"There's the thing," said Hugh. "When Miss Harold is here, I can think of nothing but fifty-six. It seems to sound in my ears, as if somebody spoke it, `four times seven is fifty-six.'" "You will make me get it by heart too, if you say it so often," said Agnes. "You had better say `twenty-eight' over to yourself all day long. You may say it to me as often as you like. I shall not get tired. Come, begin now--`four times seven'--" "I have had enough of that for to-day--tiresome stuff! Now, I shall go and play with Harry again." "But wait--just say that line once over, Hugh. I have a reason for wishing it. I have, indeed." "Mother has been telling Mr Tooke that I cannot say my multiplication-table! Now, that is too bad!" exclaimed Hugh. "And they will make me say it after dinner! What a shame!" "Why Hugh! You know mamma does not like--you know mamma would not--you know mamma never does anything unkind. You should not say such things, Hugh." "Ay, there! You cannot say that she has not told Mr Tooke that I say my tables wrong." "Well--you know you always do say it wrong to her." "I will go somewhere. I will hide myself. I will run to the market while the cloth is laying. I will get away, and not come back till Mr Tooke is gone. I will never say my multiplication table to him!" "Never?" said Agnes, with an odd smile and a sigh. "However, do not talk of running away, or hiding yourself. You will not have to say anything to Mr Tooke to-day." "How do you know?" "I feel sure you will not. I do not believe Mr Tooke will talk to you, or to any of us. There you go! You will be in the water-butt in a minute, if you tumble so." "I don't care if I am. Mr Tooke will not come there to hear me say my tables. Let me go!" he cried, struggling, for now Agnes had caught him by the ankle. "If I do tumble in, the water is not up to my chin, and it will be a cool hiding-place this hot day." "But there is Susan gone to lay the cloth; and you must be brushed; for you are all over dust. Come up, and I will brush you." Hugh was determined to have a little more dust first. He rolled once more the whole length of the leads, turned over Jane's stool, and upset her work-basket, so that her thimble bounded off to a far corner, and the shirt-collar she was stitching fell over into the water-butt. "There! What will Jane say?" cried Agnes, picking up the basket, and peeping over into the small part of the top of the water-butt which was not covered. "There never was anything like boys for mischief," said the maid Susan, who now appeared to pull Hugh in, and make him neat. Susan always found time, between laying the cloth and bringing up dinner, to smooth Hugh's hair, and give a particular lock a particular turn on his forehead with a wet comb. "Let that alone," said Hugh, as Agnes peeped into the butt after the drowning collar. "I will have the top off this afternoon, and it will make good fishing for Harry and me."