The Long Vacation Part 12

"n.o.body over reads that, so it won't signify," was the uncomplimentary verdict.

"And," added Mysie, "Mr. Brownlow would do a history of Rockquay, and that would be worth having."

"Oh yes, the dear ghost and all!" cried Valetta.

The acclamation was general, for the Reverend Armine Brownlow was the cynosure curate of the lady Church-helpers, and Mysie produced as a precious loan, to show what could be done, the volume containing the choicest morceaux of the family magazine of his youth, the Traveller's Joy, in white parchment binding adorned with clematis, and emblazoned with the Evelyn arms on one side, the Brownlow on the other, and full of photographs and reproductions of drawings.

"Much too costly," said the prudent.

"It was not for sale," said Mysie, obviously uneasy while it was being handed round.

"Half-a-crown should be our outside price," said Gillian.

"Or a s.h.i.+lling without photographs, half-a-crown with," was added.

"Shall I ask Uncle Lance what can be done for how much?" asked Anna, and this was accepted with acclamation, but, as Gillian observed, they had yet got no further than Dolores' Eruption and the unwritten history.

"There are lots of stories," said Kitty Varley; "the one about Bayard and all the knights in Italy."

"The one," said Gillian, "where Padua got into the kingdom of Naples, and the lady of the house lighted a lucifer match, besides the horse who drained a goblet of red wine."

"You know that was only the p.r.o.nouns," suggested the author.

"Then there's another," added Valetta, "called Monrepos--such a beauty, when the husband was wounded, and died at his wife's feet just as the sun gilded the tops of the pines, and she died when the moon set, and the little daughter went in and was found dead at their feet."

"No, no, Val," said Gillian. "Here is a story that Bessie has sent us--really worth having."

"Mesa! Oh, of course," was the acclamation.

"And here's a little thing of mine," Gillian added modestly, "about the development of the brain."

At this there was a shout.

"A little thing! Isn't it on the differential calculus?"

"Really, I don't see why Rockquay should not have a little rational study!"

"Ah! but the present question is what Rockquay will buy; to further future development it may be, but I am afraid their brains are not yet developed enough," said Emma Norton.

"Well then, here is the comparison between Euripides and Shakespeare."

"That's what you read papa and everybody to sleep with," said Valetta pertly.

"Except Aunt Lily, and she said she had read something very like it in Schlegel," added Dolores.

"You must not be too deep for ordinary intellects, Gillian," said Emma Norton good-naturedly. "Surely there is that pretty history you made out of Count Baldwin the Pretender."

"That! Oh, that is a childish concern."

"The better fitted for our understandings," said Emma, disinterring it, and handing it over to Anna, while Mysie breathed out--

"Oh! I did like it! And, Gill, where is Phyllis's account of the Jubilee gaieties and procession last year?"

"That would make the fortune of any paper," said Anna.

"Yes, if Lady Rotherwood will let it be used," said Gillian. "It is really delightful and full of fun, but I am quite sure that her name could not appear, and I do not expect leave to use it."

"Shall I write and ask?" said Mysie.

"Oh yes, do; if Cousin Rotherwood is always gracious, it is specially to you."

"I wrote to my cousin, Gerald Underwood," said Anna, "to ask if he had anything to spare us, though I knew he would laugh at the whole concern, and he has sent down this. I don't quite know whether he was in earnest or in mischief."

And she read aloud--

"Dreaming of her laurels green, The learned Girton girl is seen, Or under the trapeze neat Figuring as an athlete.

Never at the kitchen door Will she scrub or polish more; No metaphoric dirt she eats, Literal dirt may form her treats.

Mary never idle sits, Home lessons can't be learnt by fits; Hard she studies all the week, Answers with undaunted cheek.

When to exam Mary goes, Smartly dressed in stunning clothes, Expert in algebraic rule, Best pupil-teacher of her school.

Oh, how clever we are found Who live on England's happy ground, Where rich and poor and wretched may Be drilled in Whitehall's favoured way."

There was a good deal of laughter at this parody of Jane Taylor's Village Girl, though Mysie was inclined to be shocked as at something profane.

"Then what will you think of this?" said Anna, beginning gravely to read aloud The Inspector's Tour.

It was very clever, so clever that Valetta and Kitty Varley both listened as in sober earnest, never discovering, or only in flashes like Mysie, that it was really a satire on all the social state of the different European nations, under the denomination of schools. One being depicted as highly orthodox, but much given to sentence insubordination to dark cold closets; another as given to severe drill, but neglecting manners; a third as repudiating religious teaching, and now and then preparing explosions for the masters--no, teachers. The various conversations were exceedingly bright and comical; and there were brilliant hits at existing circ.u.mstances, all a little in a socialistic spirit, which made Anna pause as she read. She really had not perceived till she heard it in her own voice and with other ears how audacious it was, especially for a school bazaar.

Dolores applauded with her whole heart, but owned that it might be too good for the Mouse-trap, it would be too like catching a monkey!

Gillian, more doubtfully, questioned whether it would "quite do"; and Mysie, when she understood the allusions, thought it would not. Emma Norton was more decided, and it ended by deciding that the paper should be read to the elders at Clipstone, and their decision taken before sending it to Uncle Lance.

The spirits of the Muscipula party rose as they discussed the remaining MSS., but these were not of the highest order of merit; and Anna thought that the really good would be sufficient; and all the Underwood kith and kin had sufficient knowledge of the Press through their connection with the 'Pursuivant' to be authorities on the subject.

"Fergus has some splendid duplicate ammonites for me and bits of crystal," said Mysie.

"Oh, do let Fergus alone," entreated Gillian. "He is almost a petrifaction already, and you know what depends on it."

"My sister is coming next week for a few days," said Anna. "She is very clever, and may help us."

Emilia was accordingly introduced to the Mice, but she was not very tolerant of them. Essay societies, she said, were out of date, and she thought the Rockquay young ladies a very country-town set.

"You don't know them, Emmie," said Anna. "Gillian and Dolores are very remarkable girls, only--"