to a rope by his heels, turning
somersaults in the air, and frightening his mother out of her wits by
his pranks. I suspect that he has been to see Leotard, and I admire his
energy, for he is never discouraged; and, after tumbling flat,
half-a-dozen times, he merely rubs his elbows and knees, and then up and
takes another.

There is a good, domestic boy, who brushes and curls his three little
sisters' hair every morning, and must do it very gently, for they seem
to like it; and I often see them watch at the back gate for him, and
clap their hands, and run to meet him, sure of being welcomed as little
sisters like to be met by the big brothers whom they love. I respect
that virtuous boy.

The naughty boy is very funny; and the running fight he keeps up with
the cross cook is as good as a farce. He _is_ a torment, but I think she
could tame him, if she took the right way. The other day she wouldn't
let him in because she had washed up her kitchen and his boots were
muddy. He wiped them on the grass, but that wouldn't do; and, after
going at her with his head down, like a battering ram, he gave it up, or
seemed to; for, the minute she locked the door behind her and came out
to take in her clothes, that sly dog whipped up one of the low windows,
scrambled in, and danced a hornpipe all over the kitchen, while the fat
cook scolded and fumbled for her key, for _she_ couldn't follow through
the window. Of course he was off upstairs by the time she got in; but
I'm afraid he had a shaking, for I saw him glowering fiercely as he came
out later with a basket, going some 'confounded errand.' Occasionally
his father brings him out and whips him for some extra bad offence,
during which performance he howls dismally; but when he is left sitting
despondently and miraculously on an old chair without any seat, he soon
cheers up, boos at a strange cat, whistles to his dog,--who is just like
him,--or falls back on that standing cure for all the ills that boys are
heir to, and whittles vigorously. I know I ought to frown upon this
reprehensible young person, and morally close my eyes to his pranks;
but I really can't do it, and am afraid I find this little black sheep
the most interesting of the flock.

The girls have tea-parties, make calls, and play mother, of course; and
the sisters of the good boy have capital times up in a big nursery, with
such large dollies that I can hardly tell which are the babies and which
the mammas. One littl