s you do not know. It seems only a grand old place; and it is
capital fun to search in its corners, and drag out some bit of quaint
old furniture, with a leg broken, and lay a cushion across it, and fix
your reins upon the lion's claws of the feet, and then--gallop away! And
you offer sister Nelly a chance, if she will be good; and throw out very
patronizing words to little Charlie, who is mounted upon a much humbler
horse,--to wit, a decrepit nursery-chair,--as he of right should be,
since he is three years your junior.

I know no nobler forage-ground for a romantic, venturesome, mischievous
boy, than the garret of an old family mansion on a day of storm. It is a
perfect field of chivalry. The heavy rafters, the dashing rain, the
piles of spare mattresses to carouse upon, the big trunks to hide in,
the old white coats and hats hanging in obscure corners, like
ghosts,--are great! And it is so far away from the old lady who keeps
rule in the nursery, that there is no possible risk of a scolding for
twisting off the fringe of the rug. There is no baby in the garret to
wake up. There is no "company" in the garret to be disturbed by the
noise. There is no crotchety old Uncle, or Grand-Ma, with their
everlasting "Boys, boys!" and then a look of such horror!

There is great fun in groping through a tall barrel of books and
pamphlets, on the look-out for startling pictures; and there are
chestnuts in the garret drying, which you have discovered on a ledge of
the chimney; and you slide a few into your pocket, and munch them
quietly,--giving now and then one to Nelly, and begging her to keep
silent,--for you have a great fear of its being forbidden fruit.

Old family garrets have their stock, as I said, of castaway clothes of
twenty years gone by; and it is rare sport to put them on; buttoning in
a pillow or two for the sake of good fulness; and then to trick out
Nelly in some strange-shaped head-gear, and old-fashioned brocade
petticoat caught up with pins; and in such guise to steal cautiously
down-stairs, and creep slyly into the sitting-room,--half afraid of a
scolding, and very sure of good fun,--trying to look very sober, and yet
almost ready to die with the laugh that you know you will make. And your
mother tries to look harshly at little Nelly for putting on her
grandmother's best bonnet; but Nelly's laughing eyes forbid it utterly;
and the mother spoils all her scolding with a perfect shower of kisses.

After this yo