Brothers of Pity | Page 9

born blind. My
father used to go and see them, and report their progress to my mother
on his return.
"They can see to-day."
"They have curled themselves up. Every one of them. Six beautiful
little balls; as round as crab-apples and as safe as burrs!"
I tried to curl myself up, but I could only get my coat a little way over
my nose. I cried with vexation. But one should not lose heart too easily.
With patience and perseverance most things can be brought about, and
I could soon both see and curl myself into a ball. It was about this time
that my father hurried home one day, tossing the leaves at least three
inches over his head as he bustled along.
"What in the hedge do you think has happened to the six?" said he.
"Oh, don't tell me!" cried my mother; "I am so nervous." (Which she
was, and rather foolish as well, which used to irritate my father, who
was hasty tempered, as I am myself.)
"They've been taken by gipsies and flitted," said he.
"What do you mean by flitted?" inquired my mother.
"A string is tied round a hind-leg of each, and they are tethered in the

grass behind the tent, just as the donkey is tethered. So they will remain
till they grow fat, and then they will be cooked."
"Will the donkey be cooked when he is fat?" asked my mother.
"I smell valerian," said my father; on which she put out her nose, and
he ran at it with his prickles. He always did this when he was annoyed
with any member of his family; and though we knew what was coming,
we are all so fond of valerian, we could never resist the temptation to
sniff, just on the chance of there being some about.
I had long wanted to see my cousins, and I now begged my father to let
me go with him the next time he went to visit them. But he was rather
cross that morning, and he ran at me with his back up.
"So you want to gad about and be kidnapped and flitted too, do you?
Just let me--"
But when I saw him coming, I rolled myself up as tight as a
wood-louse, and as my ears were inside I really did not hear what else
he said. But I was not a whit the less resolved to see my cousins.
One day my father bustled home.
"Upon my whine," said he, "they live on the fat of the land. Scraps of
all kinds, apples, and a dish of bread and milk under their very noses. I
sat inside a gorse bush on the bank, and watched them till my mouth
watered."
The next day he reported--
"They've cooked one--in clay. There are only five now."
And the next day--
"They've cooked another. Now there are only four."
"There won't be a cousin left if I wait much longer," thought I.

On the morrow there were only three.
My mother began to cry. "My poor dear nephews and nieces!" said she
(though she had never seen them). "What a world this is!"
"We must take it as we eat eggs," said my father, with that air of
wisdom which naturally belongs to the sayings of the head of the
family, "the shell with the yolk. And they have certainly had excellent
victuals."
Next morning he went off as usual, and I crept stealthily after him.
With his spines laid flat to his sides, and his legs well under him, he ran
at a good round pace, and as he did not look back I followed him with
impunity. By and by he climbed a bank and then crept into a furze bush,
whose prickles were no match for his own. I dared not go right into the
bush for fear he should see me, but I settled myself as well as I could
under shelter of a furze branch, and looked down on to the other side of
the bank, where my father's nose was also directed. And there I saw my
three cousins, tethered as he had said, and apparently very busy
over-eating themselves on food which they had not had the trouble of
procuring.
If I had heard less about the cooking, I might have envied them; as it
was, that somewhat voracious appetite characteristic of my family
disturbed my judgment sufficiently to make me almost long to be
flitted myself. I fancy it must have been when I pushed out my nose
and sniffed involuntarily towards the victuals, that the gipsy man heard
me.
He had been lying on the grass, looking much lazier than my
cousins--which is saying a good deal--and only turning his swarthy face
when the