They no longer liked it, however; and very soon afterwards the jocose No. 5 observed, in subdued tones to the others:-

"I wonder what THE LITTLE VICTIMS would have said to this kind of thing?"

"They'd have hated it," answered No. 6, very decidedly.

The fact was, the little ones were getting really tired, for the fine May morning had turned into a hot day; and in a few minutes more, a still further aggravation of feeling took place.

No. 6 got up again, shook the gravel from her frock, blew it off her hands, pushed back a heap of heavy curls from her face, set her hat as far back on her head as she could, and exclaimed:-

"I wish there were no such things as weeds in the world!"

Everybody seemed struck with this impressive sentiment, for they all left off weeding at once, and Aunt Judy came forward to the front of the alcove.

"Don't you, Aunt Judy?" added No. 6, feeling sure her sister had heard.

"Not I, indeed," answered Aunt Judy, with a comical smile: "I'm too fond of cream to my tea."

"Cream to your tea, Aunt Judy? What can that have to do with it?"

The little ones were amazed.

"Something," at any rate, responded Aunt Judy; "and if you like to come in here, and sit down, I will tell you how."

Away went hoes and weeding-knives at once, and into the alcove they rushed; and never had garden-seats felt so thoroughly comfortable before.

"If one begins to wish," suggested No. 5, stretching his legs out to their full extent, "one may as well wish oneself a grand person with a lot of gardeners to clear away the weeds as fast as they come up, and save one the trouble."

"Much better wish them away, and save everybody the trouble,"

persisted No. 6.

"No: one wants them sometimes."

"What an idea! Who ever wants weeds?"

"You yourself."

"I? What nonsense!"

But the persevering No. 5 proceeded to explain. No. 6 had asked him a few days before to bring her some groundsel for her canary, and he had been quite disappointed at finding none in the garden. He had actually to "trail" into the lanes to fetch a bit.

This was a puzzling statement; so No. 6 contented herself with grumbling out:-

"Weeds are welcome to grow in the lanes."

"Weeds are not always weeds in the lanes," persisted No. 5, with a grin: "they're sometimes wild-flowers."

"I don't care what they are," pouted No. 6. "I wish I lived in a place where there were none."

"And I wish I was a great man, with lots of gardeners to take them up, instead of me," maintained No. 5, who was in a mood of lazy tiresomeness, and kept rocking to and fro on the garden-chair, with his hands tucked under his thighs. "A weed--a weed," continued he; "what is a weed, I wonder? Aunt Judy, what is a weed?"

Aunt Judy had surely been either dreaming or cogitating during the last few minutes, for she had taken no notice of what was said, but she roused up now, and answered:-

"A vegetable out of its place."

"A VEGETABLE," repeated No. 5, "why we don't eat them, Aunt Judy."

"You kitchen-garden interpreter, who said we did?" replied she. "All green herbs are VEGETABLES, let me tell you, whether we eat them or not."

"Oh, I see," mused No. 5, quietly enough, but in another instant he broke out again.

"I'll tell you what though, some of them are real vegetables, I mean kitchen-garden vegetables, to other creatures, and that's why they're wanted. Groundsel's a vegetable, it's the canary's vegetable. I mean his kitchen-garden vegetable, and if he had a kitchen-garden of his own, he would grow it as we do peas. So I was right after all, No. 6!"

That TWIT at the end spoilt everything, otherwise this was really a bright idea of No. 5's.

"Aunt Judy, do begin to talk yourself," entreated No. 6. "I wish No.

5 would be quiet, and not teaze."

"And he wishes the same of you," replied Aunt Judy, "and I wish the same of you all. What is to be done? Come, I will tell you a story, on one positive understanding, namely, that whoever teazes, or even TWITS, shall be turned out of the company."

No. 5 sat up in his chair like a dart in an instant, and vowed that he would be the best of the good, till Aunt Judy had finished her story.

"After which--" concluded he, with a wink and another grin.

"After which, I shall expect you to be better still," was Aunt Judy's emphatic rejoinder. And peace being now completely established, she commenced: "There was once upon a time--what do you think?"--here she paused and looked round in the children's faces.

"A giant!" exclaimed No. 8.

"A beautiful princess!" suggested No. 6.

"SOMETHING," said Aunt Judy, "but I am not going to tell you what at present. You must find out for yourselves. Meantime I shall call it SOMETHING, or merely make a grunting--hm--when I allude to it, as people do to express a blank."

The little ones shuffled about in delighted impatience at the notion of the mysterious "something" which they were to find out, and Aunt Judy proceeded:-

"This--hm--then, lived in a large meadow field, where it was the delight of all beholders. The owner of the property was constantly boasting about it to his friends, for he maintained that it was the richest, and most beautiful, and most valuable--hm--in all the country round. Surely no other thing in this world ever found itself more admired or prized than this SOMETHING did. The commonest pa.s.ser-by would notice it, and say all manner of fine things in its praise, whether in the early spring, the full summer, or the autumn, for at each of these seasons it put on a fresh charm, and formed a subject of conversation. 'Only look at that lovely--hm--' was quite a common exclamation at the sight of it. 'What a colour it has! How fresh and healthy it looks! How invaluable it must be! Why, it must be worth at least--' and then the speaker would go calculating away at the number of pounds, shillings, and pence, the--hm--would fetch, if put into the money-market, which is, I am sorry to say, a very usual, although very degrading way of estimating worth.

"To conclude, the mild-eyed Alderney cow, who pastured in the field during the autumn months, would chew the cud of approbation over the- -hm--for hours together, and people said it was no wonder at all that she gave such delicious milk and cream."

Here a shout of supposed discovery broke from No. 5. "I've guessed, I know it!"

But a "hush" from Aunt Judy stopped him short.

"No. 5, n.o.body asked your opinion, keep it to yourself, if you please."

No. 5 was silenced, but rubbed his hands nevertheless.

"Well," continued Aunt Judy, "that 'SOMETHING' ought surely to have been the most contented thing in the world. Its merits were acknowledged; its usefulness was undoubted; its beauty was the theme of constant admiration; what had it left to wish for? Really nothing; but by an unlucky accident it became dissatisfied with its situation in a meadow field, and wished to get into a higher position in life, which, it took for granted, would be more suited to its many exalted qualities. The 'SOMETHING' of the field wanted to inhabit a garden. The unlucky accident that gave rise to this foolish idea, was as follows:-

"A little boy was running across the beautiful meadow one morning, with a tin-pot full of fishing bait in his hand, when suddenly he stumbled and fell down.