"Good for you, Rose! I know what you mean. We are going to have him up to show us how to fly the big kite, for we can't get the hang of it. Isn't he great fun, though?" "No, little Fun." "Come, stop joking, and show us what you've got." "You'd better hoist that fan for a sail." "Lend Dandy your umbrella; he hates to burn his pretty nose." "I say, uncle, are you going to have a Feast of Lanterns?" "No, I'm going to have a feast of bread and butter, for it's tea-time. If that black cloud doesn't lie, we shall have a gust before long, so you had better get home as soon as you can, or your mother will be anxious, Archie." "Ay, ay, skipper. Good-night, Rose; come out often, and we'll teach you all there is to know about rowing," was Charlie's modest invitation. Then the boats parted company, and across the water from the "Petrel's" crew came a verse from one of the Nonsense Songs in which the boys delighted. "Oh, Timballoo! how happy we are, We live in a sieve and a crockery jar! And all night long, in the starlight pale, We sail away, with a pea-green sail, And whistle and warble a moony song To the echoing sound of a coppery gong. Far and few, far and few Are the lands where the Jumblies live; Their heads are green, and their hands are blue, And they went to sea in a sieve." CHAPTER VIII. _AND WHAT CAME OF IT._ "UNCLE, could you lend me a ninepence? I'll return it as soon as I get my pocket-money," said Rose, coming into the library in a great hurry that evening. "I think I could, and I won't charge any interest for it, so you need not be in any hurry to repay me. Come back here and help me settle these books if you have nothing pleasanter to do," answered Dr. Alec, handing out the money with that readiness which is so delightful when we ask small loans. "I'll come in a minute; I've been longing to fix my books, but didn't dare to touch them, because you always shake your head when I read." "I shall shake my head when you write, if you don't do it better than you did in making out this catalogue." "I know it's bad, but I was in a hurry when I did it, and I am in one now." And away went Rose, glad to escape a lecture. But she got it when she came back, for Uncle Alec was still knitting his brows over the list of books, and sternly demanded, pointing to a tipsy-looking title staggering down the page,-- "Is that meant for 'Pulverized Bones,' ma'am?" "No, sir; it's 'Paradise Lost.'" "Well, I'm glad to know it, for I began to think you were planning to study surgery or farming. And what is this, if you please? 'Babies' Aprons' is all _I_ can make of it." Rose looked hard at the scrawl, and presently announced, with an air of superior wisdom,-- "Oh, that's 'Bacon's Essays.'"