"And I wish you would beat me, Mr Maclean, for I am sure I deserve it."
"Boys only are whipped who are obstinate, and are not sorry for what
they have done, and just to teach them right from wrong when they do not
know it," answered the laird. "I am glad to see that you are sorry, and
that you do know that you did wrong; so, laddie, I cannot oblige you,
you see, unless Fanny asks me."
"Oh, she will not ask you, for she has forgiven me, and is so kind, and
wants to forget all about it," said Norman bursting into tears.
"That is just like her, the sweet little creature," said the laird to
himself, adding aloud, "If your sister has forgiven you, and you are
sorry for what you have done, I have no reason to be angry or to whip
you, so, my laddie, we will not talk of that any more. At the same
time, I do not advise you to try and forget the matter, but just always
think how kind your sister is, and try to please her, and be as kind to
her as possible."
While the laird retired to dress, Norman went into the drawing-room. No
one was there. He did not know how to amuse himself. He wished that he
could read; but he had not yet made sufficient progress to enable him to
find any pleasure in a book. He hunted about for some of Fanny's
picture-books, but she had taken them upstairs, with the exception of
one which he did not care much about. For want of a better, however, he
took it to the table, and, clambering into a high-backed chair which
stood at it, tried to make out the meaning of the lines at the bottom of
the page with the aid of the pictures.
He had been more agitated during the day than usual, and he felt very
weary. Gradually his head dropped down on his arms, which were resting
on the table, and he fell fast asleep. Still he thought that he was
broad awake. To his surprise he saw before him the bird-cage, which he
was sure Fanny had taken up to granny's room, for he had seen her go in
with it; but there it stood on the table directly before him. Presently
he heard a chirping sound, just as the linnet used to sing, and looking
up, there, growing out of nothing, was the branch of a tree, and several
little birds exactly like Pecksy perched upon it, while many more were
flying through the sky towards him, and evidently coming down to join
the others. Instead of singing merrily, however, like little Pecksy,
their voices had a croaking angry sound. By degrees the voices changed
from the notes of birds into those of human beings.
"Naughty, naughty boy!" said a voice which seemed to come from behind,
"why did you kill Pecksy?"
Norman looked round. There, at the back of his chair he saw perched a
bird which nodded its head up and down, and glared at him with its
bright little eyes. He was too much frightened to reply; indeed, he had
nothing to say for himself.
"You will not answer, then I must answer for you," said the voice, which
evidently came from the bird, and though it spoke like a human being,
yet it had the sound of a bird's notes, only much louder and shriller
than any bird he had ever heard.
"You know that you were angry with little Robby, and jealous of your
sweet sister, and that when old Alec gave her our little brother you
resolved to kill it on the first opportunity. You thought of doing that
cruel deed not only then, but day after day, and you watched for an
opportunity. The opportunity came, and when you let the heavy book fall
down on the poor little innocent creature, you knew perfectly well that
it must kill him, if it did not press him as flat as a pancake. We will
not forget what you have done, Master Norman Vallery. When you come
into the garden we will not sing to you sweetly, but we will croak at
you like so many crows, and call you `Naughty, naughty boy!' When you
run away we will follow you, for we can fly faster than you can run, and
we will perch on the branches round you, and croak out, `Naughty,
naughty boy!' When you run on still farther to get away from us, we
will fly on either side of you, and will croak out, `Naughty, naughty
boy!'"
"Oh, do not, do not, please do not!" murmured Norman, though he spoke so
low that he did not think the bird could hear him. "I will try not to
be jealous of Fanny, or to be angry with her or anybody else."
"We do not trust you," said the bird on the back of his chair.
"We won't trust you," echoed the others, perched on the branch. "We
shall do as we have said; you will find that we can keep our promise,
though you are ready enough to break yours. Who killed cock robin, who
killed cock robin, who killed cock robin?" sang the birds in chorus.
"That little boy there, with his head on the table!" answered the bird
at the back of his chair. "But he did not do it with a bow and arrow,
he did it with a big heavy book, and it was not cock robin he killed,
but our dear little brother Pecksy, the naughty, naughty boy!"
