Tales of the Toys, Told by Themselves Part 9

"But this time it was a more serious case, and I lay uncared for, while Charlie scrambled hastily up, and, like a brave boy, looked first after his poor little playmate. She was more hurt than either, and lay moaning piteously, till Charlie ran in a fright and fetched his mother. When the doctor came, as he did pretty quickly, he said poor Julia's little fat arm was broken, and she could not be removed, even home. Oh, what a sad time that was; the whole household seemed to watch night and day over the little patient sufferer, and poor Charlie roamed about in a miserable and distracted way that was quite sad to see. She was delirious and in some danger for a time; and while it lasted Charlie came and sat by me and told me all his sorrow in the most disconsolate way in the world.

"'You've broken _your_ leg, gallant grey,' he said to me; 'but then the carpenter can mend that with no great ado, and _I've_ sprained my ancle, but that's nothing, for it does not hurt much, and I can easily bear that; but I wish we had both broken all our legs, before dear little Julia had been hurt. I'm afraid I shall never be a good knight now!'

"And then he laid his head on his knees, and actually cried bitterly.

But all turned out better in the end, for the doctor cured Julia, and when the patient little girl grew better, all her care was to comfort Charlie, and she left her own mother (who had come to nurse her), no peace until she had formally forgiven Charlie. But poor contrite Charlie could not so readily forgive himself, and as a proof of his real wish to cure himself of his careless habits, he gave me away to Philip Reeves, an old friend of his, taking tender care to have me effectually mended up, and bidding me a most affectionate farewell. I did not like my new home very much, for though I had carried double before, little Julia was a mere feather weight, and Charlie rode very lightly; but the Reeves's children mounted me two and three at a time played rude, practical jokes and treated me with all sorts of indignities. Once the little wretches actually set Tom on me with his face to my tail, and then called me a donkey, and shouted out, 'Gee up, Neddy!' And as for falls, we were always tumbling about,--my entire occupation was tumbling about. They dragged off all my pretty harness in tatters, by way of hauling me up again, and then replaced it with a horrid lot of common rope. As for my tail, oh, that was too bad! That abominable little Annie, the baby, got hold of me after one of my falls, and by the help of nurse's scissors, which had been dropped just by, she managed to shear all the hair off close to the stump, and disfigured me for life. Then another of my legs was broken, past mending. And so I lost all my good looks by degrees. To finish my troubles, the two younger boys took it into their heads that I wanted rubbing down, and they set to work with a vengeance, with the help of the nursery bath and a hard hair brush, and by the time they were found out, the nursery was swimming, and my poor complexion gone for ever!

"No one could stand that, and patience won't last for ever, so you cannot be surprised at my running away, and I think I managed my escape pretty luckily. One Sat.u.r.day night, when the workwoman was there, her son came to fetch her home, and she somehow smuggled him into the empty nursery to wait until she was ready to go home with him. The children had all been put in their bath, and packed off early to bed, and Susan, the nursemaid, had run downstairs for a few minutes' gossip in the kitchen. Bob, the boy, began to eye me with great attention, and at last he drew near and began to play with me. His mother went to put on her bonnet and shawl, and Bob seized the opportunity.

"'You be a tidy pony!' said he, 'will you go along with me?'

"As I made no objection, and indeed was glad to go, he whipped me up in his arms, ran down the back stairs and off with me like a shot. I was in a dreadful fright for fear we should be found out, I can tell you, for there was a wretched small woolly toy-dog, an old enemy of mine, and the little horror barked with all his might, and tried to give the alarm.

But luckily for me, little Annie had that day poked a pin through the kid over his sound-hole, and so he had almost lost his voice, and was not heard at all. When I came to reflect on the matter calmly, I must own it _was_ rather an undignified method of running away, but I was too anxious at the time to escape, and did not think much about it. Bob hurried down some back lanes and byeways till he reached his own door, and then he rushed in, and running upstairs, hid me under his bed. He was up in the morning long before his mother, and got me out into the back-yard, hiding me behind the old water-b.u.t.t. Bob's mother happened to be that week very busy, and away every day, so that he easily kept me out of the way. There was a nice hue and cry at the Reeves's when the children found out I had vanished, and Bob's mother came home each day, giving him a full history of the loss, little suspecting he was concerned in it.

