Bluff Crag; or, A Good Word Costs Nothing

  BLUFF CRAG;

  Or,

  A Good Word Costs Nothing.

  A Tale for the Young.

  by

  MRS. GEORGE CUPPLES,

  Author of "The Story of Our Doll," "The Little Captain,"Etc., Etc.

  London:T. Nelson and Sons, Paternoster Row;Edinburgh; and New York.1872.

  A SCENE AT BLUFF CRAG.]

  BLUFF CRAG.

  "This is such a capital night for a story, papa," said Robert Lincoln tohis father, who had laid away his newspaper and seemed inclined to takean extra forty winks.

  "Indeed, Robert," said Mr. Lincoln, smiling, "I wonder if you would evertire of hearing stories. I don't think I have one left; you and Lilyhave managed to exhaust my store."

  "O papa, please don't say that," cried Lily, who was putting away herschool-books on their proper shelf at the end of the room. "I am sure,if you shut your eyes and think very hard for a few minutes, you will besure to find one."

  "Very well, then, I shall try," said Mr. Lincoln; "perhaps there may beone among the cobwebs in my brain." Covering his face over with hisnewspaper, Mr. Lincoln lay back in his chair, and the children, drawingtheir stools closer to the fire, waited in patience to see the result ofhis meditation. It soon became evident, however, by his breathing, whichbecame louder and longer, that Mr. Lincoln was falling asleep, and whenat last he gave a loud snore, Robert could stand it no longer, andspringing up, pulled the newspaper away, exclaiming,--

  "O papa, you were actually going to sleep! You'll never find the storyif you do!"

  "I think, after all, I _must_ have dropped over," said Mr. Lincoln,rubbing his eyes; "but you are wrong in thinking I couldn't find a storyin my sleep, for I was just in the middle of such a nice one, when youwakened me, and, lo and behold, I found it was a dream."

  "Oh, do tell us what you dreamed, papa," said Lily. "Your dreams are sofunny sometimes. I think I like them better than the real stories."

  "But it was only a bit of a dream. Bob there in his impatience knockedoff the end, and I think it was going to be a very entertaining one."

  "I'll tell you how you can manage, papa," said Lily earnestly, "you canmake an end to it as you go along: you do tell us such nice stories outof your head."

  Mrs. Lincoln having come into the room with the two younger children, achair was placed for her and baby beside Mr. Lincoln. Little Dicktrotted off to Robert's knee, and the dog, Charley, hearing that a storywas going to be told, laid himself down on the rug before the fire, atLily's feet.

  WAITING FOR PAPA'S STORY.]

  "It's a very strange story, mamma," said Robert. "Papa fell asleep fortwo or three minutes, and dreamed the beginning of it. I am so sorry Iwakened him; but he gave such a loud snore, I never thought he could bedreaming when he did that."

  "Ah, but you are wrong there," said Mr. Lincoln, laughing; "you willhear the reason of the snore very soon. Well, then, to begin--but howcan I begin? Lily likes stories to set out with 'Once upon a time;' andyou, Master Bob, like me to mention the hero's name, and tell you howold he is, and describe him particularly. Now, in this case, I can doneither."

  "You will require to say, Once upon a time, when I was taking 'fortywinks,'" said Mrs. Lincoln, laughing. "I cannot see how you are torelate this strange story without a beginning."

  "Neither can I," said Mr. Lincoln. "You know everything depends upon agood beginning. Therefore I think I had better go to sleep again, andperhaps I shall dream one."

  "Oh, please, papa, don't; I am sure the one mamma suggested isfirst-rate," said Robert impatiently.

  "Very well, then, once upon a time I dreamed a dream--"

  "It's Joseph and his broders papa is going to tell us about," criedlittle Dick. "Oh, I like that."

  Every one laughed, while Robert explained that this was papa's dream,not Joseph's; which set the little fellow's mind wandering away stillmore into the favourite narrative, and it was only after a whisperedthreat from Robert that he would be taken up to the nursery if he didnot sit quiet and listen, that he consented to leave Joseph and hisbrethren alone for the present.

