Tales of the Toys, Told by Themselves — Reading Notes

CHAPTER I. INTRODUCTORY.--THE TURNING OUT OF THE TOY CUPBOARD 1

CHAPTER II. THE HISTORY OF THE BALL; WITH THE STORY OF THE POOR WIDOW WHO MADE IT 19

CHAPTER III. THE HOOP'S ROUND OF ADVENTURES 33

CHAPTER IV. THE FATE OF THE LEADEN TEA-THINGS 47

CHAPTER V. THE MAKING OF THE KITE BY THE HOME CIRCLE 64

CHAPTER VI. THE DOLL AND ALL HER MISTRESSES 79

CHAPTER VII. THE TOY KITCHEN; AND ITS MAKER 98

CHAPTER VIII. THE FATE OF THE SHUTTLECOCK 113

CHAPTER IX. WHAT BECAME OF NOAH'S ARK AND ALL ITS BEASTS 129

CHAPTER X. THE MARBLES AND THEIR PROCEEDINGS 142

CHAPTER XI. WHY THE ROCKING HORSE RAN AWAY 159

CHAPTER XII. THE MISHAP OF THE SKIPPING-ROPE 176

CHAPTER XIII. THE HUMMING TOP'S HISTORY 194

CHAPTER XIV. THE INTERRUPTION AND CONCLUSION 210

CHAPTER I.--INTRODUCTORY.

THE TURNING OUT OF THE TOY CUPBOARD.

"Hurrah! We are going to have such a jolly holiday!" shouted Frank, suddenly bursting out of his imprisonment in the slate closet, to the great disturbance of his sisters, who were peaceably occupied with their lessons.

"Frank," said Miss Watson, "I must really at last report you to your Papa. I do not like to trouble him if I can help it, but I am afraid you will oblige me to do so. I desired you not to leave the book closet until you had made up your mind to sit straight on your chair, and go through the multiplication table properly."

"We're to go to Sandbay for a month!" shouted Frank, capering about and clapping his hands.

"To Sandbay, Frank! oh, how charming!" cried Celia and Florry, with one voice.

"We shall be able to collect so many shells, and perhaps to get some anemones!" said Celia.

"I shall make such gardens and ovens in the sand!" cried Florry, opening her blue eyes as wide as possible. "I wonder what has become of my spade?"

"I'll leave Pa no peace till he takes me out for a sail," said Frank, whose antics had not yet subsided.

"I think you have all gone suddenly mad!" said Miss Watson. "Celia, I am surprised at _you_! I have ceased to hope for quiet manners from Frank, and Florry is so little, she scarcely knows better; but your giddiness is not usual."

"I beg your pardon, Miss Watson," replied Celia, demurely; "only it was so nice to think of going to the Sea."

"But I don't understand the matter now," said poor Miss Watson, looking very mystified; "you knew nothing about this at breakfast, Frank, and how your companionship with the books and slates in the cupboard has enlightened you now, I don't know, nor can I give even a remote guess!"

"Why, the store cupboard in the dining room is next to the book closet," replied Frank, eagerly, "and just now, when I had got my hand on the lock of the door to come out and tell you I had had enough of solitary imprisoning, I heard Mamma come into the store cupboard (for some jam, I daresay!) and she said out loud to somebody, 'I mean to take the children for a month to Sandbay this summer!' That's what made me rush out to tell the girls the good news!"

"Well, Frank, I never believed you guilty of the meanness of listening before," said Miss Watson, rather severely.

"I didn't listen," said Frank, rather sulkily.

"You can hear very plainly in the book closet, Miss Watson," said Celia. "When I have put away the books sometimes, I have heard Ellen laying the luncheon in the dining room from the store cupboard door being left open. I am sure we should not listen on purpose, and I don't think Frank could help hearing it, if Mamma spoke distinctly."

"It's very nice of you, Celia, to be always so ready to excuse your brother," said Miss Watson, "and I _do_ believe Frank above such mean, dishonest habits as that; and so I suppose I must overlook his boisterous conduct this once, as the news he heard by accident seems so exciting to you all."

"Oh, Miss Watson, don't you like the sea too?" enquired little Florry; "it's so nice to stand on a heap of sand and let the waves come round you."