"But evil deeds seldom meet with thorough success, and so Bob found out, for a playfellow of his, it seems, had watched enough of his proceedings to find out that all was not right, and one day he attacked him on the subject. Bob was in a terrible fright, and at last made up his mind to take me back to the Reeves's again, hoping to smuggle me in after the same fas.h.i.+on he had brought me away. I was not much improved, as you may fancy, after being stabled so long behind that dirty tarred barrel.

Indeed, I think the Reeves's children might almost have met me without recognising me. But they were not destined to be put to the trial, for just as Bob got near to the door, out sallied a whole tribe of the young ones, bound for a late walk. Bob beat a precipitate retreat, and pitched me headlong into a big laurel hedge, near the gate. As it proved afterwards, the children had not seen me, and so there I lay all night, when a drenching rain came down, and washed off all the paint I had left. I was now a poor wreck of a thing, and did not look as if I was of any value, and I was so out of heart and miserable, that I did not care what became of me. So when I was picked out of the hedge by Bill Soames, and carried to his cottage-home as a precious treasure, I was resigned to my fate. Horses, said I to myself, are peculiarly liable to these ups and downs of life, for, as we all know, the spirited racer that wins the Challenge Cup, may end his days harnessed to a cart. And so why should I lament my fate! I dare say, Bill Soames will be kind to me, and he looks as if he could ride. And so he could too, and many a prance we had on the brick floor of that old cottage, for in spite of my lame legs and docked tail, there was a little life and spirit left still in the poor old nag. And through all my life, I have been _very_ lucky in one thing, my foundations were good! Let what would happen to my legs or tail, at any rate, my rockers never came off! So I could get on pretty fairly even now, and Bill was as proud of me as if I had been a real flesh and blood steed.

"Many and many a box on the ears did he get from his mother, for picking her lilac or her roses to stick in my ears; and the day when she gave him some old sc.r.a.ps of dirty ribbon was a joyous day for him. The only pity was that his wish to adorn me to the best advantage led him in a weak moment to accept the proposal of George Hall, the little painter, who offered to make me as good as new! I can't bear to think of it, much less describe _that_ operation, and you may take my word for it I should have run away again, if I had not been tied up to the leg of the great wooden table. Bill remarked that he had seen the farrier singe and clip horses, and he always took good care to tie them up tight first. And so there I was at their mercy, and I came out of their hands such a figure, that I only wonder the nervous old cat, who lived there too, did not have a fit at the first sight of me. I had been painted black, with great white spots, just like big white wafers plentifully besprinkled all over me; and they had picked out my eyes and nose with such bright red borders, that it looked as if I breathed fire and flame, and I should have made a capital steed for the Fire-King in the pantomime.

Bill was so delighted with me, that when I was dry and fit to be touched, he took more pains and care of me than ever. He stabled me in a corner, always offered me a share of his supper (but, as you may suppose, I don't eat bread and cheese), and covered me over from the dust with the counterpane of his own bed.

"So I was obliged to make the best of it, and bear my terrible disfigurement as well as I could, for the sake of the good, warm-hearted lad, who loved me so very dearly. And at last I got used to my new colour, and even the atrocious spots, for everybody round was always admiring me, and praising my beauty; and I began to think I was not so very bad after all, till one day, when the memory of all my reverses and troubles seemed to come back over me like a thunderbolt. I was standing out on the little green s.p.a.ce before the cottage, in the sun, as I often did, for Bill was very fond of mounting and riding in the sight of all pa.s.sers by. There was a low green quickset hedge dividing the cottage garden from the road, and a open wooden gate. I heard a voice say, 'I'll be shot if that ain't the very likeness of him. If he were only of a dirty white, and hadn't no spots, I'd say for certain it were he.

There's a lump in his hind leg looks uncommon like the jine where he were broken!'

