Soap-Bubble Stories Part 30

"I shall leave off rattling the money-box, and try and forget all about it till Friday."

"You're right there, sir," said Jeptha, not noticing the new rendering of the proverb, for he was as fond of long words and sentences as Bobbie himself; "you come right up to the cottage on Friday, along of nurse and Miss Jerry. The missus 'll have tea for you, and _I'll_ see that Jim brings the guinea-pigs."

"Does James Seton know anything about cats?" enquired Jerry eagerly.

"You know they're _my_ favourite animals--just like guinea-pigs are Bobbie's--and I do want to get some new recipes for my cat-book!"

"Why whatever is a cat-book, Miss Jerry?" asked Jeptha curiously.

"Don't you know, Jeptha? I write down all sorts of cures for cats, and what they ought to eat; and several times it's been very useful to Miss Meadows and Maria."

"I can't say _I_ know much about the subject, Miss Jerry, nor I don't think Jim doesn't, neither, never having made a study of it, as you may say. Miss Meadders is the tabby cat, ain't she? A very fine cat I call her."

"Yes; I made a portrait of her and Maria, to send to mamma out in India, and Bobbie made a picture of Funnel (not _you_, you know). She liked them so much. Shall I tell you why Bobbie is so interested in guinea-pigs?" continued Jerry, taking the old man's hand, and speaking in a mysterious whisper.

"You know Jack belongs to the 'Cavey Club' at school, where all the boys _must_ keep guinea-pigs; and he wrote Bobbie a letter last term with a picture of a guinea-pig on the flap of the envelope, and 'Where is it?' written where the tail ought to be. Ever since then Bobbie has been _mad_ after guinea-pigs."

"Yes, I can remember Master Jack a-walking in here with ten of 'em,"

said Jeptha, "and keepin' 'em in the lumber room in houses made out of cigar-boxes."

"Oh, but Aunt Lucy found it out, and wouldn't allow it," said Jerry.

"They all had to be taken out to the stable yard again."

"I must own I think on _that_ occasion yer Aunt was reasonable, Miss Jerry; a guinea-pig don't seem a kind of a domestic indoor animal--like a cat, for instance."

"Will you have m.u.f.flings and crumfits for tea, do you think, when we come?" enquired Bobbie, after a thoughtful pause. "Excuse me asking you, but I do like them so very much."

"Oh, Bobbie, you shouldn't say that!" cried Jerry, reprovingly; "it's very impolite. Aunt Lucy would be quite _horrified_!"

"Well, I don't _mean_ anything rude," said Bobbie. "I _do_ like them, and I can't help it. I can't see why it's any more rude than if I said I liked guinea-pigs."

CHAPTER II.

The next day was a very wet one; and Aunt Lucy, coming up into the schoolroom in the morning--as she invariably did, even during the holidays--saw a most extraordinary collection of baskets standing on the floor, in front of a small fire of sticks blazing away in the fireplace.

There was a large covered market basket, a fish bag with a skewer through the top, and a small j.a.panese basket, with a lid which was kept in place by the poker and tongs laid carefully over it.

The baskets were all occasionally agitated from within; and Aunt Lucy found on enquiry that they contained the guinea-pig family, who having been flooded out of their usual quarters by the rain, had been brought in to a fire by Bobbie to be dried!

"I really object to these animals in the house!" said Aunt Lucy, trying to be severe; but Bobbie's face was so pathetic, she did not order them to be taken out at once, as she had at first intended.

"As soon as they are dry you must move them away, Bobbie," she continued; "I have had quite enough trouble with Jack's. I can't have the house turned into a menagerie."

"Really, Aunt Lucy, you needn't mind Habbakuk and Funnel--they are so very well behaved. I _have_ been debillerating whether I ought to bring in Pompey, because his hair _streams_ out--but he did look so cold and mis'rable, I thought you wouldn't objec'."

At this moment a housemaid came up to say there were visitors in the drawing-room.