"Oh, I am so sorry!" groaned Norman. "You are right, I own that you are
right, but do not scold me any more."
"We shall see how you behave yourself. If you are a good boy we may
relent, but if not, when you go into the woods, instead of singing
sweetly as we do to your sister, and trying our best to give her
pleasure, we will keep our promise, and croak in your ears, `Naughty,
naughty boy!'"
Norman tried to cry out, to ask the birds not to be so angry with him.
Just then he heard another voice saying--
"My dear Norman, you are sleeping very uncomfortably with your head on
the table, let me put you on the sofa. Your papa will soon be here, and
after a little rest you will look fresh and ready to receive him."
Norman lifted up his head and saw his mamma leaning over him.
The cage was gone, and the branch with all the birds on it had
disappeared. He looked round, expecting to see the angry little bird at
the back of his chair, but that had gone also, and he found, greatly to
his relief, that he had been dreaming.
He told his mamma what he had seen.
"It was all your fancy, Norman," she answered, "you were over-excited
and tired. I will sit by you and take care that the birds do not come
back again."
His mamma placed him on the sofa and sat down by his side.
Norman was very soon again fast asleep, but the birds did not return, he
only heard Fanny's sweet voice telling him how much she loved him, and
wished to forgive him all the harm he had done. He awoke much refreshed
and happier than he had been for a long time.
"Here is papa! here is Captain Vallery!" he heard several voices
exclaim.
Directly afterwards Captain Vallery entered the drawing-room with his
mamma and Fanny who had run out to meet him. Norman jumped up from the
sofa.
"Why, my dear boy, you look rosy and well and fat, as if the Highland
air agreed with you," said his papa, stooping down and kissing him.
"Why mamma, how grown he is. You will soon be a big boy, and able to
play at cricket and football, and fish and shoot."
"I can answer for it that he will soon be able to fish if he follows my
directions," observed the laird. "He already has some notion of
throwing a fly, and I hope in the course of a year or two that he will
turn out a good fisher."
"I hope he will turn out a good boy," observed Mrs Leslie, "for that is
of more consequence, and I trust that he will become some day all we can
desire."
"No fear of that, granny, I hope," observed Captain Vallery; "Norman is
my son, and I intend that my son shall become a first-rate fellow."
Norman felt proud of hearing his father speak of him in that way. At
the same time he was afraid that somehow or other he might hear of his
misdeeds, and be inclined to change his opinion. If his grandmamma and
Fanny did not say what he had done, his mamma might, or Mrs Maclean, or
the laird, or perhaps some of the servants, for he had never taken any
pains to ingratiate himself with them.
This prevented him from feeling as happy as he otherwise might have
been.
The laird insisted that the children should come down to dessert.
In consequence of their papa's arrival, dinner was much later than
usual.
Fanny would only accept a little fruit and a small cake, but Norman, who
was hungry, and liked good things, eagerly gobbled up as many cakes and
as much fruit as the laird, near whom he sat, offered him. When he had
finished, without asking anybody's leave, he put out his hand and helped
himself to a peach which was in a plate temptingly near. Having
finished it, he looked towards the dish of cakes which was at a little
distance.
"I should like some of those, now," he said, pointing at them.
"Ye are a braw laddie, ye tak' your meat," observed the laird. "Pray,
Mrs Vallery, hand me the cakes."
His mamma made signs to Norman that he should not have asked for them,
but he did not attend to her, and when the laird handed him the dish he
helped himself to several, and began to eat them up quickly, fearing
that they might be taken from him.
"My dear, you will make that child ill," observed Mrs Maclean,
addressing her husband from the other end of the table.
Norman looked round very indignantly at her, and helped himself again.
Mrs Maclean had from the first perceived that Norman was allowed to
have too much of his own way. He had discovered this, and was inclined
to consider her as his personal enemy. Not content with what he had
already obtained, as soon as he had emptied his plate, he helped himself
to another cake or two from the plate which the laird had left near him.
Mrs Maclean shook her head, and looked at Mrs Leslie.
"Norman, you really must not eat so much," said his grandmamma.