"Just at this moment, George Hall and Bill came out of the cottage door, and the speaker shuffled off rather fast, but not until I had managed to catch a glimpse of him, and had recognised my old friend Bob, with whom I had first eloped. And the very next day, when I was out as usual, who should come by but "Bonnie Prince Charlie," hand in hand with little Julia. I declare the few hairs of my mane and tail fairly stiffened at the sight of them, and I longed to be able to trot out like a fairy horse and ask them to get on my back, and let me carry them off to some delightful island, and make them a real prince and princess! Dear little Julia, she had not quite got back her nice rosy fat cheeks, but her eyes were as bright, and her merry voice as sweet as ever, as she prattled merrily to Charlie, who watched over her in the most careful way, guarding the poor lame arm quite jealously from harm. I heard them before I saw them, and knew their dear voices, bless them! in a moment.

"'You shall have a carriage and pair, Judy, at least,' said Charlie, 'and a gentle mare for riding on, with a long tail and flowing mane. And you will be able to plait them up with ribbons, as Camilla did, you know, for Black Auster.'

"'I would rather have a little Shetland pony,' said Julia, 'I'm _so_ afraid of big horses, Charlie!'

"'Why a pony is the most dangerous of all, Julia,' replied Charley with a learned air; 'it is so much more frisky, and apt to run away. But we'll take care to have one that's warranted to carry a lady.'

"'But I'm not a real grown-up lady yet, am I?' said the innocent little girl, turning her blue wondering eyes full on Charlie, who she evidently thought the most wonderful hero in the world. Charlie laughed, and pulled her curls, and said he hoped _he_ should be able to take better care of her when he was bigger, 'better than I _have_ done, Ju,' he added, somewhat dolefully; 'I shall not forget that spill with Gallant Grey in a hurry. What a jolly horse he was too, and how delighted I was when Papa let me choose him at that lovely shop in London, where they sell nothing but horses, and a little girl sits and rocks on one in the window, you know. Poor old Gallant Grey, I wonder how he's getting on, and whether Phil Reeves has had as many spills as I have. But halloa, Ju, here's a queer thing! why, if there is not a rocking-horse in that little garden!'

"As Bonnie Prince Charlie and his little princess stood hand-in-hand at the gate and peeped at me with surprise through the rails, I could have eaten my head with vexation to think I could not even neigh a "how d'ye do?" to them.

"'My eyes,' said Charlie, as he slowly turned away, 'what an old nag _that_ is! not a bad made animal, but what a colour, and what spots!

What can he be? Perhaps they're going to have Guy Faux on horseback, and are getting ready the steed!'

"And off went Charlie and Julia, and I could hear their merry voices ringing with laughter, for a long way down the lane. If it had only been in my nature to cry, I should have shed red hot tears of vexation, enough to burn up the little gra.s.s plat I stood on. I never saw Charlie and Julia again, and lived for a long while a sort of humdrum existence with Bill Soames. But life seemed very flat after that sad mortification, and I never went on the little gra.s.s plat again without remembering it. And time pa.s.sed on, and when Bill grew bigger and went out to work, he gave me away to another chum, who was a horrid sailor boy, and had no more notion of riding than a teaspoon. He soon grew tired of me, and pa.s.sed me on to some one else. And so have I served many masters, and have in my time been kept in some very queer stables.

But I never cared for any of my subsequent owners so much as I did for Charlie, and Bill Soames, for they were all dull, uninteresting boys, who treated me as a mere toy, and cared less for me than a top or a kite.

"When I came to Harry Spenser, however, I began to think I was going to have a sort of second life, and be happy once more. The first thing that made me take to him was that he saved up his pocket money till he could afford to have me re-painted. I was now a bright bay, with a white star on my forehead, and though I bore a good many marks of ill usage and former accidents, and both my knees were broken, still at a distance I looked pretty well. Harry's little brother, Frank, thought me perfection, and christened me "Bay Middleton," and had many a pleasant ride on me. But Harry was just in all the delight of the perusal of the Arabian nights, and could think of nothing but the Enchanted Horse, and he played at being Prince Firouz Schah, till I was quite tired of it. He drove two huge nails in my neck to serve for the two pegs that he was to turn, the one to raise him up among the clouds like a bird, and the other to lower him to earth once more. The latter peg is still here, as you may see, behind my ear, but they never performed that feat with me, for Harry was not magician enough to endow me with flying powers. He tried very hard to get Celia to play the part of the Princess of Bengal, but though she was very willing and obliging, and tried to do what he wished, she was too big to ride behind him, and he did not think her quite majestic enough for the part. At last, when Harry went off to Eton, I was put away here, and though for a time I indulged in a faint hope that he might look for me on his return for the holidays, I was disappointed, and even Frank has never looked for me since. And so now, my friends, I have given you a history of all that has befallen me, including the famous episode of my running away."

