Cousin Lucy's Conversations

CONVERSATION III

THE GLEN

Behind the house that Lucy lived in, there was a path, winding among trees, which was a very pleasant path to take a walk in. Lucy and Royal often went to take a walk there. They almost always went that way when Miss Anne could go with them, for she liked the place very much. It led to a strange sort of a place, where there were trees, and high, rocky banks, and a brook running along in the middle, with a broad plank to go across. Miss Anne called it the glen.

One morning Miss Anne told Lucy that she was going to be busy for two hours, and that after that she was going to take a walk down to the glen; and that Lucy might go with her, if she would like to go. Of course Lucy liked the plan very much. When the time arrived, they set off, going out through the garden gate. Miss Anne had a parasol in one hand and a book in the other. Lucy ran along before her, and opened the gate.

They heard a voice behind them calling out,

“Miss Anne, where are you going?”

They looked round. It was Royal, sitting at the window of a little room, where he used to study.

“We are going to take a walk, – down to the glen,” said Miss Anne.

“I wish you would wait for me,” said Royal, “only a few minutes; the sand is almost out.”

He meant the sand of his hour-glass; for he had an hour-glass upon the table, in his little room, to measure the time for study. He had to study one hour in the afternoon, and was not allowed to leave his room until the sand had all run out.

“No,” said Lucy, in a loud voice, calling out to Royal; “we can’t wait.”

“Perhaps we had better wait for him,” said Miss Anne, in a low voice, to Lucy. “He would like to go with us. And, besides, he can help you across the brook.”

Lucy seemed a little unwilling to wait, but on the whole she consented; and Miss Anne sat down upon a seat in the garden, while Lucy played about in the walks, until Royal came down, with his hatchet in his hand. They then walked all along together.

When they got to the glen, Miss Anne went up a winding path to a seat, where she used to love to sit and read. There was a beautiful prospect from it, all around. Royal and Lucy remained down in the little valley to play; but Miss Anne told them that they must not go out of her sight.

“But how can we tell,” said Royal, “what places you can see?”

“O,” said Miss Anne, “look up now and then, and if you can see me, in my seat, you will be safe. If you can see me, I can see you.”

“Come,” said Royal, “let us go down to the bridge, and go across the brook.”

The plank which Royal called a bridge, was down below the place where Miss Anne went up to her seat, and Royal and Lucy began to walk along slowly towards it.

“But I am afraid to go over that plank,” said Lucy.

“Afraid!” said Royal; “you need not be afraid; it is not dangerous.”

“I think it is dangerous,” said Lucy; “it bends a great deal.”

“Bends!” exclaimed Royal; “the bending does no harm. I will lead you over as safe as dry ground. Besides, there is something over there that I want to show you.”

“What is it?” said Lucy.

“O, something,” said Royal.

“I don’t believe there is anything at all,” said Lucy, “any more than there was under your cap.”

“O Lucy! there was something under my cap.”

“No, there wasn’t,” said Lucy.

“Yes, that great, flat stone.”

“In your cap, I mean,” said Lucy; “that wasn’t in your cap.”

“In!” said Royal; “that is a very different sort of a preposition.”

“I don’t know what you mean by a preposition,” said Lucy; “but I know you told me there was something in your cap, and that is what I came out to see.”

“Under, Lucy; I said under.”

“Well, you meant in; I verily believe you meant in.”

Lucy was right. Royal did indeed say under, but he meant to have her understand that there was something in his cap, and lying upon the great, flat stone.

“And so you told me a falsehood,” said Lucy.

“O Lucy!” said Royal, “I would not tell a falsehood for all the world.”

“Yes, you told me a falsehood; and now I don’t believe you about anything over the brook. For Miss Anne told me, one day, that when anybody told a falsehood, we must not believe them, even if they tell the truth.”

“O Lucy! Lucy!” said Royal, “I don’t believe she ever said any such a word.”

“Yes she did,” said Lucy. But Lucy said this rather hesitatingly, for she felt some doubt whether she was quoting what Miss Anne had told her, quite correctly.

Here, however, the children arrived at the bridge, and Royal was somewhat at a loss what to do. He wanted very much to go over, and to have Lucy go over too; but by his not being perfectly honest before, about what was under his cap, Lucy had lost her confidence in him, and would not believe what he said. At first he thought that if she would not go with him, he would threaten to go off and leave her. But in a moment he reflected that this would make her cry, and that would cause Miss Anne to come down from her seat, to see what was the matter, which might lead to ever so much difficulty. Besides, he thought that he had not done exactly right about the cap story, and so he determined to treat Lucy kindly.

“If I manage gently with her,” said he to himself, “she will want to come across herself pretty soon.”

Accordingly, when Royal got to the plank, he said,

“Well, Lucy, if you had rather stay on this side, you can. I want to go over, but I won’t go very far; and you can play about here.”

So Royal went across upon the plank; when he had got to the middle of it, he sprang up and down upon it with his whole weight, in order to show Lucy how strong it was. He then walked along by the bank, upon the other side of the brook, and began to look into the water, watching for fishes.

