The Book of One Syllable | Page 2

when Mrs. Grey had friends to dine or take tea with her. Here they were all put, to be brought out at the right time. The door of this room was kept shut, and made fast with a lock and key. Ruth had seen some of these nice things put on the stand, but she had not seen all, and she had a great wish to see them. She thought, if the door should not be shut, she would just peep in. She went twice to the door, but she found it fast. When she went a third time she found the key left in, and as she thought she could turn the key, she did, and went in.
Now it was wrong in Ruth to want to go near this room, as she knew quite well that Mrs. Grey did not wish her to go in. Once when she was near the door she thought she heard some one, and then she ran off as fast as she could. This she would not have done if she had not felt sure it was wrong to go in that room.
But now she was in! and what did she see there? Why, she saw the stand quite full of all sorts of nice sweet things. There were sponge cakes, and plum cakes, and queen cakes; there were two turn-outs, and whips and creams of all sorts; and there was a cake hid in red jam, with small thin white things put all up and down it, which stuck out. What could this be? She was sure it was jam, and yet she was sure jam was too soft to stand up in that way: she would just touch it. She did touch it, and she felt there was some hard thing in it: that could not be jam! It was strange! She would just like to know what it was: she must taste a small bit of the top--that could not spoil it, and she did so much want to know. She did taste--it was jam, spread on a sponge cake.
"A sponge cake! well, this is odd," thought Ruth. "I will just taste a bit: the jam will hide where I take it from."
She then tore a bit from the cake: it was more than she meant to take; but it was done, and she could not help it now. In vain did she try to hide the place--she could not do it; for if she took jam from this place, the cake was left bare on that. And the shape of the cake was not the same as it had been. She thought she would try to make that side of the cake on which the jam still was, like the side on which it was not; so off she took a piece from that side too. The cake was now in such a state that she could not hope to hide what she had done; and she was in such a state that she did not seem to care at all.
She next took up a spoon, and took a large piece from one of the turn-outs. She then went to the plum cake, and to the grapes, and to all the fruit. In short, she went from dish to dish, till there was not one in which she had not put her spoon.
Then she stood still--she stood to see the wreck she had made. Long she did not stand: a rush of thought gave wings to her feet, and she fled to hide in some place where she could not, she thought, be found. She fled to a tool-house in the yard; but she had not been half an hour there when she heard the voice of Mrs. Grey; she heard her step, too, come near and more near, till at length it came close to the door of the tool-house.
"Ruth, my dear," said Mrs. Grey, "why did you come out here? But I am glad to have found you, for I want you to come with me and take a plant to the green-house room."
"Oh, no, no! not in there--do not go in there!" cried Ruth, with a face quite pale.
Mrs. Grey could not think what Ruth meant, so she set off at once to the green-house room, and told Ruth that she must come too. But when Mrs. Grey had got to the door, no Ruth was to be seen. She then went in the room, and what she saw there told her more than words could tell.
"Ruth!" said she, "can you have done this?"
It was grief to think that a child of hers could have done this; but, much as she felt hurt, it was not for the loss of these things. Mrs. Grey sat down, and