The Toys, who had been much amused by the relation of the Rocking Horse, more particularly by the grave manner in which he spoke, to which his very rackety and dilapidated appearance lent a ludicrous effort, now thanked him very heartily for his story, and proceeded to call on the Skipping-rope for the next story.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

[Ill.u.s.tration]

CHAPTER XII.

THE MISHAP OF THE SKIPPING-ROPE.

"Story," said the Skipping-rope, "to be sure you shall have it, and a very queer one it is, quite the oddest of the lot, I rather think. But I shall be very happy to begin it at once, if the Kite will be so good as to disentangle his tail."

"Pshaw," growled the Kite, "why, I was obliged to tell mine while you were tugging at me all the while. Two or three times, when I had something very particular to say, you pulled my tail, suddenly, and I lost the thread of my discourse. So t.i.t for tat, my friend, do you unwind your yarn, and I won't serve you any worse than you did me."

The Skipping-rope, finding she could not gain her point, gave herself a spiteful wriggle, which nearly tore off the grand ta.s.sel at the end of the Kite's tail, and set off full gallop in her recital, leaving him no breathing time to complain:--

"I began life," said she, "as a mere length of rope, although I only form now a small portion of the coil to which I belonged. I was the property of a poor fisherman, who lived in a hut belonging to a cl.u.s.ter of storm-beaten cots, called by great courtesy, the 'village' of Rocksand, in Devons.h.i.+re. All the people who lived there were very poor, and gained a precarious living by fis.h.i.+ng, while their wives occupied the spare time left after "keeping house, and minding the childer," by cultivating the very small bits of garden ground that belonged to them, and which were situated on the top of a very lofty cliff, some height above the nestling cottages which were huddled under its shelter on the sh.o.r.e, not so very far above the high tide line. Indeed, in stormy weather, the rough seas which churned up the restless pebbles on the beach, sent their waves in very adverse weather, and during winds that set dead in sh.o.r.e, into somewhat disagreeable nearness to the doorsteps!

And as for the spray, well! in storms it put out the fires, by falling down the low wide chimneys, but in ordinary weather people never minded it.

"As for the children, they were like little ducklings, and directly they were big they took to the water like young Newfoundland puppies; and while they were too small for that, they played in it, and made "sand pies," for there was no mud there, and became dirty and draggled, and therefore happy to their heart's content. And a rare hardy, ruddy set they were, living on the very scantiest and coa.r.s.est fare, and thriving on the salt fresh breezes, like young giants, as they were. My owner was a tall, strong young man, who supported his wife and two little ones by his own incessant hard work. He was a capital climber too, and was very fond of scrambling about the face of the cliff in almost inaccessible places for birds' nests and eggs, of which he had quite a large collection. He used to blow and preserve the eggs, replace them in their pretty and curious nests, and then offer them for sale in the neighbouring town. He also collected the samphire growing on the rocky ma.s.ses that jutted out into the sea, and for which his wife found a ready sale in the town market. They were frugal, hard-working people, but they often found it very difficult to provide food and clothing for their little ones, and to keep the boat and nets in good repair. I am proud to say I was a very useful member of the family, and was wanted everywhere. During the intervals of time, when my services were not required in the boat, I did duty as a clothes line, which rather grated against my dignity, for I fancied it was not the sort of work I ought to be set to do. However, I consoled myself with the reflection that I had nothing to do with common clothes props or garden walls, for I was generally stretched out on the beach, in a sheltered nook behind the cottage. One end was tied fast to an old mast that now bore a weatherc.o.c.k, and the other was fastened to a ring in a piece of rock, near by. So I was patiently contented to hold up all the family wardrobe to dry, for it was not a very large one, and I knew every time exactly what I should have to carry. And the sea winds were very obliging, and dried all the clothes so fast, that my patience was not much tested.

