Noble and exciting was the work of that dreary night. The wind blew, and the rain came; but, nothing daunted, the little heroes went long distances for their “plunder;” and, like bees in search of honey and wax, went and returned with all the delight and joy imaginable. Young Nelson was here and there, and everywhere; now guiding, now directing, now cautioning, and now cheering his little army. At last, by the time morning dawned—which was not very early at that time of the year—such a tremendous lot of matters were brought together as had never been known on any former occasion. It filled all the back avenue of the shrubbery, and there seemed almost enough of material to set a town on fire. Nelson, who beheld this accumulation of igneous matter, felt his heart beat with joy; and a thought suddenly seized him of bringing the whole into the play-ground, and of setting fire to it, to begin the day. This idea was no sooner communicated to his playmates than it was eagerly adopted; and, in less than half-an-hour, bushes, straw, branches of trees, blocks of wood, tarred palings, and a variety of odd things, such as it would be puzzling to describe, were piled up in the centre of the play-ground to the height of twenty feet, and with a base equal to it, so as to form a most noble pyramid. The day was breaking; and, just as the full light broke upon the pile, worthy of a Sardanapalus, all the merry workers felt proud of their labours. Some capered, some danced, some almost shrieked with joy; and Nelson, beholding the excitement, could not refrain, in the true spirit of a sailor that was to be, from crying out, at the top of his voice— “Three cheers for an old Guy! Hurrah for a bonfire!” Three cheers were immediately given, shrill and loud as the wild war-whoops of so many ferocious Indians. Again, and again—for, once begun, the youngsters seemed as if they could never leave off, and the welkin rang with the noise. Its effects had not been anticipated; and the cheering had scarcely subsided, when up flew a window, and in the centre of it appeared the head of the Reverend Doctor. In a moment the boys vanished, as if by instinct; and, rushing round the gable end of the premises, regained their bed-chamber by the same means they had escaped from it. Not so, however, with their leader. He only hid himself behind the laurels and evergreens; feeling it a point of honor not to leave the post of danger till the very last. At the same time, the Dominie kept vociferously shouting from his chamber-window— “You wicked boys! you shall all of you smart for this! I will flog every one of you who have dared to disobey my orders; and, as to a bonfire, you shall never have one as long as I live.” So saying, he disappeared from the window, with the intention of coming down to the court-yard; and ringing furiously at the bell to awaken the servants, and calling loudly for John and Richard, the groom and gardener, he made the best of his way down stairs.