yes upwards, he
espied Mr. Brook's powder on the mantelpiece, with the stereotyped
direction--"To be taken at bedtime." It was lying close to the jam-pot,
which the head-nurse had put ready. Of course he had the greatest
possible horror of medicine, and his busy thoughts began to run upon how
he might avoid that detestable powder. The little fellow was sitting on
the carpet playing with his bricks. Edward turned his eyes on his
brother, and a bright thought occurred to him.

"Regy," said he, taking down the pot, "come here. Look at this jam: isn't
it nice? It's raspberry and currant."

The child left his bricks to bend over the tempting compound.

"I'll give it you every bit to eat before nurse comes back," continued
the boy, "if you'll eat this first."

Reginald cast a look upon the powder his brother exhibited. "What is it?"
he lisped; "something good?"

"Delicious. It's just come in from the sweet-stuff shop. Open your
mouth--wide."

Reginald did as he was bid: opened his mouth to its utmost width, and the
boy shot in the powder.

It happened to be a preparation of that nauseous drug familiarly known
as "Dover's powder." The child found it so, and set up a succession of
shrieks, which aroused the house. The nurse rushed in; and Lord and Lady
Hartledon, both of whom were dressing for dinner, appeared on the scene.
There stood Reginald, coughing, choking, and roaring; and there sat
the culprit, equably devouring the jam. With time and difficulty the
facts were elicited from the younger child, and the elder scorned to deny
them.

"What a wicked, greedy Turk you must be!" ejaculated the nurse, who was
often in hot water with the elder boy.

"But Reginald need not have screamed so," testily interposed Lord
Hartledon. "I thought one of them must be on fire. You naughty child,
why did you scream?" he continued, giving Reginald a slight tap on the
ear.

"Any child would scream at being so taken by surprise," said Lady
Hartledon. "It is Edward who is in fault, not Reginald; and it is he who
deserves punishment."

"And he should have it, if he were my son," boldly declared the nurse, as
she picked up the unhappy Reginald. "A great greedy boy, to swallow down
every bit of the jam, and never give his brother a taste, after poisoning
him with that nasty powder!"

Edward rose, and gave the nurse a look of scorn. "The powder's good
enough for him: he is nothing but a young brat, and I am Lord Elster."

Lady Hartle