Chapter 10. The Dream

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_ CHAPTER TEN. THE DREAM

Norman walked on by the side of his sister towards the house without speaking. Her heart was too full to say anything more. She found it, indeed, very difficult to forgive her brother from the bottom of her heart, and to love him notwithstanding all he had done.

Norman little thought as he walked by her side how kindly she felt to him. He fancied that she was only thinking about her little dead bird, and mourning for its loss. He was ashamed to look up into her face, as he would have done, had his conscience not accused him--for although he tried to persuade himself that he had not intended actually to kill the bird, yet he well knew that he had harboured the thought day after day, and often as he murmured to himself, "I did not want to kill it," a voice said to him, "Norman, you know that you did want to kill it."

How different was the expression in the countenance of the two children. Although both were handsome, that of Norman showed his irritable discontented disposition. By the time they reached the house Fanny had dried her tears, and hers exhibited the sweet gentle temper which animated her.

As they got near the house they saw Mrs Leslie, who had come out into the garden. Fanny ran forward to meet her, and taking her hand said--

"Dear granny it is all over, Norman is very sorry, so when papa comes this evening, I hope that he may not hear about my poor birdie, and that we shall both look smiling and happy."

"I hope so, my dear, and I am very sure that neither your mamma nor Mrs Maclean will tell him of what has occurred."

"Oh, I shall be so much obliged to them," answered Fanny, "it is what I have been dreading more than anything else, for I never saw Norman look so grieved for anything he has done."

"That is a great step in the right direction, but he has still much to learn, and many faults to correct, and those faults he will not correct unless his heart is changed," answered Mrs Leslie.

"O dear granny, that is what I have been praying it may be," said Fanny, "and you have often told me that God hears prayers even of weak little girls like me."

"Yes, indeed, He does, and I trust that your prayers and mine, and your mamma's, will be answered in His good time. God accomplishes His ends as He judges best; and we must not despair, even if we do not see Norman behave as well as we could wish all at once."

The subject of this conversation had been standing at some distance, with his head cast down, unwilling to approach his grandmamma, for he was afraid that he might receive another scolding, and was beginning to harden his heart to resist it.

"Come here, my dear Norman," said Mrs Leslie. "You know how I love you, for you are my only little grandson, and how anxious I am that you should be good and happy, and prosper in this world. This makes me very glad to hear what Fanny has been telling me, my dear child. We will all pray, that you will be enabled to keep to your good resolutions, but you must also pray for yourself. Then remember, my dear child, that God's eye is upon you, that nothing you can think, or say, or do, is unknown to Him, that He is aware of every thought which enters your mind, that He sees even the most trifling thing you do, and hears every word you utter. He wishes you to be happy, and if you try to obey Him, He will enable you to be so. He is more loving than your papa or mamma, or your sister, or I can be."

Norman listened attentively to all his grandmamma said. He might not clearly have understood every word, but he certainly did her meaning; and as she spoke so kindly and gently to him instead of scolding him, as he thought she would, he thought he would try to do as she wished him.

The children were in their garden dresses; Norman's was much torn from his scramble through the woods. Fanny had on one which her mamma had brought from France, like that of a peasant girl, which was well suited for wandering about the hills and moors.

After they had walked some time with their grandmamma, she desired them to go in and dress, that they might be ready to receive their papa. They were hurrying up to their rooms, when, as they passed the library door, which was open, Fanny caught sight of her little pet's cage still on the floor where she had left it.

"Oh, it must not remain there! what shall we do with it?" she said, as she went in followed by Norman.

The sight of the empty cage was more than she could bear. She took it up, and, looking at it for a moment, burst into tears. For some time she stood with her arm resting on the table, supporting her head in her hand.

"I did not think I should feel so much for poor, dear, little Pecksy," she said, trying to restrain her tears.

Norman stood by crying also. He could now sympathise with his sweet sister; but a short time before he would have been inclined to laugh at her tears, and "I did it; I did it," he said to himself. "Oh, how cruel I was; I wish Mr Maclean had come at once, and heard all about it and beat me, I am sure I deserve it; and the little bird, instead of singing merrily in the cage, now lies in the black earth all by itself. Oh, what a cruel, naughty boy I have been!" Such thoughts passed through the mind of Norman though he did not speak them aloud. He rubbed his eyes with the back of his hands, and looked up sorrowfully at his sister.

At last Fanny recovered herself.

"I will carry the cage to granny," she said; "she will take care of it till we can return it to old Alec, for I could never bear to see another little bird in it."

Fanny felt this at the moment, but, probably, she would in time have thought differently.

She took the cage to her grandmamma's room.

Norman stood outside while she went in.

Mrs Leslie promised to do what she wished, and she then went and assisted Norman to dress. He made no resistance now, but let her wash his face and hands as thoroughly as she thought necessary; and he went and got his things and put them on himself, giving her as little trouble as possible.

Fanny was rapid in all her movements, and never dawdled over her toilet, so that she was quickly ready.

Norman on going into the hall met the laird, who had just come back from a long day's fishing excursion, with a basketful of fine trout.

"Well, my laddie, I wish you had gone with me, for you would have seen some good sport," he observed. "I was sorry that you did not keep to your promise."

"I will behave properly another time," answered Norman; "I know I was obstinate and naughty for not doing as you wished."

"Well, laddie, I am glad to hear you say that, and I hope we shall have many a day's fishing together," was the answer.

"Thank you, Mr Maclean," said Norman. "I want to try and do as I am told. If you had taken me with you I should not have killed Fanny's poor little bird."

"What do you mean?" asked the laird.

Then Norman told him all that had occurred, adding--

"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. _

Read next: Chapter 11. The Picnic

Read previous: Chapter 9. Sorrow Is Not Repentance

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