"I am not eating much," he answered in an angry tone, forgetting his
good resolutions. "You all have had dinner, and it's very hard that I
should be told I must not eat when I am hungry."
The laird, who was amused at the remark, laughed heartily. "You follow
the example of the renowned Captain Dalgetty, and lay in a store when
you have the opportunity."
"Captain Dalgetty was an old soldier of fortune, and never knew when he
might next find a meal, and Norman is a little boy, and is very sure to
have a sufficient breakfast to-morrow morning," observed Mrs Leslie,
"so pray Mr Maclean, do not let him have any more dessert."
"Mr Maclean is very kind, and you are all very ill-natured," exclaimed
Norman angrily.
"Then it is time we should leave the table and carry you along with us,
young gentleman," exclaimed Mrs Maclean, rising.
Norman was now thoroughly out of temper, and in contempt of his granny,
who sat opposite to him, he seized another cake, which he crammed into
his mouth. His grandmamma again shook her head at him, and then rising,
came round to take him from his chair.
"Wish Mr Maclean good-night, and go and kiss your papa," she said, "for
it is time for you to go to bed, I am sure."
Norman did not wish to leave the table as long as he could get anything
on it, and obstinately kept his seat.
Fanny felt very much vexed at seeing him behave in this way, and hurried
up to assist her granny, not supposing for a moment that he would still
refuse to go.
He held on to the table, and she had some difficulty in dragging him
away. Forgetting all her loving-kindness in the morning, as she
attempted to pull him away, he struck out at her with his little fists,
and hit her a severe blow on the face. She endeavoured not to cry out,
or to show any one what he had done, for indeed she felt more pain on
his account than on her own. The laird, who had gone to open the door,
did not see what had occurred.
"Let me go that I may wish papa good-night," said Norman, tearing
himself away from Fanny, and running towards Captain Vallery.
"Good-night, my boy," said his papa, who also had not observed his
ill-behaviour. "When I unpack my portmanteau I hope to find some things
for you and Fanny. You shall see them to-morrow morning."
"Cannot you let me have them to-night? I hope you have got something I
like," said Norman, without any thought of thanking his papa for his
kindness.
"I am afraid you must wait till to-morrow," answered Captain Vallery,
not rebuking him. "I have not had time to unpack my portmanteau, so you
must have patience."
"I want the things now," said Norman; "everybody is trying to vex me."
"Go to bed, you are tired," said Captain Vallery soothingly. "Here,
Fanny come and take the poor child off, I see that he has been sitting
up too long."
Norman, indeed, looked flushed and ill, and Fanny hoped that after a
night's rest, he would recollect his promise to try and behave well.
Though he still resisted, she managed to lead him from the room.
"Leave me alone, Fanny," he exclaimed, as soon as they reached the
drawing-room. "I don't want to go to bed, I had some sleep this
afternoon, I have as much right to sit up as anybody else has," and
again he struck out at her.
"My dear Norman, have you already forgotten the promises you made to be
a good boy?" she said gently. "Oh, do try and restrain your temper."
"I did not say I would be good, if people were ill-natured to me, and
granny and Mrs Maclean wanted to stop me from having dessert, and I
should have liked some more, and the laird would have given it me, if it
had not been for them," he answered petulantly. "I never liked old
women, and I do not like them now."
"Hush, hush, Norman," cried Fanny horrified, and fearing that they might
overhear him. "Do go to bed quietly, and I will come and help you if
mamma will let me."
Mrs Vallery who had come from the farther end of the room, observing
that Norman looked flushed and angry, although she had not heard what he
had said, thought it advisable without further delay to carry him off to
bed. He resisted, however, and said he was not sleepy and would not go.
Mrs Maclean now came to his mamma's assistance. She had no notion of a
little boy behaving as Norman was doing. "Hoity, toity, young
gentleman, I cannot have you treat your mamma in this way in my house,
so come along this instant, and do not let me hear another word from
you."
Norman looked very angry at Mrs Maclean, but he obeyed her, for he had
sense enough left to know that he had better do as she bid him, for fear
she should tell his papa how he had treated Fanny's bird.
