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Page 15
"Be still, boys; how can Emma answer either of you, if you both keep up
such a fire of questions?"
Emma darted to her aunt's side, and eagerly whispered in her ear what
she had done with the paper; adding:--
"Do help me, aunty; you know if Oscar knew that, it would only make him
more angry."
Her aunt could not find it in her heart to blame Emma for the use she
had made of the paper.
"Come in, boys," she said, "and learn your lessons, and be quiet for a
while; I'll give you plenty of paper"; adding, as a farther argument,
"your father will be at home directly, and you know he will not want a
noise in the house."
They came in quietly enough, and soon the four brothers and sisters were
industriously at work over their lessons, around the table; even Oscar
forgetting Fani for the time, in the interest of his studies. It seemed
as if peace and quiet were ensured for the rest of the evening. But
suddenly the silence was disturbed by a harrowing cry from Rikli, who
pushed her chair back from the table, and ran out of the room into the
passage-way, as if some monster were after her. All looked up from their
work and looked around in alarm for the cause of the outburst.
"Here, here!" cried Emma, pointing to the table, where a shining green
gold-chafer was gravely walking over the white paper, evidently an
escaped prisoner from the pocket of the indefatigable collector.
"Oh, Fred! you shouldn't carry live creatures about in your pockets,"
said his mother, gently. "You have plenty of boxes for them. Just see
what discomfort you give your neighbors, to say nothing of yourself and
the poor little animals."
"Fred is nothing but a wandering menagerie-cage; and no decent person is
safe anywhere near him," said Oscar, returning to his book.
"At any rate, my collections are not all the time falling through and
coming to nothing, like your clubs," retorted Fred. "And see here,
mamma, what a handsome and useful little fellow this is; let me read you
what it says about him"; and Fred opened his book, which was always
close at hand:--
"'The gold-chafer, _Auratus_, with its arched wing-coverings, and its
strong pincers, lives upon caterpillars, larvae, and other injurious
insects, and thus makes itself very useful. But instead of being
protected on this account, as it deserves to be, it is everywhere
persecuted and trodden upon.' So you see, mamma."
"We will not persecute your chafer, Fred; but his place is not in your
pocket, nor on the study-table, my boy; take him away," said his mother;
and at the same time his aunt called to Rikli through the open door:--
"Come back, dear little girl, and don't behave as if a little beetle
could eat you up alive! If you go through life shrieking out over every
trifle, you will some time or other be punished for it; for no one will
pay any attention to your screams, even when there is something really
the matter."
Rikli came back into the room just as Fred was carrying the beetle out,
and, as they met in the door-way, Fred said:--
"I'll make up a poem about you. You are the musician with the sweet
tones of your voice, and I am a brother-artist, a poet"
"Yes, yes! a lovely piece of poetry can be made about your pockets full
of long-legged creatures, that come crawling out and stretch their
horrid long legs all over the table!"
"Of course there could," said Fred stoutly, and went off to lodge his
useful persecuted gold-chafer in his cabinet.
When the children were clearing away their work, before going to bed,
their mother said:--
"To-morrow afternoon is a holiday, and I want you, Emma, to go and visit
the little sick girl, Nora Stanhope; and it will be well for you to go
every holiday and Sundays too. She will be very glad to see you."
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