"Well, Florry," replied Miss Watson, smiling, "there are many more pleasant things at the seaside than getting your feet wet through; but I suppose _you_ like letting the waves chase you!"

"Then there is the bathing," said Celia, delightedly; "I do so love a dip in the cool, green salt water, and the dancing about in it, and waiting for a great wave to come over one!"

"Girls ought to learn to swim!" said Frank, very sententiously. "Suppose a big wave carried you out of your depth, and no one was near to fetch you out again but the old Molly of a bathing woman!"

"I have not the least doubt in the world," said Miss Watson, "that you will all enjoy your trip to Sandbay very much. But I think people should _earn_ their holiday before they have it, or even waste much time beforehand in planning how to spend it. We shall get no lessons at all this morning if we are to be hindered like this, and the consequence will be, Frank, that as so often is the case, you will spend your playtime in going over them again."

"Suppose we all settle down steadily," suggested sensible Celia, "and put the thoughts of the sea out of our minds till we have done. Look, Miss Watson, it only wants a quarter to one, and we have finished all but our copies!"

"There's the 'vexation' to be got through first, by me at any rate," said Frank, with a rueful air. "I wish the man who invented it had all the 'three times' from one to twelve printed on him with a cat-o'-nine tails, every time a fellow is forced to go through it!"

"When you are a rich old merchant in the City, Frank," replied Miss Watson, smiling, "you will find the 'vexation' a pleasure, as you add up your pounds and shillings, or calculate the value of your cargoes!"

"I wonder if Sir Walter Raleigh bothered his head with all this rubbish," growled Frank. "I daresay he counted up his ingots on his fingers. Such a leader as he was never wasted his time and trouble on the bothering old multiplication tables, _I_ know."

"Raleigh was a scholar and a poet too, Frank," replied Miss Watson; "you could hardly have chosen a worse example of your theory. He was an Oriel College man, and wrote a history of the world during his captivity in the Tower. He employed his imprisonment better than you have done, you see!"

"I have finished my copy, Miss Watson," said Celia, "may I go now, please? I have nothing more to do until the afternoon."

"Yes, Celia; but, Florry, how carelessly you have written yours! I am afraid the thoughts of going to the sea have bewildered your little head so, that your fingers have travelled along without any guidance, like runaway horses with the coachman fast asleep!"

Florry blushed and hung her head over the ill-written book, and was silent, for she knew that she had been thinking more of the pleasure before her, and musing where her wooden spade could be, than of her lessons; I am afraid that morning set a mark of "Careless!" in both Frank's and her score. However, school time ended at last, and off with a shout went Frank to hear all about the plans from Celia, for he had no doubt she had been talking the matter over with Mamma. Miss Watson was putting on her bonnet and mantle in order to return home for the usual weekly half holiday, when Mrs. Spenser entered the room.

"I find, Miss Watson," said she, smiling, "that Frank's long ears have managed to catch what Mr. Spenser and I have been arranging for the summer holidays. The house is so very dirty and worn now, after our long residence in it, that we find it will be best to set about a thorough course of paint, paper, and whitewash, so that I have resolved to give the children a month at Sandbay during these holidays, which will do them all a great deal of good, I think."

"I hope it will, indeed," replied Miss Watson; "and I am sure you will find it more agreeable to leave the house in possession of the workmen; all painting and papering is so unpleasant to endure."

"Yes, indeed," said Mrs. Spenser, "I have a great horror of the whole operation; and, besides, Mr. Spenser thinks it will be more thoroughly done, if everything is packed away, and we are all out of the house. It will be very pleasant to be away from the heat of town, and with plenty of sea breezes to freshen up the children. Celia, I think, is looking rather delicate."

"A little sea wind, and a few rambles on the shore, will soon bring back her rosy cheeks," replied Miss Watson, shaking hands with Mrs. Spenser, as she took her leave. "I hope you will all be very much the better for the change."

