"What! after all that you said to Matty about the necessity of grates?"

"Ah, yes; they are needful enough, but they are not needed just at this moment. You may go on if you like it, I'll get my sugar-drops first. Set off now, I'll soon overtake you; I won't spend much time at Amus.e.m.e.nt's."

Nelly sighed, but she saw that there was no use in further entreaty, so she set forth alone. The path down hill was slippery and wet from the rain that had fallen at night--a sister's kind word, or a brother's strong arm, would have been a real comfort now to the lame little girl.

Often and often did Nelly turn and look behind her, to see if Lubin were not following after; but in vain she looked, not a sign appeared on the hill of the fat little sluggard.

Nelly came to the stream of Bother. The brook was muddy and swollen, and went racing on faster than usual. The stepping-stones were scarcely seen above the brown waters that eddied around them.

"Oh dear, oh dear; I wish that Lubin or d.i.c.k were with me!" cried poor Nelly, as she gave one more anxious glance behind her. "It is miserable to have to go alone across such a stream as this." She put her little foot upon the first stone, she fancied that it trembled beneath her weight--then on the next, she was almost in the water. It was nothing but a strong sense of duty that made the poor child go on. With trembling steps and dizzy brain she proceeded on her dangerous way, and great was her relief when she reached in safety the farther sh.o.r.e.

"One difficulty is happily past, but how shall I enter the great town all alone? how shall I climb the wearisome stair? how shall I face cold stern Mr. Arithmetic, with no brother or sister to back me?" such were the reflections of Nelly as she made her way slowly along the muddy lane of Trouble. Some of my readers may have experienced what a dull and discouraging thing it is to do business all by one's self in the town of Education.

One difficulty, however, Nelly found less great than she had expected it to be. It is a curious fact, but well known to all, that those who have once mounted Multiplication staircase never complain any more of its steepness. Nelly ascended it without a single stumble, till, when she had almost reached the top, she met her brother d.i.c.k coming down from Mr. Arithmetic's. What was her astonishment to see the strong boy laden with three grates fastened together, Division, Subtraction, Multiplication, placed one on the top of another!

"O d.i.c.k, you can never carry all that at once!"

"I do carry all at once, as you may see," replied d.i.c.k, with a smile of triumph; "I'd advise you to get out of my way, lest I knock you over the staircase."

"Surely, surely you can't bear that great burden across the swollen brook, or up the steep hill."

"Take no fears for me: I can't fail with the crown of Success in my view!" exclaimed d.i.c.k, bearing his three grates aloft, as some warrior might carry his banner.

"If you would only wait a few minutes for me," began Nelly, but d.i.c.k at once cut her short.

"I wait for n.o.body!" he cried, pushing past his lame little sister. "If you had been up this morning as early as I was, you might have enjoyed the pleasure of my company." And so saying, d.i.c.k and his iron grates went clattering down the staircase.

Alone poor Nelly entered the shop, alone she took up her purchase, and alone she descended the twelve flights of steps, trembling under the weight of Division, which she had found a much more serious burden than little Addition had been.

"How could d.i.c.k carry _three_ grates at a time," thought Nelly, "when one is almost more than I can support. But then I'm a poor, stupid, lame, little creature, and d.i.c.k--oh, d.i.c.k is a wonderful boy!"

CHAPTER XIV.

THE THIEF OF TIME.

When Lubin had said that he would not spend much Time money at Amus.e.m.e.nt bazaar, he had fully intended to keep his word. He meant to go steadily on his walk to Education, or, as we might call it, "do his lessons," so soon as he had had a little diversion. But let me advise all my dear young readers to put off their visits to Mrs. Amus.e.m.e.nt's till they have spent such hours as business requires in the town of Education. Let them count their money before they set out, spend a good portion of it wisely and well, and then, with light hearts and easy consciences, they may go to refresh and enjoy themselves at Mrs. Amus.e.m.e.nt's bazaar.