Lucy’s curiosity became considerably excited by what Royal was constantly saying about his fishes. First he said he saw a dozen little fishes; then, going a little farther, he saw two pretty big ones; and Lucy came down to the bank upon her side of the brook, but she could not get very near, on account of the bushes. She had a great mind to ask Royal to come and help her across, when all at once he called out very eagerly,

“O Lucy! Lucy! here is a great turtle, – a monster of a turtle, as big as the top of my head. Here he goes, paddling along over the stones.”

“Where? where?” said Lucy. “Let me see. Come and help me across, Royal.”

Royal ran back to the plank, keeping a watch over the turtle, as well as he could, all the time. He helped Lucy across, and then they ran up to the place, and Royal pointed into the water.

“There, Lucy! See there! A real turtle! See his tail! It is as sharp as a dagger.”

It was true. There was a real turtle resting upon the sand in a shallow place in the water. His head and his four paws were projecting out of his shell, and his long, pointed tail, like a rudder, floated in the water behind.

“Yes,” said Lucy. “I see him. I see his head.”

“Now, Lucy,” said Royal, “we must not let him get away. We must make a pen for him. I can make a pen. You stay here and watch him, while I go and get ready to make a pen.”

“How can you make it?” said Lucy.

“O, you’ll see,” said Royal; and he took up his hatchet, which he had before laid down upon the grass, and went into the bushes, and began cutting, as if he was cutting some of them down.

Lucy remained some time watching the turtle. He lay quite still, with his head partly out of the water. The sun shone upon the place, and perhaps that was the reason why he remained so still; for turtles are said to like to bask in the beams of the sun.

After a time, Royal came to the place with an armful of stakes, about three feet long. He threw them down upon the bank, and then began to look around for a suitable place to build his pen. He chose, at last, a place in the water, near the shore. The water there was not deep, and the bottom was sandy.

“This will be a good place,” he said to Lucy. “I will make his pen here.”

“How are you going to make it?” said Lucy.

“Why, I am going to drive these stakes down in a kind of a circle, so near together that he can’t get out between them; and they are so tall that I know he can’t get over.”

“And how are you going to get him in?” said Lucy.

“O, I shall leave one stake out, till I get him in,” answered Royal. “We can drive him in with long sticks. But you must not mind me; you must watch the turtle, or he will get away.”

So Royal began to drive the stakes. Presently Lucy said that the turtle was stirring. Royal looked, but he found he was not going away, and so he went on with his work; and before long he had a place fenced in with his stakes, about as large round as a boy’s hoop. It was all fenced, excepting in one place, which he left open to get the turtle through.

The two children then contrived, by means of two long sticks, which Royal cut from among the bushes, to get the turtle into his prison. The poor reptile hardly knew what to make of such treatment. He went tumbling along through the water, half pushed, half driven.

When he was fairly in, Royal drove down the last stake in the vacant space which had been left. The turtle swam about, pushing his head against the bars in several places; and when he found that he could not get out, he remained quietly in the middle.

“There,” said Royal, “that will do. Now I wish Miss Anne would come down here, and see him. I should like to see what she would say.”

Miss Anne did come down after a while; and when the children saw her descending the path, they called out to her aloud to come there and see. She came, and when she reached the bank opposite to the turtle pen, she stood still for a few minutes, looking at it, with a smile of curiosity and interest upon her face; but she did not speak a word.

CONVERSATION IV

A PRISONER

After a little while, they all left the turtle, and went rambling around, among the rocks and trees. At last Royal called out to them to come to a large tree, where he was standing. He was looking up into it. Lucy ran fast; she thought it was a bird’s nest. Miss Anne came along afterwards, singing. Royal showed them a long, straight branch, which extended out horizontally from the tree, and said that it would be an excellent place to make a swing.

“So it would,” said Miss Anne, “if we only had a rope.”

“I’ve got a rope at home,” said Royal, “if Lucy would only go and get it, – while I cut off some of the small branches, which are in the way.

“Come, Lucy,” he continued, “go and get my rope. It is hanging up in the shed.”

“O no,” said Lucy; “I can’t reach it.”

“O, you can get a chair,” said Royal; “or Joanna will hand it to you; she will be close by, in the kitchen. Come, Lucy, go, that is a good girl; and I’ll pay you.”

“What will you give me?” said Lucy.

“O, I don’t know; but I’ll give you something.”

But Lucy did not seem quite inclined to go. She said she did not want to go so far alone; though, in fact, it was only a very short distance. Besides, she had not much confidence in Royal’s promise.

“Will you go, Lucy, if I will promise to give you something?” said Miss Anne.

“Yes,” said Lucy.

“Well, I will,” said Miss Anne; “I can’t tell you what, now, for I don’t know; but it shall be something you will like.

“But, Royal,” she added, “what shall we do for a seat in our swing?”

“Why, we must have a board – a short board, with two notches. I know how to cut them.”

“Yes, if you only had a board; but there are no boards down here. I think you had better go with Lucy, and then you can bring down a board.”

Royal said that it would take some time to saw off the board, and cut the notches; and, finally, they concluded to postpone making the swing until the next time they came down to the glen; and then they would bring down whatever should be necessary, with them.