"I tethered the little boat to her landing-place close by, and many a time has Mary been only too glad to lay hold of me, when her husband threw me ash.o.r.e, after a long night's buffeting with the winds and waves. Even little Robin came behind her and gave fierce tugs at me, to "draw daddie home again!" Once I saved his father's life, so precious to all that little family, for he would have been sorely missed, while there were so many young mouths to feed. It so happened on the day I mean, that he had taken me out with him, not a usual thing unless it threatened stormy weather. But that morning, when he set out early, the sky was as blue and cloudless as on a bright summer's day, and there was hardly a puff of wind going. He put up his little sail, but it flapped almost lazily against the mast, and he and his "mate," as he called the old boatman (who was a sort of second partner in the boat and fis.h.i.+ng gear), had to take to their oars and row to the fis.h.i.+ng stakes and nets.

They had taken a good stock of fish, and were thinking of getting back with the tide, when a sudden squall arose, beginning with "the little black cloud, as big as a man's hand," and ending in a fierce wind, that soon lashed the sea up into big mountains of waves. The fisherman, while prudently watching and carefully managing his sail, had stood on the seat of the boat, but a sudden gust coming as the wind chopped round to another point, he stepped hastily on the side, his foot slipped on the wet edge, and he overbalanced and fell into the raging waves. The old boatman, who was used to mishaps at sea, dropped the tiller, and rushed to his mate's a.s.sistance, and when he came to the surface threw an end of my rope to him. By the help of this and the oar, he managed with some difficulty, and after he had swam some time alongside, by my help to drag him on board again, though with no small danger of upsetting the frail skiff. They were some time in getting back, for the poor fellow was rather exhausted by his ducking and long swim in the water, and could not pull the oar with his usual skill. After that feat, I was still more valued, and invariably taken out in the boat in case of future accidents.

"And now the summer came on, and with it the busiest time of the women of Rocksand, for most of them were hard at work early and late in their little patches of garden ground. The fishermen generally left all these matters to their wives, but my master was an industrious young man, and was not particular what he turned his hand to, so that he might often have been seen in the potato ground, hoeing and weeding, while his mates were lying on the sh.o.r.e watching the weather or smoking their pipes at the cottage doors. Just now, the crop of potatoes was being dug, and so John Pike and his wife were hard at work on their ridges. It was a long trudge from the village, and the weather was hot, so Mary had brought both her children with her. The youngest, about two years old, she had laid on an old shawl under the hedge, and there he sat propped up, and mighty busy over a basket of sh.e.l.ls she had brought up for him to play with. The elder boy, about five, was trotting about very soberly, so that they did not watch him perhaps as keenly as they ought, and so he scrambled through a hole in the fence to the next field, and somehow managed to tumble into the old well there. The fright of his parents on hearing his shrieks may be imagined but not described, and they both rushed to the direction the sound came from. John soon saw what was the matter, and running back, s.n.a.t.c.hed me hastily up, and ran to the side of the well. It was luckily an old one, long unused, and in consequence of the dry weather had but little water. It took John very few seconds to throw one end of me hastily but tightly round a tree close by, and let himself down. He got hold of the little fellow, and climbed out again with my help, laying him on the gra.s.s, when he got him out. For a long time they thought the child was dead; but they carried him home, and very luckily met the village doctor on their way, by whose skill, after long, long persevering efforts he was brought slowly to life. But for many a month after that he was ill from the combined effects of the shock, the bad air, the fright, and the water. Indeed, as the doctor said, he must have spent a cat's nine lives in getting through it at all.

"It was a sad trial for poor John and his wife, although they bore it patiently enough, only thankful that their Robin was spared to them. But his mother had no time to give to her crops now, and John had more than he could manage with his fis.h.i.+ng besides, and was not able to make it as profitable as usual. But all their poor neighbours were very kind to them, and would always bring in any bit of more tempting food than they usually had, for poor little Robin. He lay patient enough on his hard bed, and was very cheerful and bright when his illness would allow it.

His father had delighted him beyond measure by tying me to the top of his bed, so that he could drag himself up into a sitting posture by my help, and he fancied himself quite a sailor, and used to lie there smiling, and talking in a low voice to himself about the ropes and rigging of a s.h.i.+p. Old Bill, the boatman, his father's mate, had made him a little boat, and while he was finis.h.i.+ng it, he used to sit by poor Robin's bedside, and tell him all about the different parts of a s.h.i.+p, so that the child (who was naturally quick, and was now no doubt made more so by his illness, and long rest), soon became quite knowing about the different sails and ropes.

