have?” said grandma, looking, so lively and happy, that it was very
evident “reminiscing” did her good.
“Let mine come last, and tell one for Tom next,” said Polly,
looking round, and beckoning him nearer.
He came and sat himself cross-legged on the floor, before the
lower drawer of the cabinet, which grandma opened for him,
saying, with a benign stroke of the curly head, “There, dear, that ‘s
where I keep the little memorials of my brother Jack. Poor lad, he
was lost at sea, you know. Well, choose anything you like, and I ‘ll
try to remember a story about it.”
Tom made a rapid rummage, and fished up a little broken pistol.
“There, that ‘s the chap for me! Wish it was n’t spoilt, then we ‘d
have fun popping away at the cats in the yard. Now, then,
grandma.”
“I remember one of Jack’s pranks, when that was used with great
effect,” said grandma, after a thoughtful pause, during which Tom
teased the girls by snapping the lock of the pistol in their faces.
“Once upon a time,” continued Madam, much flattered by the row
of interested faces before her, “my father went away on business,
leaving mother, aunt, and us girls to Jack’s care. Very proud he
was, to be sure, of the responsibility, and the first thing he did was
to load that pistol and keep it by his bed, in our great worriment,
for we feared he ‘d kill himself with it. For a week all went well;
then we were startled by the news that robbers were about. All
sorts of stories flew through the town (we were living in the
country then); some said that certain houses were marked with a
black cross, and those were always robbed; others, that there was a
boy in the gang, for windows, so small that they were considered
safe, were entered by some little rogue. At one place the thieves
had a supper, and left ham and cake in the front yard. Mrs. Jones
found Mrs. Smith’s shawl in her orchard, with a hammer and an
unknown teapot near it. One man reported that some one tapped at
his window, in the night, saying, softly, ‘Is anyone here?’ and when
he looked out, two men were seen to run down the road.
“We lived just out of town, in a lonely place; the house was old,
with convenient little back windows, and five outside doors. Jack
was the only man about the place, and he was barely thirteen.
Mother and aunt were very timid, and the children weren’t old
enough to be of any use, so Jack and I were the home-guard, and
vowed to defend the family manfully.”
“Good for you! Hope the fellows came!” cried Tom, charmed with
this opening.
“One day, an ill-looking man came in and asked for food,”
continued grandma, with a mysterious nod; “and while he ate, I
saw him glance sharply about from the wooden buttons on the
back-doors, to the silver urn and tankards on the dining-room
sideboard. A strong suspicion took possession of me, and I
watched him as a cat does a mouse.
“‘He came to examine the premises, I ‘m sure of it, but we will be
ready for him,’ I said, fiercely, as I told the family about him.
“This fancy haunted us all, and our preparations were very funny.
Mother borrowed a rattle, and kept it under her pillow. Aunt took a
big bell to bed with her; the children had little Tip, the terrier, to
sleep in their room; while Jack and I mounted guard, he with the
pistol, and I with a hatchet, for I did n’t like fire-arms. Biddy, who
slept in the attic, practised getting out on the shed roof, so that she
might run away at the first alarm. Every night we arranged pit-falls
for the robbers, and all filed up to bed, bearing plate, money,
weapons, and things to barricade with, as if we lived in war times.
“We waited a week and no one came, so we began to feel rather
slighted, for other people got ‘a scare,’ as Tom says, and after all
our preparations we really felt a trifle disappointed that we had had