The Peace Egg and Other tales | Page 9

when he turned to the first page the smile
vanished in a deep frown, and his eyes shone like hot coals with anger.
He had seen Robin's name.
"Who sent you here?" he asked, in a hoarse voice. "Speak, and speak
the truth! Did your mother send you here?"
Robin thought the old man was angry with them for playing truant. He
said, slowly, "N--no. She didn't exactly send us; but I don't think she'll
mind our having come if we get back in time for supper. Mamma never
forbid our going mumming, you know."
"I don't suppose she ever thought of it," Nicholas said, candidly,
wagging his curly head from side to side.
"She knows we're mummers," said Robin, "for she helped us. When we
were abroad, you know, she used to tell us about the mummers acting
at Christmas, when she was a little girl; and so we thought we'd be
mummers, and so we acted to Papa and Mamma, and so we thought
we'd act to the maids, but they were cleaning the passages, and so we

thought we'd really go mumming; and we've got several other houses to
go to before supper-time; we'd better begin, I think," said Robin; and
without more ado he began to march round and round, raising his
sword and shouting--
"I am St. George, who from Old England sprung, My famous name
throughout the world hath rung."
And the performance went off quite as creditably as before.
As the children acted the old man's anger wore off. He watched them
with an interest he could not repress. When Nicholas took some hard
thwacks from St. George without flinching, the old man clapped his
hands; and, after the encounter between St. George and the Black
Prince, he said he would not have had the dogs excluded on any
consideration. It was just at the end, when they were all marching
round and round, holding on by each other's swords "over the
shoulder," and singing "A mumming we will go," &c., that Nicholas
suddenly brought the circle to a standstill by stopping dead short, and
staring up at the wall before him.
"What are you stopping for?" said St. George, turning indignantly
round.
"Look there!" cried Nicholas, pointing to a little painting which hung
above the old man's head.
Robin looked, and said, abruptly, "It's Dora."
"Which is Dora?" asked the old man, in a strange, sharp tone.
"Here she is," said Robin and Nicholas in one breath, as they dragged
her forward.
"She's the Doctor," said Robin; "and you can't see her face for her
things. Dor, take off your cap and pull back that hood. There! Oh, it is
like her!"

It was a portrait of her mother as a child; but of this the nursery
mummers knew nothing. The old man looked as the peaked cap and
hood fell away from Dora's face and fair curls, and then he uttered a
sharp cry, and buried his head upon his hands. The boys stood stupefied,
but Dora ran up to him, and putting her little hands on his arms, said, in
childish pitying tones, "Oh, I am so sorry! Have you got a headache?
May Robin put the shovel in the fire for you? Mamma has hot shovels
for her headaches." And, though the old man did not speak or move,
she went on coaxing him, and stroking his head, on which the hair was
white. At this moment Pax took one of his unexpected runs, and
jumped on to the old man's knee, in his own particular fashion, and
then yawned at the company. The old man was startled, and lifted his
face suddenly. It was wet with tears.
"Why, you're crying!" exclaimed the children, with one breath.
"It's very odd," said Robin, fretfully. "I can't think what's the matter
to-night. Mamma was crying too when we were acting, and Papa said
we weren't to tease her with questions, and he kissed her hand, and I
kissed her hand too. And Papa said we must all be very good and kind
to poor dear Mamma, and so I mean to be, she's so good. And I think
we'd better go home, or perhaps she'll be frightened," Robin added.
"She's so good, is she?" asked the old man. He had put Pax off his knee,
and taken Dora on to it.
"Oh, isn't she!" said Nicholas, swaying his curly head from side to side
as usual.
"She's always good," said Robin, emphatically; "and so's Papa. But I'm
always doing something I oughtn't to," he added, slowly. "But then,
you know, I don't pretend to obey Sarah. I don't care a fig for Sarah;
and I won't obey any woman but Mamma."
"Who's Sarah?" asked the grandfather.
"She's our nurse," said Robin, "and she