Alas! all his good resolutions had been scattered to the winds. He now,
however, went quietly enough with his mamma. When he got to his room,
he gave her as much trouble as he could, and declared that he was too
sleepy to say his prayers, though just before he had been asserting that
he was not at all sleepy, and did not wish to go to bed. She, in vain,
begged him to do so, and had at last, as she often had before done, to
kneel down by his bedside and pray for him. He turned his face away
from her, when she bade him good-night, and only mumbled a reply. There
are, I am afraid, many more little boys like Norman, who do not regret
how much pain they give those who love them best.
Poor Fanny was especially grieved. She had flattered herself that happy
days were coming, when Norman would be gentle and obliging, and all she
could wish, and now he appeared to be as naughty as ever.
I do not know whether the little birds again visited him in his dreams,
and croaked and scolded him, and told him that he was a very, very
naughty boy, but I am very certain that his dreams could not have been
pleasant.
Fanny had another cause for regret, when she looked up at the spot where
the cage with her little favourite in it used to hang, and no cage was
there. Had Norman continued to show that he was sorry, and was really
going to behave better, she would not she thought have felt her loss so
much. As soon as she was up in the morning, she went in as usual to
help her brother, who though he declared that he could dress himself,
never managed to do so properly. He appeared to be in a better temper
than on the previous evening.
"Good morning, Fanny," he said, jumping up. "I won't keep you long, for
I want to get downstairs as soon as possible to see the things papa has
brought us. I wonder what they are."
"I am sure they are what we shall like," said Fanny, "though I did not
know that he had brought anything."
"He has brought me something at all events," said Norman, "for he told
me so, and I hope that he will bring them, when he comes downstairs, or
perhaps he would give them to me if I went to his room."
"Pray, don't do that," said Fanny. "It will appear as if you were more
eager to learn what he has brought than to see him, and he may not have
time before breakfast to unpack his large portmanteau."
Norman felt vexed that his sister should give him this advice, and
somewhat unwillingly accompanied her downstairs.
Mrs Maclean, who was in the breakfast-room, received Fanny in her
usually affectionate way.
"Good-morrow to you, young gentleman; I hope you have slept yourself
into a pleasanter humour than you went to bed with," she said, as she
held out her hand, and made him a formal curtsey.
Norman did not like her salutation, but the awe he felt for her,
prevented him from making a rude answer which rose to his lips.
"I hope Norman will be a good boy to-day, Mrs Maclean," said Fanny,
wishing to apologise for him. "He was tired last night, and did not
know exactly what he was about."
"But little boys should know what they are about," observed the lady.
"However, we will hope for the best, and I shall be glad to see him eat
his porridge with an appetite."
"Are you prepared, Fanny, for an excursion to-day? We have been asked
to join some friends in a picnic at Glen Corpach, and as there are
several young people among the families who have promised to come, you
will have companions of your own age."
"I shall be delighted. What a lovely day for it too," exclaimed Fanny,
"and I am sure Norman will like it very much."
Norman wondered what a picnic could mean.
"Is there to be fun of any sort? What are we to do?" he asked.
"My idea of a picnic," answered Fanny, "is, that people collect at a
beautiful spot, and bring pies and chickens and all sorts of things to
eat, and spread them out on a table-cloth on the grass; and sit round it
on the ground, and talk merrily, and laugh; and that some facetious old
gentleman makes a funny speech; and songs are sung; and that here in
Scotland there is a bag-piper; and that people get up and dance, and the
young ladies have their sketch-books, and when tired of dancing make
sketches and ramble about among the rocks. That then a gipsy-fire is
lighted, and tea is made, and that after that, perhaps there is more
dancing. At last the time comes for people to start, and they all drive
home again. I went with granny to a picnic like that last year, and she
enjoyed it very much, and I am sure I did."
"You have given a very good description of what, I daresay, our proposed
picnic will be like," said Mrs Maclean; "and I hope you will enjoy it
as much as you did yours last year. I have no doubt there will be a
piper, and, perhaps, two or three, and that they will do their best to
make the hills resound with their music."
"I think it will be very stupid if we do nothing else than that," said
Norman. "It might be better if we could shoot or fish, or if there is a
boat in which the other boys and I can row about."
