The Peace Egg and Other tales | Page 5

had a passion for telling and hearing news, and would rather gossip with a child than not gossip at all. "Never you mind, Master Robin," she said, nodding sagaciously. "Little boys aren't to know everything."
"Ah, then, I know you don't know," replied Robert; "if you did, you'd tell. Nicholas, give some of your bread to Darkie and Pax. I've done mine. For what we have received, the Lord make us truly thankful. Say your grace and put your chair away, and come along. I want to hold a court-martial!" And seizing his own chair by the seat, Robin carried it swiftly to its corner. As he passed Sarah, he observed tauntingly, "You pretend to know, but you don't."
"I do," said Sarah.
"You don't," said Robin.
"Your ma's forbid you to contradict, Master Robin," said Sarah; "and if you do I shall tell her. I know well enough who the old gentleman is, and perhaps I might tell you, only you'd go straight off and tell again."
"No, no, I wouldn't!" shouted Robin. "I can keep a secret, indeed I can! Pinch my little finger, and try. Do, do tell me, Sarah, there's a dear Sarah, and then I shall know you know." And he danced round her, catching at her skirts.
To keep a secret was beyond Sarah's powers.
"Do let my dress be, Master Robin," she said, "you're ripping out all the gathers, and listen while I whisper. As sure as you're a living boy, that gentleman's your own grandpapa."
Robin lost his hold on Sarah's dress; his arms fell by his side, and he stood with his brows knit for some minutes, thinking. Then he said, emphatically, "What lies you do tell, Sarah!"
"Oh, Robin!" cried Nicholas, who had drawn near, his thick curls standing stark with curiosity, "Mamma said 'lies' wasn't a proper word, and you promised not to say it again."
"I forgot," said Robin. "I didn't mean to break my promise. But she does tell--ahem! you know what."
"You wicked boy!" cried the enraged Sarah; "how dare you to say such a thing! and everybody in the place knows he's your ma's own pa."
"I'll go and ask her," said Robin, and he was at the door in a moment; but Sarah, alarmed by the thought of getting into a scrape herself, caught him by the arm.
"Don't you go, love; it'll only make your ma angry. There; it was all my nonsense."
"Then it's not true?" said Robin, indignantly. "What did you tell me so for?"
"It was all my jokes and nonsense," said the unscrupulous Sarah. "But your ma wouldn't like to know I've said such a thing. And Master Robert wouldn't be so mean as to tell tales, would he, love?"
"I'm not mean," said Robin, stoutly; "and I don't tell tales; but you do, and you tell you know what, besides. However, I won't go this time; but I'll tell you what--if you tell tales of me to Papa any more, I'll tell him what you said about the old gentleman in the blue cloak." With which parting threat Robin strode, off to join his brothers and sister.
Sarah's tale had put the court-martial out of his head, and he leaned against the tall fender, gazing at his little sister, who was tenderly nursing a well-worn doll. Robin sighed.
"What a long time that doll takes to wear out, Dora!" said he. "When will it be done?"
"Oh, not yet, not yet!" cried Dora, clasping the doll to her, and turning away. "She's quite good, yet."
"How miserly you are," said her brother; "and selfish, too; for you know I can't have a military funeral till you'll let me bury that old thing."
Dora began to cry.
"There you go, crying!" said Robin, impatiently. "Look here: I won't take it till you get the new one on your birthday. You can't be so mean as not to let me have it then!"
But Dora's tears still fell. "I love this one so much," she sobbed. "I love her better than the new one."
"You want both; that's it," said Robin, angrily. "Dora, you're the meanest girl I ever knew!"
At which unjust and painful accusation Dora threw herself and the doll upon their faces, and wept bitterly. The eyes of the soft-hearted Nicholas began to fill with tears, and he squatted down before her, looking most dismal. He had a fellow-feeling for her attachment to an old toy, and yet Robin's will was law to him.
"Couldn't we make a coffin, and pretend the body was inside?" he suggested.
"No, we couldn't," said Robin. "I wouldn't play the Dead March after an empty candle-box. It's a great shame--and I promised she should be chaplain in one of my night-gowns, too."
"Perhaps you'll get just as fond of the new one," said Nicholas, turning to Dora.
But Dora only cried, "No, no! He shall have the new one to