For the rest of the next week--the last but one before the holidays began--Binswood Villa was a scene of endless bustle and confusion. The children enjoyed it all immensely, and rejoiced secretly at the little interruptions to the usual routine of their daily lessons, which were now taken in "pic-nic fashion," as Celia declared. For after the dining-room was cleared of its furniture, the schoolroom was obliged to be used for luncheon and dinner. And at last, joy of joys, the schoolroom itself had to be partially given up, and the weather being very warm and dry, the last few days' school was held in the arbour in the garden. The children enjoyed the remove greatly; but Frank declared that it was a sore trial to Miss Watson, for she had earwigs up her sleeve and snails on her gown!

"I am too fond of a garden, Frank, to mind even these mishaps," said Miss Watson, laughing; "and as they have not yet fallen to my share, I won't fear them beforehand. I think all the garden inhabitants recognise _you_ for their lawful prey, for I can see a little money-spinner spider making a tour of your collar now!"

Then there was all the packing to be done. Mamma very wisely got over her share of the business during the quiet hours when the young folks were at school, and, therefore, managed to get everything stowed away in tolerable order. And she found out the wisdom of her plan soon enough, for the confusion and trouble that reigned during the three days' holiday before they left, nearly drove poor Nurse out of her senses. But at last even all these worries were happily got over, and Celia's treasures safely put away, Frank's bat and ball and cricket-shoes hunted up, and Florry's missing wooden spade found behind the clock-case.

Mrs. Spenser and the Nurse had the worst part of the business even now, in arranging and packing all the frocks and pinafores, socks and jackets in small compass for their long visit. Young folks are very apt not to think of all these things, and seem to imagine that hats and caps, gloves and shoes grow on the bushes, and are produced by rain and sunshine, like the garments of the flowers! Most mothers and nurses could tell a very different tale; and could, if they pleased, prove, that if little girls were as idly managed as the doll family are, life would not be so easy or quite so pleasant, to the juveniles at least.

At last the happy day of the journey arrived, and the Spensers, with all their luggage, were safely crammed into a couple of cabs, and borne off to the railway station on their way to Sandbay. Little Florry persisted in carrying her precious wooden spade, for fear it should be left behind, a proceeding that resulted in its being left in the refreshment-room at Hembery station, and only regained at the risk of Frank's being left behind; and it was finally forgotten in the carriage when they changed at Dawlish junction, its little tired owner being carried fast asleep in Nurse's arms. And so before Papa left them all comfortably settled in their airy lodgings at Sandbay, he was obliged to take his tearful little girl to the one toy-shop and buy her a new one.

"Which you gained by, Florry," remarked Frank; "for Pa gave you a bucket into the bargain; so now you can make ovens enough to bake all the rolls in Sandbay!"

And then, like a good-natured brother as he was, he printed Florry's name in great capital letters on her spade, with the name of the house they lived in, so that when she left it behind on the sands, there was a chance of its being brought back again. And Celia and her mother rambled about by the edge of the sea, and collected shells and sea-weed, or took long walks through the pretty country round Sandbay, till the rosy cheeks Miss Watson prophesied became quite Celia's usual look.

Meanwhile, Mr. Spenser having seen the little colony comfortably established, returned back to town, for he was going to stay with a sister who lived near his own house, in order to keep an occasional watch over the workmen. And so the town villa, which a few hours before had been the scene of such confusion and bustle,--such noisy voices and pattering feet,--was left empty to the echoes and the dust which now had time to settle peaceably over the bare boards and dingy windows. An old charwoman had the charge of it, and was to sleep in the kitchen; but as the workmen were not to come till the day after, she contented herself with merely sweeping down the house in the afternoon, ready for the whitewashers next day; and then, locking all up safe, with old Growler, the dog, inside, she set off, after an early cup of tea, to get in her provisions for the next day.

It was, indeed, a change! The bed-rooms had lost their nice white little beds and curtains; the drawing-room was a dusty desert, with no piano and no work-tables; while the kitchen yawned like a gloomy cavern, stripped of its bright tins and cheerful dishes. And the dusky shades of evening fell and wrapped it in still darker shadows, while the distant roar and din of the streets seemed to sound quite far off. So then the crickets, who felt sure something unusual must be the matter, chirped, and made enquiries of each other, in the most noisy manner; while the mice, quite enraptured with the quiet and vacancy, came out and had regular pic-nic parties all over the house.

