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قراءة كتاب Hollowdell Grange: Holiday Hours in a Country Home
تنويه: تعرض هنا نبذة من اول ١٠ صفحات فقط من الكتاب الالكتروني، لقراءة الكتاب كاملا اضغط على الزر “اشتر الآن"
his back downwards, and arms and legs clasping the bough. The small twigs and branches made this no easy task, but, to the great delight and admiration of Fred, he soon reached the tree, where he passed the line to Philip, who was elevated in his turn by Fred, till he could reach Harry’s extended hand.
“Now you won’t pull him out till I come down,” said Harry.
“Oh, no,” said Philip.
“Honour bright,” said Harry.
“Honour bright,” said Philip.
Then, and only then, did the climber loose his hold of the line and proceed to make his descent. He contrived to get into the fork of the tree, and then let himself down until he hung by his hands, and tried to clasp the trunk with his legs, but somehow or other the tree seemed to keep gliding away from him, and the more he tried the more tired he grew, till at last his hands slipped, and down he came upon the ground in a sitting position.
Happily, the distance was only small, and there was too much excitement awaiting him for Harry to spare time for anything more than a terrible grimace.
“Now, then,” he said, taking hold of the line and drawing it gently, “look out, boys,” and then, with his beautiful golden scales glittering in the sun, and his strength completely gone, a carp of about a pound and a half weight rose to the surface, and, turning on his side, was drawn inshore.
“Now hold the line, and I’ll land him,” said Harry to his brother, who took his post while the speaker went down upon his knees to grasp the fish.
“Flip, flap, plish, plash,” went the carp, when Harry’s hand came in contact with its shiny sides.
“Oh!” groaned all the boys, “he’s gone;” for the fish was free from the line, the hook having, broken out of his mouth.
But he was not quite gone, for he lay in a shallow on some weeds, feebly opening and shutting his gills. The next flap of his tail, however, would have taken him into deep water, but in went Harry into the mud up to his knees, and with one scoop of his hand sent the golden treasure flying out on to the grass, yards away from the pond edge.
Didn’t they cheer, and didn’t Harry dance about, on the grass with his black muddy legs dripping about, and the water going “suck, suck,” in his boots, and squeezing out at every step. How they gloated over the poor panting prize; so much, that it was ever so long before they could stop to rub Harry’s legs down with bunches of grass; and it was no easy matter for Fred and Philip to do, for the wet boy kept dancing, and cheering, and skipping about like a mad thing, slapping his brother’s back; and at last, when they were half finished—
“Bring the tiddlers along, and let’s keep carpy alive,” he shouted; and running to the edge of the pond, soaked his handkerchief therein, wrapped up the carp, and away they all ran homewards, to put the fish in their little pond. Philip, who was carrying the can of little fish—which had now become almost insignificant in the eyes of their captors—kept splashing his legs at every step, till they were nearly as wet as his brother’s; while Fred, who bore the rods, had to stop more than once to disentangle the lines from the overhanging branches as they went down the lane.
At last they reached home, to find Mary carrying in the dinner, after Mr Inglis had been waiting about an hour for the truants, and at last, exhausted in patience, had ordered it in.
“Look! look! Papa, Mamma,” shouted Harry, rushing in through the French window; “look, here’s a fish!”
“Soak, soak,” went his boots as he went in.
“Take him outside,” said his father to the two other boys, who were just coming breathlessly in, only Fred was entangled by the rods crossing the window. “Take him outside, the young rascal is spoiling the carpet with his wet boots.”
It was no use to think of dinner then, so Papa and Mamma both had to come outside the window to see and admire the carp, and hear how it was captured, before the mid-day meal could be gone on with.
“Ah!” said the Squire at last, “there used to be plenty of fine carp in Trencher Pond down the deep hole under the tree, but I did not know there were any left, for the dry summers killed them when the railway cutting was made and took off so much water. But come, boys, dinner.”
And then he drove them off, and made them enter the hall-door so as to make themselves fit for the repast that awaited them. But he was not quite successful, for Harry made a double, and ran off to pop his carp in the pond, but was back directly, and shortly after in the dining-room, feasting away with a country boy’s appetite—an appetite, too, that Fred already began to show symptoms of possessing, as the fruit of his visit to Hollowdell.
Chapter Three.
Indoor Amusements.
Dinner had not been finished above an hour before the sky became overcast; and, all at once, a rushing, sweeping wind came over the country. Far-off in the distance where the hills could be seen, a thick, misty appearance almost hid them from sight. There was a low, muttering sound, then another, seemingly nearer; then came a dazzling blue flash of lightning that made all the party stationed at the dining-room window start back; and then came a long, rolling, rattling peal of thunder, that sounded as though it had come bellowing through great metal pipes; while before it had died away in the distance, splashing and plunging down came the rain in torrents, ploughing up the flower-beds, and making little rivers run along each side of the gravel-walks. Out in the home-fields the cows and horses were running to get under shelter of the trees, and looked evidently frightened as flash succeeded flash of lightning, and peal after peal of thunder seemed to make the very heavens vibrate as they rolled round and round, east, west, north, and south. The rain kept streaming down so fast that out of doors seemed one great watery mist that could have been almost swum through.
All at once, just in the middle of a clap of thunder, Mary, the housemaid, opened the dining-room door, and hurriedly said something, but what no one could tell, for her voice was drowned by the rumbling peal.
“Oh! my poor verbenas,” said Mrs Inglis.
“Oh! won’t this fill up the carp-pond, jolly!” said Harry.
“Come in, Mary,” said Mrs Inglis; “what’s the matter? Are all the upstairs windows shut?”
“Oh! yes, mem,” said Mary; “but the drain’s stopped in the yard, and Dick’s kennel’s floating, and the water’s all coming into the kitchen.”
“Oh! come and see,” said Harry; and away the whole party went, to be just in time to see the water taking its departure, and Dick’s kennel wrecked, down by the gates where the yard was highest, for Old Sam, in spite of the pelting rain, was punching away at the sink-hole with the stump of an old birch broom, and the water was rushing down it like a little maelstrom; while the bits of straw and twigs that floated near, represented the unfortunate vessels that get caught in that famous whirlpool.
And still the rain kept pelting down, although the lightning ceased to flash, and the thunder grew more and more distant, till it could only be heard to mutter occasionally afar off. And still the rain kept pouring down, even after cook had made up a roaring fire and wiped up all the water, trundling her mop outside the scullery door till it seemed to go off like a wet firework, as she spun and twisted it upon her great red arms. And still it kept raining, after cook had smeared mason’s dust all over the stone floor with the wet mop, and when it had dried up and the floor looked beautiful and white—white like the clean dresser and table that cook used to scrub with soap and sand as though she meant to scrub all the top off. And still it kept on raining, till tea was brought in, and the urn hissed and sputtered upon