"'This is a sloop, Bill, aint it,' he used to say, ''cause she's only got one mast. I should like to have a brig with two masts, and lots of sails!'

"Poor little Robin! he was never well again, for, as it seemed afterwards, his spine had received some injury from the fall, which it never recovered. He only lived to be twelve years old, and during that time could never get about like other boys, and was continually laid up, especially in the cold winter season, for months together. But as his body became so weak, his mind seemed to grow instead, and he was more like a man than a child in his thoughts and ways, though _always_ patient. He improved on his old tutor's lessons too, and became quite a skilful boat maker, and turned out some very pretty little wooden models of s.h.i.+ps and boats, all properly rigged, which his mother sold for him in the market at the town hard by. He was able by these means to add a little to the family fund, and though his gains were, of course, but small, it was better than being a helpless burthen upon his poor parents, and the light work whiled away many a weary hour of suffering and pain for him. Through all the years that had pa.s.sed since his accident, I had been left still tied to the tester of his bed, and I still served to help him to drag up his feeble limbs, and to turn in bed, for he was very feeble, poor fellow.

[Ill.u.s.tration: JACK IN JEOPARDY. _Page 188._]

"But I was destined to play an important part once more, and for the last time in the family history. When Robin was about twelve years old, there came a very severe winter, which was sorely felt all through the little fis.h.i.+ng village, and by none more heavily than the poor fisherman's family. The fis.h.i.+ng turned out badly, and the previous potato crop having been a scanty one, they barely found enough to live upon. Poor Robin had been more than usually delicate and ailing during that winter, and suffered more than the rest from all the privations.

The spring drew on drearily enough, cold, dull, and cheerless, so that there scarcely seemed a glimpse of hope of better days. One day when John was almost out of heart and hope, he set off on a long ramble, hoping by diligent climbing and search to find at any rate a few rare birds' nests in the crevices of the cliffs. Everything had gone worse even than usual, there had been no fish caught worth mentioning for many days, and John's poor old patched and mended nets were rapidly falling to pieces in spite of all his care, while he was not able to buy enough bread for the little household, not to mention material for new nets. So he climbed wearily on, and rounded rock after rock, meeting with but little success, till at last he had reached a long distance from home, and had climbed a good way up one of the tallest cliffs in the neighbourhood. He was rewarded by finding a couple of rare nests full of eggs, and with renewed hope he climbed eagerly on. He saw one just a little above him, but in a very awkward place to get at, for there was a cleft in the rock he must leap over to get at it. He had a steady head and a light foot, and took the leap without hesitation, when, to his horror, as he alighted on the other side a piece of the mouldering stone broke off, and fell rolling down with a loud noise, crumbling to pieces as it bounded down the sharp rocky face of the cliff. There was now too wide a s.p.a.ce between for him to risk the return, and there he stood on a narrow ledge of rock, with the sharp peaks and the roaring sea beneath him, and a steep wall of cliff stretching up above his head. John Pike was a brave man, and had been used to face many a danger, but the blood seemed to leave his heart, and his breath almost stopped, as he understood the full peril of his position. It was indeed a serious one, and as he thought over the scant chance there was of any help or rescue, he covered his face with his hands and groaned in agony for those at home, more than for himself. And while he stood there, despairing of all human aid, many a prayer went up from his heart's core to G.o.d for help for the sake of his wife and poor Robin. And then he set to work with all his best energy to make his terrible position known. He had fortunately a handkerchief in his pocket, and this he tied to the walking-stick he always took with him on his climbing expeditions. He shouted at frequent intervals in the hope of making some one hear, and at last, to his great joy, he espied a little figure below on the distant beach! It was a poor shrimper, with her nets on her back, returning home, and she saw at a glance how the case stood, and hastened at once to the village to give an alarm. In a shorter s.p.a.ce of time than could have been hoped even, John saw a number of his fellow fishermen hastening down the beach to him. He could not catch their words, but he understood from their signs that they found it would be impossible to get him down again, and so they were going to mount the cliff, and try and get at him that way. As they pa.s.sed the village on their way to the top of the cliff, poor Mary rushed out wildly to them, for she had by accident heard the truth, anxiously as her kind neighbours had tried to prevent it. They hastily told her their plans, and asked her for the longest ropes she had, as they would want all they could get. She hurriedly dragged me down, and rushed after them, for, as she said, she could not stay at home, while her husband was in such peril, and she must see the worst with her own eyes. When they reached the top of the cliff, the fishermen hastily rigged up a sort of rude windla.s.s, and knotting the lengths of rope firmly together, they succeeded in making a line long enough to reach him, and firm enough to bear him. It was an anxious time, while they gradually drew him up the steep face of the cliff. They did not dare to pull quickly, for fear he should be dashed against the rock and lose his hold, and they were also afraid of grazing the rope against the jagged rocks. But at last, with great care, and by his own prudent management and skill in guiding the rope, he was landed safely on the top of the cliff. Poor Mary was so overjoyed at his escape, that when they all turned to go home, and were tying up the rope again, she caught me up, and declared she should value me to her dying day. Strangely enough, I was the only rope that was damaged of all, for I had been chafed a good deal against the rock, and in one place was nearly cut through. For a long while after Mary shuddered so at the sight of that piece of me, that at last Robin, who had regained possession of me, cut me through. The longer piece was kept for the boat, and the shorter length you now behold was tied up again for poor Robin's use as before.