The furniture and packages had all been stowed away in one large room at the top of the house, which had then been securely locked and fastened. But one nook had been neglected in the midst of all the bustle. Busy as she had been with preparing the summer clothes, putting away all the winter ones, and setting aside all in her own particular domain, Nurse had utterly overlooked the old toy cupboard! It is true it was now seldom used; for even Florry cared little for the broken and discarded toys it contained, and so it was not to be wondered at that the old store of rubbish had not been remembered. Some officious person had unlatched the door and left it ajar, and a good blast of wind in the afternoon, when old Mrs. Davis set the window open first, had pushed it quite back, though she had not observed the fact when she closed the nursery windows before she left. On the floor lay a heap of old leaden tea-things, mixed up with some of the inhabitants of a battered Noah's Ark which lay empty on its side on the top shelf. Several old marbles were nestled cosily up in an old toy kitchen which had been turned upside down to receive them. A humming-top, whose key had departed, lay side by side with a shuttlecock that had been shorn of half its feathers. The skipping-rope had become hopelessly entangled with the tail of the kite; the hoop had hung itself round the neck of a very ancient rocking-horse, whose mane and tail had long disappeared; to add to its misfortunes the poor animal now lacked the whole of one leg, and part of another, and being past mending, it had not seen daylight for a long while. A doll, with one arm, and whose bland, faded face had lost all expression with her missing eyes, presided in a solemn manner over the whole. The shelf above was empty, with one exception, for on it lay a very large ball, made of leather in many pieces, carefully joined together. Why it had been placed in the old toy cupboard was a mystery, for it seemed nearly new from the brightness of its colours and the full roundness of its form. That it was gifted with more strength and vitality than its companions was evident enough, for it gave a violent roll on the shelf, and then bounded suddenly down into the midst of its companions.

"And so _we've_ got a holiday at last," said the Ball, with a lively frisk as he spoke.

"Oh! don't be so rough," faintly shrieked the Doll; "you have almost taken away all the little breath I had left!"

"I'll fan you with the greatest pleasure!" said the Kite, eagerly, "or at least, I'll try to do so, for I have stood here so long, that I am quite stiff, but I'll do my best!"

And so he vigorously flapped backwards and forwards, till all the dust was set in motion that had rested quiet so long. So that at last, the Rocking-horse even was roused from his long slumber, and hobbled out of the corner on his lame legs.

"How very pleasant!" exclaimed the Ball, hopping about with the greatest agility; "I declare it is quite worth while living in retirement for a while, if only to enjoy life once more when we come back to it again. How's the Doll now?" enquired he, politely, bounding towards her.

"Better I hope," puffed the Kite; "but you know this cupboard has been stifling for a long while, and so now the first breeze of fresh air is almost too much for us all."

"Speak for yourself," snapped the Shuttlecock, very peevishly; "you have fanned out my last feather, and what I'm to do now I can't think; I'm nothing but cork and leather!"

"We are none of us much to be boasted of," remarked the old leaden Teapot; "I'm sure I have been battered and dinted till I've no shape left. But one gets used in time to being trodden on."

"Yes, indeed, and to get one's horns and legs snapped off," chimed in an eager lilac wooden Cow, who certainly had lost most of her members, "over and above parting with your relations. My twin brother was destroyed ages ago, and so was the scarlet cat's, and there's not even one elephant left in the ark, nor a camel, nor a canary, nor a ladybird, nor a bear."

"Oh! never mind your elephants and ladybirds," interrupted the Ball, irreverently; "we shall waste all our time in this arguing and quarrelling!"

"It's easy for you to talk, young man," remarked the Shuttlecock, sarcastically; "_you_ have never been into the battle of life, or lost all your feathers."

"This is very stupid work," said the Skipping-rope, coiling about and trying to disentangle herself from the Kite, a proceeding that resulted in one of her handles coming off, and the Kite being shorn of the tassel at the end of his tail.

"Well, what _are_ we to do with ourselves," asked the Rocking-Horse, "we are not all of us quite so lively as you, my friend Ball. To us a holiday conveys the idea of _rest_, not restlessness."

"Then I should think holidays were superfluous things to you!" muttered the Ball, as he took an extra roll out into the room; "but what are we to do, then?"