the
handle of Mabel's cup, as she reached out her hand to take the offered
bun, and upset the whole of its contents, which, though the greater part
of the fluid went into the saucer, quite sufficient found its way into
Mabel's dress to put the finishing stroke to her misfortunes.
Hastily jumping up, and without waiting for any condolence or
assistance, the excited girl rushed out of the room, followed by Julia,
whose kind heart really ached to see her sister so distressed.
'Don't follow them out, my dears,' said Mrs. Norton to Dora and Annie
Maitland, who had risen from their chairs to do so. 'I am sure,' she
continued, 'that Mabel would much rather be without your sympathy, and
you cannot possibly render her any assistance. Poor foolish girl,' added
the lady, 'I cannot say I am sorry for _her_; but I well know what
trouble she must give her mamma, whom I really am sorry for.'
'But, Laura dear,' inquired Mr. Norton, 'don't you suspect that some
blame must attach itself to the young lady's mother? Faults, you know,
like ill weeds, grow apace if they are not corrected; and the weeds, if
suffered to grow rank, will destroy the beautiful flowers which we
expected to see in our gardens. Is it not so, do you think?'
'Yes, you are quite right, no doubt,' replied the lady; 'and I fear that
my poor friend, Mrs. Ellis, will find it very difficult, if not
impossible, to correct faults, which, through weak indulgence, seem to
have taken deep root. But,' added Mrs. Norton, rising to go, 'this is no
place for sermonising. We have had a pleasant day, notwithstanding the
troubles of our young friends; we had better look after them now, and
wend our way homewards.'