ecause I
feel as if I had slept a week at least; and not being one of the seven
sleepers, I don't think it necessary to do more in that way just now.
Besides, my sweet but particularly wicked sister, I wish just at this
moment to have a talk with you."

"But are you sure it won't do you harm to talk? do you feel quite strong
enough?"

"Quite: Samson was a mere infant compared to me."

"Oh, don't talk nonsense, Charley dear, and keep your hands quiet, and
don't lift the clothes with your knees in that way, else I'll go away
and leave you."

"Very well, my pet, if you do I'll get up and dress and follow you,
that's all! But come, Kate, tell me first of all how it was that I got
pitched off that long-legged rhinoceros, and who it was that picked me
up, and why wasn't I killed, and how did I come here; for my head is
sadly confused, and I scarcely recollect anything that has happened.
And before commencing your discourse, Kate, please hand me a glass of
water, for my mouth is as dry as a whistle."

Kate handed him a glass of water, smoothed his pillow, brushed the curls
gently off his forehead, and sat down on the bedside.

"Thank you, Kate; now go on."

"Well, you see--" she began.

"Pardon me, dearest," interrupted Charley, "if you would please to look
at me you would observe that my two eyes are tightly closed, so that I
don't _see_ at all."

"Well, then, you must understand--"

"Must I? oh!--"

"That after that wicked horse leaped with you over the stable fence, you
were thrown high into the air, and turning completely round, fell head
foremost into the snow, and your poor head went through the top of an
old cask that had been buried there all winter."

"Dear me!" ejaculated Charley; "did any one see me, Kate?"

"Oh yes."

"Who?" asked Charley, somewhat anxiously; "not Mrs Grant, I hope? for
if she did she'd never let me hear the last of it."

"No; only our father, who was chasing you at the time," replied Kate,
with a merry laugh.

"And no one else?"

"No--oh yes, by-the-bye, Tom Whyte was there too."

"Oh, he's nobody! Go on."

"But tell me, Charley, why do you care about Mrs Grant seeing you?"

"Oh! no reason at all, only she's such an abominable quiz."

We must guard the reader here against the supposition that Mrs Grant
was a quiz of the ordinary kind. She was by no means a sprightly,
clever woman, rather fond of a joke than otherwise, as the term might
lead you to suppose. Her corp