Terry | Page 6

Now, can't we, Turly?"
Turly, who was riding from Kimberley to Pretoria on the newly-painted
rocking-horse, waved an assent, and Nurse Nancy left the nursery
without misgiving.
She was not long gone before Terry began to get impatient with the
new dolls. She had inspected them inside and outside, found what they
were made of, satisfied herself as to whether or not their clothes came
off and on, tossed up their curls and smoothed them down again,
shaken them up and told them to stand up straight, which they promptly
refused to do. At last it seemed that there was nothing more to be done
with them.
"Oh, you are stupid!" she exclaimed; "staring with your glassy eyes,
always your same pink cheeks, and never saying a word."
"Dolls don't talk," said Turly, who was now solemnly engaged in
making a play on the floor with a box of soldiers.
"Of course they don't," said Terry. "That's just what it is. I hate playing
with things that have got no life in them!"
"Soldiers aren't alive," said Turly, as one tumbled over and he set it up
again, "but I'm having a splendid battle."
"Oh, Turly, how can you? Oh, I do so want things to be alive! Now, do
just come over to the window and look down into the yard at Vulcan

sitting in his kennel, poor dear, when he is longing to be running all
over the world! Oh, I declare, he sees us, and is wagging his tail! Just
look at his big eyes and his nose pointed up at us. Now, that is the kind
of creature I want to play with. But there he is shut up in his cage, and
we--"
"Can't we go down to him?" said Turly.
"It's too wet. Nurse would be in such a fuss if we played in the yard.
But I don't see why we mightn't bring him up. He's the watch-dog, and
watch-dogs are only wanted there at night. It couldn't be any harm to
have him up here only for half an hour or so. I'll wipe his paws on the
mat so that he sha'n't make any mess. And he doesn't bark much unless
he hears a noise at night, so I am sure he wouldn't disturb Grandma."
Turly had swept away his soldiers, and stood up ready for the
adventure.
"I won that battle," he said; "so now, come on!"
"Take my hand, Turly. They sha'n't say I led you into mischief this
time," said Terry. "I'll take care you don't fall down the back stairs."
[Illustration]
"I can take care of that myself," said Turly.
"No, you can't. You are not as old as I am, so hold on to me well in
case the stairs are slippy."
They went out on the landing very quietly, "not to make any fuss", as
Terry said, and made for the gate at the top of the stairs. Terry knew the
trick of the hasp and it was quickly opened, and away they went, down
flight after flight, into the yard.
"Oh, I say, it is wet!" said Turly, as they paddled across the yard with
the rain pouring on them.
"Hush!" said Terry, "or someone will hear you and come running to

prevent us. And it can't be any harm. It will be such a delightful treat
for poor old Vulcan!"
Turly said no more, and the two children stood with the rain drenching
their hair and clothes, and almost blinding them, as in silence they
unfastened the chain that held Vulcan to his kennel. The dog was
scarcely able to believe his senses when he felt the little soft hands
pawing at his neck, and as soon as he was free he jumped on them
wildly, embracing them with his hairy arms and covering them with
mud.
"Quiet, now, Vulcan!" said Terry softly. "You must be very good, or
we sha'n't be able to take you up to the nursery. Come along, old fellow,
and pick your steps over the sloppy places."
They got safely across the yard, gained the door, and went up the stone
stair, leaving streams of muddy water on all the steps behind them.
Arrived at the top, Terry looked round for a mat, but there was nothing
just at that spot except the carpet, so she took out her
pocket-handkerchief and wiped Vulcan's feet with it.
"It makes no difference to his wetness," she said, "but that does not
matter. His feet will get dry by degrees."
"We have made a mess on the stairs," said Turly, looking back.
"Yes, I don't know how we ever got so wet," said Terry; "but stone
stairs dry up so quickly. Come along now, Vulcan, you are not to bark
a word or