Holiday Romance | Page 6

'Tyrants!' muttered the pirate-colonel.
'Nay, my Redforth,' said Alice, 'say not so. Call not names, my
Redforth, or they will apply to pa.'
'Let 'em,' said the colonel. 'I do not care. Who's he?'
Tinkling here undertook the perilous task of remonstrating with his
lawless friend, who consented to withdraw the moody expressions
above quoted.
'What remains for us to do?' Alice went on in her mild, wise way. 'We
must educate, we must pretend in a new manner, we must wait.'
The colonel clenched his teeth, - four out in front, and a piece of
another, and he had been twice dragged to the door of a dentist- despot,
but had escaped from his guards. 'How educate? How pretend in a new
manner? How wait?'
'Educate the grown-up people,' replied Alice. 'We part to-night. Yes,

Redforth,' - for the colonel tucked up his cuffs, - 'part to- night! Let us
in these next holidays, now going to begin, throw our thoughts into
something educational for the grown-up people, hinting to them how
things ought to be. Let us veil our meaning under a mask of romance;
you, I, and Nettie. William Tinkling being the plainest and quickest
writer, shall copy out. Is it agreed?'
The colonel answered sulkily, 'I don't mind.' He then asked, 'How about
pretending?'
'We will pretend,' said Alice, 'that we are children; not that we are those
grown-up people who won't help us out as they ought, and who
understand us so badly.'
The colonel, still much dissatisfied, growled, 'How about waiting?'
'We will wait,' answered little Alice, taking Nettie's hand in hers, and
looking up to the sky, 'we will wait - ever constant and true - till the
times have got so changed as that everything helps us out, and nothing
makes us ridiculous, and the fairies have come back. We will wait -
ever constant and true - till we are eighty, ninety, or one hundred. And
then the fairies will send US children, and we will help them out, poor
pretty little creatures, if they pretend ever so much.'
'So we will, dear,' said Nettie Ashford, taking her round the waist with
both arms and kissing her. 'And now if my husband will go and buy
some cherries for us, I have got some money.'
In the friendliest manner I invited the colonel to go with me; but he so
far forgot himself as to acknowledge the invitation by kicking out
behind, and then lying down on his stomach on the grass, pulling it up
and chewing it. When I came back, however, Alice had nearly brought
him out of his vexation, and was soothing him by telling him how soon
we should all be ninety.
As we sat under the willow-tree and ate the cherries (fair, for Alice
shared them out), we played at being ninety. Nettie complained that she
had a bone in her old back, and it made her hobble; and Alice sang a
song in an old woman's way, but it was very pretty, and we were all
merry. At least, I don't know about merry exactly, but all comfortable.
There was a most tremendous lot of cherries; and Alice always had
with her some neat little bag or box or case, to hold things. In it that
night was a tiny wine-glass. So Alice and Nettie said they would make
some cherry-wine to drink our love at parting.

Each of us had a glassful, and it was delicious; and each of us drank the
toast, 'Our love at parting.' The colonel drank his wine last; and it got
into my head directly that it got into his directly. Anyhow, his eyes
rolled immediately after he had turned the glass upside down; and he
took me on one side and proposed in a hoarse whisper, that we should
'Cut 'em out still.'
'How did he mean?' I asked my lawless friend.
'Cut our brides out,' said the colonel, 'and then cut our way, without
going down a single turning, bang to the Spanish main!'
We might have tried it, though I didn't think it would answer; only we
looked round and saw that there was nothing but moon-light under the
willow-tree, and that our pretty, pretty wives were gone. We burst out
crying. The colonel gave in second, and came to first; but he gave in
strong.
We were ashamed of our red eyes, and hung about for half-an-hour to
whiten them. Likewise a piece of chalk round the rims, I doing the
colonel's, and he mine, but afterwards found in the bedroom
looking-glass not natural, besides inflammation. Our conversation
turned on being ninety. The colonel told me he had a pair of boots that
wanted soling and heeling; but he thought it hardly worth while to
mention it