  "It's no use," said Mr. Lincoln, laughing, "somehow the dream has fled.I'll tell you what we shall do,--we shall ask mamma to tell one of herstories about when she was a little girl."

  "I should like to have heard the dream, papa," said Lily, "but if it hasfled away it won't be brought back. I know I never can get mine to do ittill perhaps just when I am not thinking about it, then there, it isquite distinctly."

  "Well, that will be the way mine may do," said Mr. Lincoln. "Come,mamma, we are waiting for yours. A good story-teller should beginwithout delay, and we all know what a capital one you are."

  "Very well, then," said Mrs. Lincoln. "You must know that when I was alittle girl I had been ill, and your grandmamma sent me to live with herbrother, my Uncle John, who was the rector of the neighbouring parish.Uncle John had no children, and his wife had died just a few weeksbefore I went to pay him this visit. He had been very fond of my aunt,and he was still very sad about her death; so that it would have beenrather a dull life but for Dolly, the housekeeper. Every morning afterbreakfast Dolly had to go for potatoes to a small field at a littledistance from the rectory, and she usually took me with her if the daywas fine. I ran about so much chasing butterflies and birds, that whenthe basket was filled I was quite tired out, and very glad to be placedupon the wheel-barrow and be taken home in this manner by thegood-natured Dolly.

  "And had you no little girl to play with, mamma?" asked Robert.

  COMING FROM THE POTATO-FIELD.]

  "Not for some time," replied Mrs. Lincoln. "Every one knew how sad myuncle was, and did not intrude upon him; but I never wearied so long asI had Dolly beside me. She could not read herself, but she was very fondof hearing me read to her, and though I could not do it very well then,I managed to make out the stories. Then your grandmamma had taught me anumber of hymns, and I used to repeat them, and sometimes to sing them,which pleased Dolly very much. I think it was overhearing me singingone of the hymns that made Uncle John take notice of me at last. Heused to shut himself in his study, and I scarcely ever saw him from oneweek's end to the other; but one day as he was going up-stairs I hadbeen singing, and he came into the parlour, and, taking me on his knee,asked me to sing the hymn over again. I was a little nervous at first,but grandmamma had always told me to do the best I could when asked torepeat or sing a hymn, and I did so now. I suppose the words of the hymnpleased him, for from that time he always had me to dine with him; andhe had such a kind manner, that I soon recovered from my shyness, andused to sit on his knee and prattle away to him as if he had been yourgrandpapa, and I had known him all my life. It made Dolly so pleased,too, for she said her master was beginning to look quite like his oldself; and she only hoped your grandmamma would allow me to stay ever solong with him.

  "One day Uncle John returned earlier than usual, and calling Dolly,said, 'Get Miss Lilian ready to go out. Mrs. Berkley wishes me to spendthe afternoon there, and I think it will do the child good. I fear shehas had but a dull time of it lately.'

  "'Oh, please don't say that, uncle!' I exclaimed. 'I would rather stayat home with Dolly;' for the thought of the grand Mrs. Berkley, who cameinto church with her powdered footman carrying her Bible behind her,frightened me.

  "'No, no, my child; you must go with me,' said Uncle John quietly. 'Itisn't good for you to be so much alone. You will have a good romp withsome young people who are staying with Mrs. Berkley at present.'

  "'But I shall be beside you, Uncle John, shall I not?' I asked, withtrembling lip.

  "'Why! are you afraid, dear? Come, come, this will never do; what isthere to
make you afraid? I am quite sure you will be sorry to leavewhen the hour comes for returning here.'

  "Mrs. Berkley's house stood upon a rising ground having a beautiful viewof the sea. The rectory was about a mile inland from it; but though Ihad been very anxious to go to the beach, Dolly had never been able tospare the time, and as for trusting Mary, the younger servant, to takeme, that was quite out of the question.

  "'I wonder if you could walk to Mrs. Berkley's,' said Uncle John. 'Ifso, we could go by the field-path, and so have a fine view of the sea.Do you think she could manage it,