Mr Sudberrys cheerful countenance fell. He had never eaten an egg without salt in his life, and did not believe in the possibility of doing so. Everyone ransacked everything in anxious haste.
Here it is! (hope revived.)
No, its only the pepper. (Mitigated despair and ransacking continued.)
Maybe itll be in this parcel, suggested McAllister, holding up one which had not yet been untied.
Oh! bring it to me, Mr Macannister! cried Mrs Sudberry with unwonted energy, for her happiness was dependent on salt that day, coupled, of course, with weather and scenery. Faugh! no, its your horrid onions, Mr MacAndrews.
Why, you have forgotten the potato salad, Mr Macdonald, exclaimed Lucy.
No, I have not: it can be made in five minutes, but not without salt. Where can the salt be? I am certain it could not have been forgotten.
The only individual of the party who remained calmly indifferent was Master Jacky. That charming creature, having made up his mind to feed on jam tart, did not feel that there was any need for salt. An attentive observer might have noticed, however, that Jackys look of supreme indifference suddenly gave place to one of inexpressible glee. He became actually red in the face with hugging himself and endeavouring to suppress all visible signs of emotion. His eye had unexpectedly fallen on the paper of salt which lay on the centre of the table-cloth, so completely exposed to view that nobody saw it!
Why, here it is, actually before our eyes! shouted George, seizing the paper and holding it up.
A small cheer greeted its discovery. A groan instantly followed, as George spilt the whole of it. As it fell on the cloth, however, it was soon gathered up, and then Mr Sudberry ordered everyone to sit down on the grass in a circle round the cloth.
What a good boy Jacky has suddenly become! remarked Lucy in some surprise.
Darling! ejaculated his mother.
A very good little fellow, said Flora, with a peculiar smile.
Jacky said nothing. Hectors eye was upon him, as was his upon Hector. Deep unutterable thoughts filled his swelling heart, but he spoke not. He merely gazed at the jam tart, a large portion of which was in a few minutes supplied to him. The immediate result was crimson hands, arms, and cheeks.
While Hector was engaged in concocting the potato salad the kettle upset, extinguished the fire, and sent up a loud triumphant hiss of steam mingled with ashes. Fortunately the potatoes were cooked, so the dinner was at last begun in comfortthat is to say, everyone was very hot, very much exhausted and excited, and very thirsty. Jacky gorged himself with tart in five minutes, and then took an opportunity of quietly retiring into the bushes, sheltered by which he made a détour unseen towards the place where the boat had been left.
Alas for the picnic party that day, that they allowed Hector to prevail on them to begin with his potato salad! It was partly composed of raw onions. After having eaten a few mouthfuls of it, their sense of taste was utterly destroyed! The chickens tasted of onions, so did the cheese and the bread. Even the whiskey was flavoured with onions. The beefsteak-pie might as well have been an onion-pie; indeed, no member of the party could, with shut eyes, have positively said that it was not. The potatoes harmonised with the prevailing flavour; not so the ginger-bread, however, nor the butter. Everything was oniony; they finished their repast with a sweet onion-tart! To make things worse, the sky soon became overcast, a stiff breeze began to blow, and Mr McAllister opined that there was going to be a squall.
A piercing shriek put an abrupt termination to the meal!
Intent on mischief; the imp had succeeded in pushing off the boat and clambering into it. For some time he rowed about in a circle with one oar, much delighted with his performances. But when the breeze began to increase and blow the boat away he became alarmed; and when the oar missed the water and sent him sprawling on his back, he gave utterance to the shriek above referred to. Luckily the wind carried him past the place where they were picnicking. There was but one mode of getting at the boat. It was at once adopted. Hector threw off his coat and vest, and swam out to it!
Ten minutes later, they were rowing at full speed for the foot of the loch. The sky was dark and a squall was tearing up the waters of the lake. Then the rain came down in torrents. Then it was discovered that the cloaks had been left at Hazlewood Creek, as the place where they had dined was named. To turn back was impossible. The gentlemens coats were therefore put on the ladies shoulders. All were soaked to the skin in a quarter of an hour. Jacky was quietbeing slightly overawed, but not humbled! His mother was too frightened to speak or scream. Mr Sudberry rubbed his hands and said, Come, I like to have a touch of all sorts of weather, and wont we have a jolly tea and a rousing fire when we get home? Mrs Sudberry sighed at the word home. McAllister volunteered a song, and struck up the Callums Lament, a dismally cheerful Gaelic ditty. In the midst of this they reached the landing-place, from which they walked through drenched heather and blinding rain to the White House.
Thus, drearily, the picnic ended!
Story 1Chapter 8.
Concerning Fowls and Pools
One morning the Sudberry Family sat on the green hill-side, in front of the White House, engaged in their usual morning amusementfeeding the cocks and hens.
It is astonishing what an amount of interest may be got up in this way! If one goes at it with a sort of philanthropico-philosophical spirit, a full hour of genuine satisfaction may be thus obtainednot to speak of the joy imparted to the poultry, and the profound glimpses obtained into fowl character.
There were about twenty hens, more or less, and two cocks. With wonderful sagacity did these creatures come to perceive that when the Sudberrys brought out chairs and stools after breakfast, and sat down thereon, they, the fowls, were in for a feed! And it was surprising the punctuality with which they assembled each fine morning for this purpose.