At the top of the house a very different scene was passing. Mrs. Macdonald's children and their four cousins had romped until they were tired, and were now silly enough to complain of being obliged to stop, and did not know what to do next; the elder children had good-naturedly joined in their games, and were too weary to tell stories, or continue their exertions in their behalf. The nurse had insisted on their not crowding too close to the fire, to which she maintained the baby and the tea-kettle had the best right. Little Alfred had asserted he was tired of his life, and his little cousins began crying with cold to which they were so unaccustomed, when the former started to his feet, expressing his determination that he would go to mama, who he was sure had candles, and would shew them the new puzzles papa gave them at Christmas. It was in vain to try and stop him, or to remind him that it was some time before the usual hour of going into the drawing room: the nursery was quite out of favour, and little feet hurrying down stairs, soon interrupted the ladies' conversation. Alfred was the first to enter, and was quite disappointed at finding the lamp had not been brought in; the chilly little natives of India crowded to the fender, and all contrived to secure a piece of the warm hearthrug, or a footstool. Alfred, to compensate for his troubles, seated himself on his mama's lap, and presently assured the circle, that he "would give the whole world, if papa would come home." "You are a silly little boy, Alfred," replied his mama; "if it were possible for you to possess the world, you would soon gladly relinquish it to any one who would take it from you. You had better learn to know more of the earth, its inhabitants, and their customs, before you undertake such a weighty charge." All laughed at poor Alfred, until his aunt silenced them, and declared that she thought his remark might lead to much pleasant instruction; she felt sure that many of the party knew but little of the globe on which they lived; "suppose we talk on the subjects of which you are so ignorant, instead of the stories we generally relate." Some murmured approbation; but one or two confessed they thought it would be rather like a lesson, and that their governess had that morning given them a long lecture on geography. Alfred boldly asserted that he did not like such subjects, and that he was very glad the next day's task would be history. "I long to see," he added, "what becomes of poor Charles I. I left him in prison; mama, will you tell me if he was ever made a king again?"