"There was not one in the village who did not heartily rejoice at John's rescue; and it almost seemed as if after that things had come to the worst, for they began to mend. There were more fish taken than had been known on that coast for many years, and the weather proved most fortunate for getting in the humble crops, so that John had some new nets at last; and the poor family had enough to eat. But better food and brighter days could not save poor Robin; the long winter had told too heavily upon him to enable him to rally again. By the time the blackberries were in flower on the top of the cliff, Robin had faded away, like their leaves, but very patient, very happy to the last. His mother had fancied him asleep, as he lay so quietly with one of my ends still held fast in his wasted fingers. His mother fretted so for him, and took his loss so sadly to heart, that it was pitiable to see her.

The sight of his vacant bed, and the cord still hanging there, seemed to go like a knife to her heart; and therefore John took me away one day without her knowledge, and put me out of sight.

"I was forgotten for many years, so many indeed, that when I next came to daylight I found everything strange and altered in the cottage. John and his wife, grown old and past work, had gone to live in another house, better sheltered from the wind, and one of their children, now married, had settled there instead. I was tossed about for a long while, for no one now living knew my real history, and had therefore little value for me, and indeed I was more especially held in dislike by the young ones, as affording them just that taste of "the rope's end" that they did not covet.

"The end of my career was that of being tied round a box, when one of the daughters went to service, and left Rocksand, and thus I came to town. My life here had nothing remarkable in it; I was put to my present use one day when one of the young Spensers was taken with a pa.s.sion for skipping. They declared I was heavier and better than all the smart skipping-ropes to be bought at the toy shop, and made such continual use of me, that I am really almost threadbare. But I was poked away in this cupboard on the occasion of some great nursery clearing, and here I have lived ever since."

"How you must have regretted your freedom," said the Kite, in a sympathising tone; "I feel myself sometimes quite what I may call sky-sick! I would give all my ta.s.sels and fringes for one more good flight through the clear air. When I think of the bright sun, and the nice fleecy clouds, I am almost inclined to tumble to pieces for grief, to think I can't get out of this horrid, dusty stuffy hole of a toy cupboard, as they call it! A prison _I_ consider it, and a cruel one too!"

"I _would_ give anything I could," sighed the old Skipping-rope, "for even one breath of the fresh salt sea breeze. I think of the dancing waves glittering in the sun, till I feel quite giddy. But it is no use repining, and after all, really this little break on the monotony of our existence is very pleasant."

"It _is_ very pleasant," a.s.sented the Ball, "but I am afraid our time to-night at any rate grows very short, for it is almost dark, and that terrible old woman will be coming back. So with your leave, my friends, I will call upon the Humming Top for his story."

[Ill.u.s.tration]