"It is your two uncles from India," said Aunt Lucy, taking Bobbie's reluctant hand. "They have come on purpose to see you, so you must leave the guinea-pigs for a minute--Jerry can stay with them, and come down as soon as you return."

Bobbie departed groaning, while the under-nurse good-naturedly made up the fire, and began to dry the guinea-pigs with an old duster.

In a few minutes Bobbie returned, his fat round face red with the exertion of scrambling upstairs, his brown eyes sparkling.

"What are they like?" enquired Jerry, who was not fond of visitors, as Anne brushed at her curly hair, and tried in vain to flatten it to the nursery regulation of smoothness.

"Oh, two middle-aged, light gentlemen," replied Bobbie carelessly.

"One gave me a s.h.i.+lling to buy a guinea-pig, so now I'm quite safe in telling James to bring them on Friday." And Bobbie seated himself before the fire with Habbakuk and Funnel on his knees, and rubbed away at them vigorously.

Jerry retired downstairs, but reappeared in a very short time--rus.h.i.+ng into the room again like a whirlwind.

"What do you think the uncles have promised us, Bobbie?" she cried excitedly; "guess the most beautifullest thing you can possibly think of!"

"Guin----" commenced Bobbie, and checked himself hastily.

"Certainly not!" said Jerry, with decision. "I said I must run up and tell you, you'd be so _wild_ with joy; it begins with a 'P'--but it isn't 'pig.' Now guess again."

"Prawns, p'rambulators, p.r.o.ngs, pastry," commenced Bobbie rapidly.

"Well, none of those are very nice except pastry. I can't think of anything more, Jerry, you _must_ tell me."

"Pantomime!" said Jerry, triumphantly; "_next Sat.u.r.day!_--what do you say to that?"

Bobbie's eyes twinkled. "With preserved seats, like we had last time!

Oh, splendid!" and he began to caper about the room with delight.

"Well, this _has_ been a day!" he exclaimed, as he sank down, quite exhausted. "What a lot for my diary! I'd better write it out at once, before I forget it."

A large book, interleaved with blotting-paper, was disinterred from the play-box, and Bobbie sat down before it solemnly.

The greater part of this book was filled with minute accounts of what time its owner got up, and went to bed, what pudding he had for dinner, and what lessons he learnt; but on this occasion the entry a.s.sumed such large proportions that it spread right over the next day, and was wandering into "Friday," when Bobbie suddenly remembered the tea-party, and that room must certainly be left for _that_!

Jerry, looking over his shoulder, when he had finished, read the following, adorned with many blots and smudges:--

"Had sutch a day. 2 lite gentlemen who turnered into Unkels ('You mean, "turned _out_ to be uncles,"' corrected Jerry) came And gave me 1 s.h.i.+ling for the brown ginny-pig I acepted with thanks they are goin to tak us Jerry and me to the pantermine and tea at Mrs.

Funnels on Fryday (not the Unkels but nurs).

"P.S.--Plenty mor to say but no rume. cant put the puding to-day."

CHAPTER III.

One of Bobbie's and Jerry's greatest treats was to have tea at the cottage on the edge of the park, where old Mrs. Funnel presided over a table covered with cakes and home-made delicacies.

She always liked them to appear in good time; so punctually at four o'clock on Friday, the invited tea-party--consisting of "Old Nurse,"

in a crackling black silk, Jerry in spotless frilled cotton, and Bobbie in a white sailor's suit, bristling with starch and pearl b.u.t.tons--made their way through the little garden of the Funnels'

house, and rapped importantly on the door with the end of nurse's umbrella.

Mrs. Funnel, who had been awaiting the summons, welcomed them heartily; and Bobbie was relieved to see--on taking a cursory glance at the table--that besides the usual array of good things, there was a covered dish, which meant, as he knew by experience--m.u.f.fins.

Jeptha, in his Sunday coat, with a red geranium in his b.u.t.ton-hole, looked cheerfully conscious of his own splendour; and his wife's little wrinkled face beamed with kindness and hospitality.