Which of us does not know that bazaar? It lies on the further side of hill Puzzle, very near to the cottages of Head, and a beautiful large cherry-tree hangs its branches over the door. The house is not lofty, but low and wide, with a mult.i.tude of bright little windows. It is divided within into numerous stalls, each possessing separate attractions. There is one much frequented by boys, where bats and b.a.l.l.s, bows and arrows, models of boats, and little bra.s.s guns are seen in great profusion. At another stall there are pretty dolls of every size and shape, wooden, wax, and gutta-percha; some made to open and shut their eyes, and some to utter a sound. There are few prettier sights than that of a number of rosy, good-humoured children, who have finished their lessons well, and are going, each with a bright hour or two in his hand, to the bazaar of Mrs. Amus.e.m.e.nt.

The stall that most attracted fat Lubin was one at which sweetmeats were sold: raspberry, strawberry, pine-apple drops, bull's-eye, pink rock, and chocolate sticks, barley-sugar twisted into shapes more various than I can describe or remember. Lubin had taken his five minutes in his hand, and now spent them easily enough; but there were more, oh, many more things that he thought that he would like from the stall. He went humming on as he examined the sweetmeats a favourite proverb of his, "All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy." But the fat little dunce might have added, "All play and no work will make Lubin a duller."

Full of interest in all that he saw, with his eyes greedily fixed on the stall, Lubin did not notice a lean, small figure, which, softly as a serpent on the gra.s.s, had stolen up to his side. This was no other than Procrastination, a pickpocket well known to the police, who had often been caught in the very act of robbing her Majesty's subjects of Time, had been tried and sent to prison, but on getting out had always returned to his bad occupation again. The poet Young long ago set up a placard to warn men to take care of their pockets, giving notice to all concerned that "_Procrastination is the thief of Time_;" but, in spite of this warning, there are few amongst us who must not own with regret that the stealthy hand of Procrastination has robbed us of many an hour.

Have you never suffered from Procrastination, good reader? It is he who makes us _put off_ till to-morrow what ought to be done to-day. It is he who whispers, "It will be time enough," when a duty should be performed directly. If you are aware, at this very moment, while you sit with this book in your hand, that you ought to be busy with Arithmetic, or should write a letter to a friend, or do some little piece of business, start up without an instant's delay, shut this book with a clap; perhaps you may then catch between its leaves the sly fingers of thief Procrastination.

Poor Lubin was not on his guard: he noticed not the form that crept after him as noiselessly as a shadow. Procrastination took the opportunity when the boy's attention was most engaged with the sweetmeats, to draw out Time's fairy purse, and rifle it of its precious contents. Silently then he replaced the purse emptied for that day, in hopes, perhaps, that when the morrow filled it with new hours and minutes, he might rob its possessor again of the treasure which he guarded so badly.

"Well, now," exclaimed Lubin, "I can't stop much longer, for I promised Nelly to follow her quickly, and I know that I ought to be at Mr.

Arithmetic's by this time. I'll just spend two or three minutes more on those sugar-plums shaped like marbles, and then away to my business and work like a man."

So Lubin plunged his fat hand into his pocket, and drew forth his purse of Time. In went his fingers, fumbling about to pull out the minutes that he wanted, but he fumbled and felt in vain--not an hour was left--not a single little minute, to pay for what he required.

"It's that rogue Procrastination who has robbed me!" exclaimed the indignant boy, as turning sharply round he caught a glimpse of a slim little figure sneaking round the corner of a counter.

Lubin instantly gave chase. Fat as he was, it was wonderful to see how he dodged the pickpocket, first round this stall, then round that, shouting all the time, "Stop, thief! stop, thief!" as loudly as he could bawl. I need scarcely add that all the boy's efforts were useless. Who ever yet recovered lost Time? Out of breath and out of heart, poor Lubin stopped panting at last; Procrastination had had a fair start, and carried off his spoil in triumph.

