thing appeared; so
every body wondered more and more how long they were to wait for all the
nice cakes and sweetmeats which must, of course, be coming; for the
longer they were delayed, the more was expected.

The last at a feast, and the first at a fray, was generally Peter Grey,
who now lost patience, and seized one of the two biscuits, which he was
in the middle of greedily devouring, when Laura returned with Harry to
the dining-room, and observed what he had done.

"Peter Grey!" said she, holding up her head, and trying to look very
dignified, "you are an exceedingly naughty boy, to help yourself! As a
punishment for being so rude, you shall have nothing more to eat all
this evening."

"If I do not help myself, nobody else seems likely to give me any
supper! I appear to be the only person who is to taste anything
to-night," answered Peter, laughing, while the impudent boy took a cup
of milk, and drank it off, saying, "Here's to your very good health,
Miss Laura, and an excellent appetite to everybody!"

Upon hearing this absurd speech, all the other boys began laughing, and
made signs, as if they were eating their fingers off with hunger. Then
Peter called Lady Harriet's house "Famine Castle," and pretended he
would swallow the knives like an Indian juggler.

"We must learn to live upon air, and here are some spoons to eat it
with," said John Fordyce. "Harry! shall I help you to a mouthful of
moonshine?"

"Peter! would you like a roasted fly?" asked Frank Abercromby, catching
one on the window. "I dare say it is excellent for hungry people,--or a
slice of buttered wall?"

"Or a stewed spider?" asked Peter. "Shall we all be cannibals, and eat
one another?"

"What is the use of all those forks, when there is nothing to stick upon
them?" asked George Maxwell, throwing them about on the floor. "No
buns!--no fruit!--no cakes!--no nothing!"

"What are we to do with those tea-cups, when there is no tea?" cried
Frank Abercromby, pulling the table-cloth till the whole affair fell
prostrate on the floor. After this, these riotous boys tossed the plates
up in the air, and caught them, becoming, at last, so outrageous, that
poor old Andrew called them a "meal mob." Never was there so much broken
china seen in a dining-room before! It all lay scattered on the floor,
in countless fragments, looking as if there had been a bull in a china
shop, when suddenly Mrs. Crabtree herself opened the door and walked in,
with an a