THE BOOK OF BETTY BARBER.
“We should get on all right,” said Summer, “if it didn’t look so like a lesson-book.”
“Never mind,” said Easter, “open the book the writing end, not the sum end, and let us try.”
And the three sisters really did try hard; but they could not keep still two minutes together, and something kept happening which made them laugh or tumble or play, or do anything but keep their eyes on the book. The Major began to get very much annoyed, and Miss Crimson Lake was pouting. Lucy did nothing but yawn and gape and rub her eyes, she was so desperately sleepy.
At last the Major rose once more from the ground. He said never a word, but he bowed to each fairy, to Lucy, and Miss Crimson Lake, and was about to walk away, when a shower of acorns, stones, and twigs came tumbling on his head.
“Dear me, dear me, a sudden storm!” said the Major.
“What is it?” said Miss Crimson Lake, looking rather alarmed.
“Bother,” said Christmas.
“Brother, you mean,” said Easter.
“And he always upsets everything,” said Summer.
“I rather like him,” said Lucy. “It’s the boy Half-term Holiday,” she whispered to Major C, “the others think he is a nuisance; but he never makes me feel sleepy, he’s so energetic and jolly.”
“How’s everybody?” called a boy’s voice, and Half-term came tumbling out of the tree, turned a somersault in the air, and dropped neatly on his feet.
“Hullo, here’s a book,” said the boy, “a lesson-book too. No, it isn’t. Well, I never!” And down sat the boy under the tree, and began to read the book as hard as he could.
“Isn’t he queer?” whispered Christmas. “Last time I saw him—and that’s some time ago, for nobody sees him very often—but last time I saw him he told me he hated books. He said the only thing he cared to do was to play cricket all day long.”
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