in another
house, better sheltered from the wind, and one of their children, now
married, had settled there instead. I was tossed about for a long while,
for no one now living knew my real history, and had therefore little
value for me, and indeed I was more especially held in dislike by the
young ones, as affording them just that taste of "the rope's end" that
they did not covet.

"The end of my career was that of being tied round a box, when one of
the daughters went to service, and left Rocksand, and thus I came to
town. My life here had nothing remarkable in it; I was put to my present
use one day when one of the young Spensers was taken with a passion for
skipping. They declared I was heavier and better than all the smart
skipping-ropes to be bought at the toy shop, and made such continual use
of me, that I am really almost threadbare. But I was poked away in this
cupboard on the occasion of some great nursery clearing, and here I have
lived ever since."

"How you must have regretted your freedom," said the Kite, in a
sympathising tone; "I feel myself sometimes quite what I may call
sky-sick! I would give all my tassels and fringes for one more good
flight through the clear air. When I think of the bright sun, and the
nice fleecy clouds, I am almost inclined to tumble to pieces for grief,
to think I can't get out of this horrid, dusty stuffy hole of a toy
cupboard, as they call it! A prison _I_ consider it, and a cruel one
too!"

"I _would_ give anything I could," sighed the old Skipping-rope, "for
even one breath of the fresh salt sea breeze. I think of the dancing
waves glittering in the sun, till I feel quite giddy. But it is no use
repining, and after all, really this little break on the monotony of our
existence is very pleasant."

"It _is_ very pleasant," assented the Ball, "but I am afraid our time
to-night at any rate grows very short, for it is almost dark, and that
terrible old woman will be coming back. So with your leave, my friends,
I will call upon the Humming Top for his story."

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

CHAPTER XIII.

THE HUMMING TOP'S HISTORY.

The Humming Top, who had begun to fear he should not be allowed a chance
of speaking at all, and who felt just a little put out at coming so late
in the list, gave himself a majestic twirl, and spun for a minute or two
before he condescended to speak. At last, when he had reached a
commanding position, he leaned gracefully back,