CHAPTER IX
A HAPPY TEA
Exactly five minutes before six the party arrived in great state, forBab and Betty wore their best frocks and hair-ribbons, Ben had a newblue shirt and his shoes on as full-dress, and Sancho's curls werenicely brushed, his frills as white as if just done up.
No one was visible to receive them, but the low table stood in themiddle of the walk, with four chairs and a foot-stool around it. Apretty set of green and white china caused the girls to cast admiringlooks upon the little cups and plates, while Ben eyed the feastlongingly, and Sancho with difficulty restrained himself from repeatinghis former naughtiness. No wonder the dog sniffed and the childrensmiled, for there was a noble display of little tarts and cakes, littlebiscuits and sandwiches, a pretty milk-pitcher shaped like a white callarising out of its green leaves, and a jolly little tea-kettle singingaway over the spirit-lamp as cosily as you please.
"Isn't it perfectly lovely?" whispered Betty, who had never seen anything like it before.
"I just wish Sally could see us now," answered Bab, who had not yetforgiven her enemy.
"Wonder where the boy is," added Ben, feeling as good as any one, butrather doubtful how others might regard him.
Here a rumbling sound caused the guests to look toward the garden, andin a moment Miss Celia appeared, pushing a wheeled chair, in which sather brother. A gay afghan covered the long legs, a broad-brimmed hathalf hid the big eyes, and a discontented expression made the thin faceas unattractive as the fretful voice, which said, complainingly,--
"If they make a noise, I'll go in. Don't see what you asked them for."
"To amuse you, dear. I know they will, if you will only try to likethem," whispered the sister, smiling, and nodding over the chair-back asshe came on, adding aloud, "Such a punctual party! I am all ready,however, and we will sit down at once. This is my brother Thornton, andwe are all going to be very good friends by-and-by. Here 's the drolldog, Thorny; isn't he nice and curly?"
Now, Ben had heard what the other boy said, and made up his mind that heshouldn't like him; and Thorny had decided beforehand that he wouldn'tplay with a tramp, even if he cut capers; go both looked decidedly cooland indifferent when Miss Celia introduced them. But Sancho had bettermanners and no foolish pride; he, therefore, set them a good example byapproaching the chair, with his tail waving like a flag of truce, andpolitely presented his ruffled paw for a hearty shake.
Thorny could not resist that appeal, and patted the white head, with afriendly look into the affectionate eyes of the dog, saying to hissister as he did so,--
"What a wise old fellow he is! It seems as if he could almost speak,doesn't it?"
"He can. Say 'How do you do,' Sanch," commanded Ben, relenting at once,for he saw admiration in Thorny's face.
"Wow, wow, wow!" remarked Sancho, in a mild and conversational tone,sitting up and touching one paw to his head, as if he saluted by takingoff his hat. Thorny laughed in spite of himself, and Miss Celia seeingthat the ice was broken, wheeled him to his place at the foot of thetable. Then, seating the little girls on one side, Ben and the dog onthe other, took the head herself and told her guests to begin. Bab andBetty were soon chattering away to their pleasant hostess as freely asif they had known her for months; but the boys were still rather shy,and made Sancho the medium through which they addressed one another. Theexcellent beast behaved with wonderful propriety, sitting upon hiscushion in an attitude of such dignity that it seemed almost a liberty tooffer him food. A dish of thick sandwiches had been provided for hisespecial refreshment; and, as Ben from time to time laid one on hisplate, he affected entire unconsciousness of it till the word was given,when it vanished at one gulp, and Sancho again appeared absorbed in deepthought.
But, having once tasted of this pleasing delicacy, it was very hard torepress his longing for more; and, in spite of all his efforts, his nosewould work, his eye kept a keen watch upon that particular dish, and histail quivered with excitement as it lay like a train over the redcushion. At last, a moment came when temptation proved too strong forhim. Ben was listening to something Miss Celia said; a tart layunguarded upon his plate; Sanch looked at Thorny who was watching him;Thorny nodded, Sanch gave one wink, bolted the tart, and then gazedpensively up at a sparrow swinging on a twig overhead.
