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"His feet!" shouted Tom O'Conor. "Yes; I know it's his feet," said that horrid Tizzy. "He's got on great thick nailed shoes. It was that that made him tumble down in the hall."
"Tom," said Tizzy, addressing her father across the table, "I hope you had a good run to-day." It did seem odd to me that young lady should call her father Tom, but such was the fact. "Well; pretty well," said Mr. O'Conor. "And I hope you were up with the hounds." "You may ask Mr. Green that. He at any rate was with them, and therefore he can tell you." "Oh, he wasn't before you, I know.
"My sisters," said Jack, introducing me very laconically; "Miss O'Conor, Miss Kate O'Conor, Miss Tizzy O'Conor." "My name is not Tizzy," said the younger; "it's Eliza. How do you do, sir? I hope you had a fine hunt! Was papa well up, Jack?" Jack did not condescend to answer this question, but asked one of the elder girls whether anything had come, and whether a room had been made ready for me.
'The old boy above there be half crazed, I think; he don't mean half as he says thof, not he. But I'm in a bad fix anyhow a regular sell it's been, and I can't get a tizzy out of him. So, ye see, I'm up a tree, Miss; and he sich a one, he'll make it a wuss mull if I let him.
Tizzy obeyed and the kite followed her. "Hoo-ray," shouted Ned, taking off his cap to give it a wave, when, crick! crack! the tree snapped twenty feet below him, and the next moment poor Ned was describing a curve in the air, for the wood and bark held the lower part like a huge hinge, while Ned clung tightly for some moments before he was flung outwards, to fall with a tremendous splash.
"Oh, I say, don't cry, Tizzy," protested Ned, at last, as he felt the hot tears trickling inside his white collar. "I can't help it, Teddy," she sobbed. "I did so want to see the kite fly!" "Never mind, pussy," said her brother; "I'll get the butterfly-net." "No, no," she sobbed; "please don't." "The rod and line, then, and you shall fish. I'll put on the worms."
They were in vain at first, for the poor child was utterly dazed, hardly recognising the friendly arms which had caught her up, till those arms gave her a good shake. "Master Ned! why don't you speak, child? where's your brother?" "Oh," shrieked Tizzy, "the water the water! Tumbled in." "Oh, my poor darling bairn!" cried Cook, hugging Tizzy to her, as she ran towards, the river.
There was now a loud laugh, in which Jack and Peter and Fanny and Kate and Tizzy all joined; as too did Mr. O'Conor and I also myself after a while. "Whose boots are they?" demanded Miss O'Conor senior, with her severest tone and grimmest accent. "'Deed then and the divil may have them for me, Miss," answered Larry. "They war Mr.
Don't you cry, little missy; he's on'y swallowed more water than's good for him. Now then, perk up, my lad." Poor Ned's eyes opened at this, and he stared wildly at the man, then, as if utterly bewildered, at Cook, and lastly at Tizzy, who clung sobbing to him, where he had been laid on the grass, streaming with water. "Tiz!" he cried faintly. "Teddy! Teddy!" she wailed. "Oh, don't die!
"Jack, do go out and see what is the matter. If anybody is drunk send for me." "Oh, there is nobody drunk," said Tizzy. Jack went out, and the coachman returned; but what was done and said I hardly remember. The whole room seemed to swim round and round, and as far as I can recollect the company sat mute, neither eating nor drinking. Presently Jack returned. "It's all right," said he.
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