"Now I want to talk," cried Bess, impatiently, "because I, too, know some of the games. We've often played at them, Nana and I and the maids, on Saturday afternoon when it was wet. There was Bell-horses. Nobody is so silly, mamsie, unless it's members of parliament or governesses, as not to know 'Bell-horses.'" Then my little maid slipped off the wooden bench on which she had been swinging her feet, and went and stood by little Harry. "Listen," she cried, and blurted forth at double quick pace-- [Sidenote: BELL-HORSES AND OTHER DELIGHTS] "'Bell-horses, bell-horses, what time of day? One o'clock, two o'clock, three and away. Bell-horses, bell-horses what time of day? Two o'clock, three o'clock, four and away.'" Then we stood up, and cried out-- "'Five o'clock, six o'clock, no time to stay.'" At this point Hals came and sat quietly by me on the edge of my sofa, and Bess went on. "Besides that we had Green Gravel, Green Gravel, and even Mrs. Burbidge says that is not a wicked game to play," cried Bess; and repeated the old lines with a funny little tilt of her head-- "'Green gravel, green gravel, the grass is so green, She is the fairest young lady as ever was seen. I'll wash her in milk, And I'll clothe her in silk, And I'll write down her name With a gold pen and ink.'" Then came what Bess called "them that laughed," who said-- "'O Sally, O Sally, your true love is dead, He sent you a letter to turn round your head.'" "I like that," remarked Bess. "The words are pretty. 'Green gravel, green gravel,' but I shouldn't like to be washed in milk, soap and water are bad enough, but I should like letters to be written with a pen of gold. They sound as if they ought to be letters all about holidays or Christmas presents; leastways, they never ought to be rude or disagreeable, or have anything to do with lessons.'" "Yes," agreed Harry, "written only for fun, and because everybody may do as they like." Then we discussed Wallflowers. And as the children stood talking, for Hals had run to Bess's side, old Nana came out of the Chapel Hall and joined our group. "It is time, mam, for them to be in bed," said Nana, sourly; "and I'm sure it will be a mercy if both childer are not ill to-morrow. By their own accounts they've eaten as many lolly-pops as they had a mind to. I did think as Mrs. Legarde had more sense than that. But them as feasts children, should physic 'em." "Wallflowers, wallflowers," interrupted Bess, rudely. "Come and amuse mama, poor mamsie hasn't had tea out, or done anything to please herself." So old Nana--whose bark, all the household acknowledges, is far worse than her bite--came and began to recite the old rhymes of her youth, and of the old days before that.