The slyness of the rascal tickled the boy so much that he pushed backhis hat, clapped his hands, and burst out laughing as he had not donebefore for weeks. Every one looked round surprised, and Sancho regardedthem with a mildly inquiring air, as if he said, "Why this unseemlymirth, my friends?"
Thorny forgot both sulks and shyness after that, and suddenly began totalk. Ben was flattered by his interest in the dear dog, and opened outso delightfully that he soon charmed the other by his lively tales ofcircus-life. Then Miss Celia felt relieved, and every thing wentsplendidly, especially the food; for the plates were emptied severaltimes, the little tea-pot ran dry twice, and the hostess was justwondering if she ought to stop her voracious guests, when somethingoccurred which spared her that painful task.
A small boy was suddenly discovered standing in the path behind them,regarding the company with an air of solemn interest. A pretty,well-dressed child of six, with dark hair cut short across the brow, arosy face, a stout pair of legs, left bare by the socks which hadslipped down over the dusty little shoes. One end of a wide sash trailedbehind him, a straw hat hung at his back, his right hand firmly graspeda small turtle, and his left a choice collection of sticks. Before MissCelia could speak, the stranger calmly announced his mission.
"I have come to see the peacocks."
"You shall presently--" began Miss Celia, but got no further, for thechild added, coming a step nearer,--
"And the wabbits."
"Yes, but first won't you--"
"And the curly dog," continued the small voice, as another step broughtthe resolute young personage nearer.
"There he is."
A pause, a long look; then a new demand with the same solemn tone, thesame advance.
"I wish to hear the donkey bray."
"Certainly, if he will."
"And the peacocks scream."
"Any thing more, sir?"
Having reached the table by this time, the insatiable infant surveyedits ravaged surface, then pointed a fat little finger at the last cake,left for manners, and said, commandingly,--
"I will have some of that."
"Help yourself; and sit upon the step to eat it, while you tell me whoseboy you are," said Miss Celia, much amused at his proceedings.
Deliberately putting down his sticks, the child took the cake, and,composing himself upon the step, answered with his rosy mouth full,--
"I am papa's boy. He makes a paper. I help him a great deal."
"What is his name?"
"Mr. Barlow. We live in Springfield," volunteered the new guest,unbending a trifle, thanks to the charms of the cake.
"Have you a mamma, dear?"
"She takes naps. I go to walk then."
"Without leave, I suspect. Have you no brothers or sisters to go withyou?" asked Miss Celia, wondering where the little runaway belonged.
"I have two brothers, Thomas Merton Barlow and Harry Sanford Barlow. Iam Alfred Tennyson Barlow. We don't have any girls in our house, onlyBridget."
"Don't you go to school?"
"The boys do. I don't learn any Greeks and Latins yet. I dig, and readto mamma, and make poetrys for her."
"Couldn't you make some for me? I'm very fond of poetrys," proposedMiss Celia, seeing that this prattle amused the children.
"I guess I couldn't make any now; I made some coming along. I will sayit to you." And, crossing his short legs, the inspired babe half said,half sung the following poem: (1)
"Sweet are the flowers of life, Swept o'er my happy days at home; Sweet are the flowers of life When I was a little child.
"Sweet are the flowers of life That I spent with my father at home; Sweet are the flowers of l
ife When children played about the house.
"Sweet are the flowers of life When the lamps are lighted at night; Sweet are the flowers of life When the flowers of summer bloomed.
"Sweet are the flowers of life Dead with the snows of winter; Sweet are the flowers of life When the days of spring come on.
(1) These lines were actually composed by a six-year old child.
