despair
at the idea of spending the livelong day, and day after day, for years
it might be, on the top of a long-legged stool. In fact, poor Charley
said that he "would rather become a buffalo than do it." Now this was
very wrong of Charley, for, of course, he didn't _mean_ it. Indeed, it
is too much a habit among little boys, ay, and among grown-up people
too, to say what they don't mean, as no doubt you are aware, dear
reader, if you possess half the self-knowledge we give you credit for;
and we cannot too strongly remonstrate with ourself and others against
the practice--leading, as it does, to all sorts of absurd exaggerations,
such as gravely asserting that we are "broiling hot" when we are simply
"rather warm," or more than "half dead" with fatigue when we are merely
"very tired." However, Charley _said_ that he would rather be "a
buffalo than do it," and so we feel bound in honour to record the fact.

Charley and Kate were warmly attached to each other. Moreover, they had
been, ever since they could walk, in the habit of mingling their little
joys and sorrows in each other's bosoms; and although, as years flew
past, they gradually ceased to sob in each other's arms at every little
mishap, they did not cease to interchange their inmost thoughts, and to
mingle their tears when occasion called them forth. They knew the
power, the inexpressible sweetness, of sympathy. They understood
experimentally the comfort and joy that flow from obedience to that
blessed commandment to "rejoice with those that do rejoice, and weep
with those that weep." It was natural, therefore, that on Mr Kennedy
announcing his decrees, Charley and Kate should hasten to some retired
spot where they could commune in solitude; the effect of which communing
was to reduce them to a somewhat calmer and rather happy state of mind.
Charley's sorrow was blunted by sympathy with Kate's joy, and Kate's joy
was subdued by sympathy with Charley's sorrow; so that, after the first
effervescing burst, they settled down into a calm and comfortable state
of flatness, with very red eyes and exceedingly pensive minds. We must,
however, do Charley the justice to say that the red eyes applied only to
Kate; for although a tear or two could without much coaxing be induced
to hop over his sun-burned cheek, he had got beyond that period of life
when boys are addicted to (we must give the word, though not pretty,
because it is eminently expressive) _blubbering_.