, in itself, was nothing; but on attempting to sneak in by the
back-door, he had rendered up his duckweed-bedabbled person into the
hands of an aunt, and had been promptly sent off to bed; and this, on
a holiday, was very much. The moral of the whipping-post was working
itself out; and I was not in the least surprised when, on reaching
home, I was seized upon and accused of doing something I had never even
thought of. And my frame of mind was such, that I could only wish most
heartily that I had done it.

A WHITE-WASHED UNCLE

In our small lives that day was eventful when another uncle was to come
down from town, and submit his character and qualifications (albeit
unconsciously) to our careful criticism. Previous uncles had been
weighed in the balance, and--alas!--found grievously wanting. There was
Uncle Thomas--a failure from the first. Not that his disposition was
malevolent, nor were his habits such as to unfit him for decent society;
but his rooted conviction seemed to be that the reason of a child's
existence was to serve as a butt for senseless adult jokes,--or what,
from the accompanying guffaws of laughter, appeared to be intended for
jokes. Now, we were anxious that he should have a perfectly fair trial;
so in the tool-house, between breakfast and lessons, we discussed
and examined all his witticisms, one by one, calmly, critically,
dispassionately. It was no good; we could not discover any salt in them.
And as only a genuine gift of humour could have saved Uncle Thomas,--for
he pretended to naught besides,--he was reluctantly writ down a hopeless
impostor.

Uncle George--the youngest--was distinctly more promising. He
accompanied us cheerily round the establishment,--suffered himself to be
introduced to each of the cows, held out the right hand of fellowship
to the pig, and even hinted that a pair of pink-eyed Himalayan rabbits
might arrive--unexpectedly--from town some day. We were just considering
whether in this fertile soil an apparently accidental remark on the
solid qualities of guinea-pigs or ferrets might haply blossom and bring
forth fruit, when our governess appeared on the scene. Uncle George's
manner at once underwent a complete and contemptible change. His
interest in rational topics seemed, "like a fountain's sickening pulse,"
to flag and ebb away; and though Miss Smedley's ostensible purpose was
to take Selina for her usual walk, I can vouch for it that Selina spent
her morning ratting