"That's all of that one. I made another one when I digged after theturtle. I will say that. It is a very pretty one," observed the poetwith charming candor; and, taking a long breath, he tuned his littlelyre afresh:
Sweet, sweet days are passing O'er my happy home. Passing on swift wings through the valley of life. Cold are the days when winter comes again. When my sweet days were passing at my happy home, Sweet were the days on the rivulet's green brink; Sweet were the days when I read my father's books; Sweet were the winter days when bright fires are blazing."
"Bless the baby! where did he get all that?" exclaimed Miss Celia,amazed; while the children giggled as Tennyson, Jr., took a bite at theturtle instead of the half-eaten cake, and then, to prevent furthermistakes, crammed the unhappy creature into a diminutive pocket in themost business-like way imaginable.
"It comes out of my head. I make lots of them," began the imperturbableone, yielding more and more to the social influences of the hour.
"Here are the peacocks coming to be fed," interrupted Bab, as thehandsome birds appeared with their splendid plumage glittering in thesun.
Young Barlow rose to admire; but his thirst for knowledge was not yetquenched, and he was about to request a song from Juno and Jupiter, whenold Jack, pining for society, put his head over the garden wall with atremendous bray.
This unexpected sound startled the inquiring stranger half out of hiswits; for a moment the stout legs staggered and the solemn countenancelost its composure, as he whispered, with an astonished air,
"Is that the way peacocks scream?"
The children were in fits of laughter, and Miss Celia could hardly makeherself heard as she answered merrily,--
"No, dear; that is the donkey asking you to come and see him: will yougo?
"I guess I couldn't stop now. Mamma might want me."
And, without another word, the discomfited poet precipitately retired,leaving his cherished sticks behind him.
Ben ran after the child to see that he came to no harm, and presentlyreturned to report that Alfred had been met by a servant, and gone awaychanting a new verse of his poem, in which peacocks, donkeys, and "theflowers of life" were sweetly mingled.
"Now I'll show you my toys, and we'll have a little play before it getstoo late for Thorny to stay with us," said Miss Celia, as Randa carriedaway the tea-things and brought back a large tray full of picture-books,dissected maps, puzzles, games, and several pretty models of animals,the whole crowned with a large doll dressed as a baby.
At sight of that, Betty stretched out her arms to receive it with a cryof delight. Bab seized the games, and Ben was lost in admiration of thelittle Arab chief prancing on the white horse,--all saddled andbridled and fit for the fight. Thorny poked about to find a certaincurious puzzle which he could put together without a mistake after longstudy. Even Sancho found something to interest him; and, standing on hishind-legs, thrust his head between the boys to paw at several red andblue letters on square blocks.
"He looks as if he knew them," said Thorny, amused at the dog's eagerwhine and scratch.
"He does. Spell your name, Sanch;" and Ben put all the gay letters downupon the flags with a chirrup which set the dog's tail to wagging as hewaited till the alphabet was spread before him. Then, with greatdeliberation, he pushed the letters about till he had picked out six;these he arranged with nose and paw till the word "Sancho" lay beforehim correctly spelt.
"Isn't that clever? Can he do any more?" cried Thorny, delighted.
"Lots; that's the way he gets his livin', and mine too," answered Ben;and proudly put his poodle through his well-learned lessons with suchsuccess that even Miss Celia was surprised.
"He has been carefully trained. Do you know how it was done?" sheasked, when Sancho lay down to rest and be caressed by the children.
"No, 'm, father did it when I was a little chap, and never told me how.I used to help teach him to dance, and that was easy enough, he is sosmart. Father said the middle of the night was the best time to give himhis lessons; it was so still then, and nothing disturbed Sanch and madehim forget. I can't do half the tricks, but I'm goin' to learn whenfather comes back. He'd rather have me show off Sanch than ride, tillI'm older."
"I have a charming book about animals, and in it an interesting accountof some trained poodles who could do the most wonderful things. Wouldyou like to hear it while you put your maps and puzzles together?" askedMiss Celia, glad to keep her brother interested in their four-footedguest at least.