As they were walking slowly along, after this, towards home, Royal said something about Lucy’s not being willing to go for his promise, as well as for Miss Anne’s, – which led to the following conversation: —

Lucy. I don’t believe you were going to give me anything at all.

Royal. O Lucy! – I was, – I certainly was.

Lucy. Then I don’t believe that it would be anything that I should like.

Royal. But I don’t see how you could tell anything about it, unless you knew what it was going to be.

Lucy. I don’t believe it would be anything; do you, Miss Anne?

Miss Anne. I don’t know anything about it. I should not think that Royal would break his promise.

Lucy. He does break his promises. He won’t mend old Margaret’s nose.

Royal. Well, Lucy, that is because my putty has all dried up. I am going to do it, just as soon as I can get any more putty.

Lucy. And that makes me think about the thing in your cap. I mean to ask Miss Anne if you did not tell a falsehood. He said there was something in his cap, and there was nothing in it at all. It was only on the great, flat stone.

Royal. O, under, Lucy, under. I certainly said under.

Lucy. Well, you meant in; I know you did. Wasn’t it a falsehood?

Miss Anne. Did he say in, or under?

Royal. Under, under; it was certainly under.

Miss Anne. Then I don’t think it was exactly a falsehood.

Lucy. Well, it was as bad as a falsehood, at any rate.

Royal. Was it as bad as a falsehood, Miss Anne?

Miss Anne. Let us consider a little. Lucy, what do you think? Suppose he had said that there was really something in his cap, – do you think it would have been no worse?

Lucy. I don’t know.

Miss Anne. I think it would have been worse.

Royal. Yes, a great deal worse.

Miss Anne. He deceived you, perhaps, but he did not tell a falsehood.

Lucy. Well, Miss Anne, and isn’t it wrong for him to deceive me?

Miss Anne. I think it was unwise, at any rate.

Royal. Why was it unwise, Miss Anne? I wanted her to come out, and I knew she would like to be out there, if she would only once come. Besides, I thought it would make her laugh when I came to lift up my cap and show her that great, flat stone.

Miss Anne. And did she laugh?

Royal. Why, not much. She said she meant to go right into the house again.

Miss Anne. Instead of being pleased with the wit, she was displeased at being imposed upon.

Royal laughed.

Miss Anne. The truth is, Royal, that, though it is rather easier, sometimes, to get along by wit than by honesty, yet you generally have to pay for it afterwards.

Royal. How do we have to pay for it?

Miss Anne. Why, Lucy has lost her confidence in you. You cannot get her to go and get a rope for you by merely promising her something, while I can. She confides in me, and not in you. She is afraid you will find some ingenious escape or other from fulfilling it. Wit gives anybody a present advantage, but honesty gives a lasting power; so that the influence I have over Lucy, by always being honest with her, is worth a great deal more than all you can accomplish with your contrivances. So I think you had better keep your wits and your contrivances for turtles, and always be honest with men.

Royal. Men! Lucy isn’t a man.

Miss Anne. I mean mankind – men, women, and children.

Royal. Well, about my turtle, Miss Anne. Do you think that I can keep him in his pen?

Miss Anne. Yes, unless he digs out.

Royal. Dig? – Can turtles dig much?

Miss Anne. I presume they can work into mud, and sand, and soft ground.

Royal. Then I must get a great, flat stone, and put into the bottom of his pen. He can’t dig through that.

Miss Anne. I should rather make his pen larger, and then perhaps he won’t want to get out. You might find some cove in the brook, where the water is deep, for him, and then drive your stakes in the shallow water all around it. And then, if you choose, you could extend it up upon the shore, and so let him have a walk upon the land, within his bounds. Then, perhaps, sometimes, when you come down to see him, you may find him up upon the grass, sunning himself.

Royal. Yes, that I shall like very much. It will take a great many stakes; but I can cut them with my hatchet. I’ll call it my turtle pasture. Perhaps I shall find some more to put in.

Lucy. I don’t think it is yours, altogether, Royal.

Royal. Why, I found him.

Lucy. Yes, but I watched him for you, or else he would have got away. I think you ought to let me own a share.

Royal. But I made the pen altogether myself.

Lucy. And I helped you drive the turtle in.

Royal. O Lucy! I don’t think you did much good.

Miss Anne. I’ll tell you what, Lucy; if Royal found the turtle and made the pen, and if you watched him and helped drive him in, then I think you ought to own about one third, and Royal two thirds.

Royal. Well.

Miss Anne. But, then, Royal, why would it not be a good plan for you to let her have as much of your share as will make hers half, and yours half, to pay her for the trouble you gave her by the cap story?

Royal. To pay her?

Miss Anne. Yes, – a sort of damages. Then, if you are careful not to deceive her any more, Lucy will pass over the old cases, and place confidence in you for the future.

Royal. Well, Lucy, you shall have half.

Lucy clapped her hands with delight at this concession, and soon after the children reached home. The next day, Royal and Lucy went down to see the turtle; and Royal made him a large pasture, partly in the brook and partly on the shore, and while he was doing it, Lucy remained, and kept him company.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.