"There's no use in attempting to go to Education to-day, I've not a minute left," was Lubin's sorrowful reflection. "Oh, that I had started with my sister, had thought of my business before my play, what useful things I might then have bought with the hours which are now lost to me for ever!"

CHAPTER XV.

DUTY AND AFFECTION.

In the meantime, poor Nelly had been wearily wending her way along the lane of Trouble, with her burdensome Division on her shoulder. She felt, as many a little student has felt, quite out of humour for work; her arms ached, and so did her head; the mud in the lane was so deep that she could scarcely keep on her shoes, and she sometimes sank in it almost up to her ankle.

Thus in sorrowful plight the lame girl at last reached the brook of Bother. Its brown turbid waters looked rougher and deeper and dirtier than they ever had done before. The stepping-stones had almost disappeared!

Nelly Desley heaved a long weary sigh as she looked before her, and rubbed her forehead very hard, as puzzled children are wont to do.

"Oh, this tiresome Division, how shall I ever manage it! I never saw Bother so bad. _Nine's in fifty-nine_"--another violent rub; "I know what will be _in_, a poor little girl will be in brook Bother!--and _what's to be carried_? why this grate is to be carried, and a very _great_ vexation it is."

Weary Nelly sat down, almost in despair, on a stone by the bank of the stream. What object attracted her eye, some yards lower down the current of the brook, round which the muddy waves were eddying and rolling?

"Why--can it be?--yes, there are d.i.c.k's three grates all together, Division, Multiplication, and Subtraction!" Nelly started up in alarm: "Oh, what can have become of my brother?"

A little reflection soon rea.s.sured Nelly. d.i.c.k, the most active of boys, and a famous swimmer besides, could not have come to much harm in a brook in which, though many have been ducked, no one has ever yet been quite drowned. It seemed clear that the boy had found the weight which, prompted by Pride, he had tried to carry, somewhat too much for his strength; and, being unable to carry it across the waters of Bother, had flung down his tiresome burden, which, by the force of its own weight, had stuck fast in the mud of the brook.

"Well, if d.i.c.k has failed, I need not mind failing," cried Nelly. "I think that I'll do what he has done, and fling away this horrid Division,--oh, what a relief that would be! But still, would it not be foolish--would it not be wrong--to give way so to impatience? My dear mother bade me obey Mr. Learning for her sake, she wishes my cottage to be properly furnished; I must not be a sluggard or a coward. I must do my best to get over this Bother."

"Well resolved--bravely resolved," said a voice on the other side of the brook; and from behind the clump of willows which drooped their long branches in the stream, Nelly saw two beautiful maidens come forth. They were like, and yet unlike, each other. Both were very fair to look on, both of n.o.ble height and graceful mien; but the one had an air of more stately dignity, such as might beseem a queen; and her large dark eyes looked graver and more thoughtful than those of her sister. The other had smiling soft blue eyes, beaming with tender love, and the sunlight fell on her golden hair till it seemed like a glory around her.

These lovely maidens were no strangers to Nelly, almost from her infancy she had looked upon them as friends; many sweet counsels and good gifts had the lame little girl received from Duty and Affection.

"Oh, Duty!" exclaimed Nelly, who was rejoiced to find herself no longer alone, "only show me how I can get across, and I will not mind labour or trouble."

Duty retired for a few moments to her retreat behind the willows, and then returned, bearing on her shoulder a narrow plank. With the help of smiling Affection she placed this across the stream.

"This plank, dear child," said calm, stately Duty, "was cut from the tree of Patience, and small as it seems, can well support your weight.

Boldly venture upon it; the stream runs fast to-day, you are no longer able to ford it, but on the plank of Patience you safely can pa.s.s across."

Giddy and tired as she felt, Nelly instantly obeyed the voice of Duty, and placed her foot on the plank. Duty leant forward, and held out her firm hand to aid her, and soon the trembling child and her wearisome burden were safe on the bank nearest to the cottages of Head.

"Oh, I am so glad to be well over!" exclaimed Nelly, and with exceeding pleasure she looked up in the face of Duty, and smiled.