"Yes,'m, yes,'m," answered the children; and, fetching the book, sheread the pretty account, shortening and simplifying it here and there tosuit her hearers.
"I invited the two dogs to dine and spend the evening; and they camewith their master, who was a Frenchman. He had been a teacher in a deafand dumb school, and thought he would try the same plan with dogs. Hehad also been a conjurer, and now was supported by Blanche and herdaughter Lyda. These dogs behaved at dinner just like other dogs; butwhen I gave Blanche a bit of cheese and asked if she knew the word forit, her master said she could spell it. So a table was arranged with alamp on it, and round the table were laid the letters of the alphabetpainted on cards. Blanche sat in the middle, waiting till her mastertold her to spell cheese, which she at once did in French, F R O M A GE. Then she translated a word for us very cleverly. Some one wrotepferd, the German for horse, on a slate. Blanche looked at it andpretended to read it, putting by the slate with her paw when she haddone. 'Now give us the French for that word,' said the man; and sheinstantly brought CHEVAL. 'Now, as you are at an Englishman's house,give it to us in English;' and she brought me HORSE. Then we spelt somewords wrong, and she corrected them with wonderful accuracy. But she didnot seem to like it, and whined and growled and looked so worried, thatshe was allowed to go and rest and eat cakes in a corner.
"Then Lyda took her place on the table, and did sums on the slate with aset of figures. Also mental arithmetic, which was very pretty. 'Now,Lyda,' said her master, 'I want to see if you understand division.Suppose you had ten bits of sugar, and you met ten Prussian dogs, howmany lumps would you, a French dog, give to each of the Prussians?' Lydavery decidedly replied to this with a cipher. 'But, suppose you dividedyour sugar with me, how many lumps would you give me?' Lyda took up thefigure five and politely presented it to her master."
"Wasn't she smart? Sanch can't do that," exclaimed Ben, forced to ownthat the French doggie beat his cherished pet.
"He is not too old to learn. Shall I go on?" asked Miss Celia, seeingthat the boys liked it, though Betty was absorbed with the doll, and Babdeep in a puzzle.
"Oh, yes! What else did they do?"
"They played a game of dominoes together, sitting in chairs oppositeeach other, and touched the dominoes that were wanted; but the manplaced them and kept telling how the game went. Lyda was beaten, and hidunder the sofa, evidently feeling very badly about it. Blanche was thensurrounded with playing-cards, while her master held another pack andtold us to choose a card; then he asked her what one had been chosen,and she always took up the right one in her teeth. I was asked to gointo another room, put a light on the floor with cards round it, andleave the doors nearly shut. Then the man begged some one to whisper inthe dog's ear what card she was to bring, and she went at once andfetched it, thus showing that she understood their names. Lyda did manytricks with the numbers, so curious that no dog could possiblyunderstand them; yet what the secret sign was I could not discover, butsuppose it must have been in the tones of the master's voice, for hecertainly made none with either head or hands.
"I
t took an hour a day for eighteen months to educate a dog enough toappear in public, and (as you say, Ben) the night was the best time togive the lessons. Soon after this visit, the master died; and thesewonderful dogs were sold because their mistress did not know how toexhibit them."
"Wouldn't I have liked to see 'em and find out how they were taught!Sanch, you'll have to study up lively, for I'm not going to have youbeaten by French dogs," said Ben, shaking his finger so sternly thatSancho grovelled at his feet and put both paws over his eyes in the mostabject manner.
"Is there a picture of those smart little poodles?" asked Ben, eying thebook, which Miss Celia left open before her.
"Not of them, but of other interesting creatures; also anecdotes abouthorses, which will please you, I know," and she turned the pages forhim, neither guessing how much good Mr. Hamerton's charming "Chapterson Animals" were to do the boy when he needed comfort for a sorrowwhich was very near.