"I daresay our friends will try to find amusement for you little boys as
well as for the older persons of the party, though, if you wish it, we
might possibly make arrangements to leave you behind," observed Mrs
Maclean.
"No, no, I should not like that," answered Norman, shaking his head. "I
will go to see what is done."
Mrs Maclean smiled at the young gentleman's answer.
The rest of the party soon entered the breakfast-room. Captain Vallery
came last. Fanny jumped up to throw her arms round his neck and kiss
him; but Norman did not leave his seat; he had been looking out for the
presents of which his papa had spoken. He was much disappointed when he
saw him deposit two small parcels on the sideboard.
"We will look at them after prayers," he observed.
Mr Maclean kept to the good custom of having all the servants in to
morning prayers, and reading to them from God's Word. Norman attended
very little to what was said, as he was wondering all the time what
could be in the parcels.
"I wish they had been bigger," he thought, "for I am afraid papa has,
after all, brought some stupid little things which I shall not care
about, and perhaps Fanny's will be better than mine."
The patience of Norman was still further to be tried, for his papa, who
was hungry, forgot all about the presents, and took his seat with the
rest of the party at the breakfast table.
"Come, my boy, eat your porridge, or it will begetting cold," said Mr
Maclean, lifting Norman into the air, and placing him down in the chair
as if he had been a little baby.
Norman felt indignant, as he liked to be treated as a big boy. He was,
however, in spite of his curiosity, glad to swallow his porridge, and to
eat some bacon, with a slice or two of bread and preserves, which Mr
Maclean placed in succession upon his plate.
At last he could no longer restrain his anxiety to know what his papa
had brought. Fanny also thought she should like to know, but had
refrained from saying anything.
"What have you brought for us there?" he asked at length, pointing
towards them.
"You may bring them and we will see," answered his papa.
Norman jumped up, and, seizing the parcels, began tearing them open.
"Stop, stop!" cried his grandmamma, who observed him. "You do not know
which is for you; and your papa told you to bring them."
Norman paid but little attention to what Mrs Leslie said, and had
almost torn one of them open before his papa took them.
"We must look at the one for Fanny first, as she is a young lady,"
observed Captain Vallery, feeling the parcels, and undoing one, he
presented Fanny with a box which had a glass top, and inside of it was a
white swan with three gaily-coloured fish.
"If we had a basin of water we should be able to make the swan and fish
swim about," said Captain Vallery; "I never saw anything of the sort
before, and was sure Fanny would like it."
Now Fanny had not only seen but possessed a magnetic toy similar to the
one her papa had brought her. She had, however, given it away to a
young friend who had expressed a wish to possess it; and Fanny had
assured her that she found no great amusement in it herself.
Mrs Leslie, too, knew this, and was pleased to see the affectionate way
in which Fanny thanked her papa. Fanny, though she did not care for the
gift herself, was grateful to him for having brought it to her, and she
thought that it would, at all events, amuse Norman, who had never seen
anything of the sort. She therefore gladly jumped down to ring the bell
that the servant might bring a dish of water for the swan and fish to
swim in, and to be attracted by the magnet, which she found carefully
wrapped up at the bottom of the box. She looked forward with pleasure
to the surprise her brother would exhibit at seeing the fish and swan
come at her call.
Norman, who was in the meantime fumbling away at the other parcel, eyed
her toy with a feeling very like that which had entered his heart when
she had her beautiful doll given to her. His parcel felt soft, he
feared that it was of very little value, and he wondered what it could
possibly be. At last the paper was torn off.
"Why, it's only the skin of an old football without any wind in it!" he
exclaimed in a disappointed tone.
"It is a new football, and we can soon put wind in it," observed his
papa, laughing at what he thought his son's wit; and taking it from
Norman, he put the part with the hole to his mouth and began to blow and
blow till gradually the ball swelled out to its full size. Norman
looked on wonderingly all the time. Then Captain Vallery fastened a
piece of string round the neck of the bladder into which he had been
blowing, and tightly laced up the leathern covering.
"There my boy," he exclaimed, "you have a brand new football which you
may kick from John o' Groat's house to the Land's End without its being
much the worse for its journey, only you must not treat it as you did
the last."
Norman ran after the ball, which his papa rolled to the other end of the
room. The pleasure he might have felt at obtaining it was taken away by
his hearing Captain Vallery tell the laird how he had cut open his other
ball to look for the wind in it, at which the laird laughed heartily,
declaring that he was a true philosopher and would some day become the
Principal of the University of Aberdeen or Saint Andrews.
The servant coming in with the dish, Norman left his ball to see the
swan and fish come at Fanny's call to be fed. She managed very
cleverly, by holding a piece of bread over the magnet. Norman looked
on, wondering what could make the creatures come when Fanny called them,
and half believing that they must be alive. Then he thought how much he
should like to have them if they would come to him as readily as they
did to Fanny.
"Let me try them, Fanny," he said eagerly; "I am sure if I call them
they will swim across the dish to me. Mamma give me a piece of bread."
Norman held it to the side of the dish. Neither the swan nor the fish
moved; then he threw some crumbs towards them, but they had no greater
effect. He began to grow angry.
"I do not see why they should come more to you than to me," he said
grumpily.
Fanny then let him see that she held something in her hand.
"What is that?" he asked.
"That is my magic wand?" she answered laughing. "Perhaps if you take it
you will find that the creatures come towards you."
Norman snatched it from her. The swan was at this time near him. What
was his astonishment on presenting the rod, to see the swan swim away
from him instead of coming near, and when he tried the fish they did the
same.
"You see they are not so tame to you as they are to me?" said Fanny
laughing.
Norman had presented the reverse end of the magnet, which, of course,
sent them away from him. Again he tried to attract the fish and swan.
"Let me try again!" said Fanny, "if I look angrily at them they will go
away from me as they did from you." She also presented the reverse end
of the magnet, trying to frown, though she had some difficulty in
bringing her smiling countenance to do so. "Now I will look kindly at
them, and call them, and you will see that they will come to me;" and
she presented the right end of the magnet, when all the creatures came
up to the side of the dish near which she stood.
She now gave it back to Norman, and though he did not look as amiable as
she did, he burst into a laugh when he saw the creatures coming towards
him.
"I wish papa had brought me something like that," he said. "There is
some fun in it."
"You shall play with it as much as you like, Norman," said Fanny. "As
it is papa's present I cannot give it you, but you can amuse yourself
with it as much as if it was yours."
This promise for the moment put Norman into better humour, though he
still wished that he had the toy all to himself, while he left his
football neglected on the ground.
The rest of the party went to get ready for their excursion, but he
could not leave Fanny's toy. When she came back dressed, she found him
at the side-table, where the servant had placed the dish.
"I will give you my football for this, for I want it all to myself."
"I am sorry to hear you say that," answered Fanny; "I told you that I
could not give away papa's present, and the football is not suited to a
little girl like me."
"You are an ill-natured thing," exclaimed Norman, petulantly. "You will
never do what I want."
Fanny smiled, though she felt inclined to be vexed at this false
accusation.
"We must at all events put the things up now," she said, "for mamma has
sent me to tell you to come and get ready."
"I will not get ready, I do not want to go to the picnic," said Norman.
"But you must come," said Fanny taking hold of his arm, "mamma wishes
it."
Norman resisted, and, intending to seize the table, caught the dish
instead, and pulled it to the ground, splashing himself over and
breaking the dish.
"Oh what have you done?" cried Fanny.
"It was all your fault," said Norman. "If you had let me alone it would
not have happened."
Fanny did feel very angry with him. What she might have done, it is
difficult to say, had not Mrs Maclean entered the room.
"I can understand how it happened, and whose fault it was," she
observed. "Do not mind the broken dish, dear Fanny, I will send for the
servant to take it away, and do you, young gentleman, go and get ready
to accompany your mamma."
Norman, who on seeing Mrs Maclean enter, fully expected to be punished,
thought her kinder than he had supposed, and felt more inclined to like
her than before. He accompanied Fanny without saying a word, and made
no opposition when getting ready for the excursion.