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"Soldiers aren't alive," said Turly, as one tumbled over and he set it up again, "but I'm having a splendid battle." "Oh, Turly, how can you? Oh, I do so want things to be alive! Now, do just come over to the window and look down into the yard at Vulcan sitting in his kennel, poor dear, when he is longing to be running all over the world! Oh, I declare, he sees us, and is wagging his tail!
"You ridiculous boy! The box only holds enough bricks to build one house with." "I know that," said Turly placidly. "I build one house at a time, and I count the houses I've built till I know there is a street." "Oh, you silly! You are building the same house every time, and taking it down again. How can you be so baby as to call that building a street."
It was so high that they could just see the tops of the trees in the distance. "I shouldn't mind if I weren't so hungry," said Turly. "I suppose they will find us some time or other." "They'll never think of looking for us here, I'm afraid," said Terry. Turly ran over to the grate. "I say," he cried, "this is an awfully short chimney, and ever so wide.
"Here is all I've got!" and she flung its contents of shillings, sixpences, and coppers among the dancing youngsters, who scrambled and wrangled for them, and finally disappeared in a headlong scamper down the avenue. By this time Turly had got down from the car, disdaining the assistance of the women who came to moan over him.
"Shake your head out of it, Turly!" "I shook and shook, and it only gets tighter on. If I shake any more it will come down about my neck, and my eyes will be gone up into it, and my mouth and my nose!" Here was a state of things. Nurse looked ready to faint, as she thought of her boy being smothered before her eyes in a Benares pot.
Will the surgeon have to cut part of his head away? That is what surgeons do; they cut." Just as her thoughts had arrived at this excruciating point, the pot suddenly made a jerk and fell completely over Turly's face, covering his chin. Nurse and Terry shrieked, and Turly uttered some unintelligible sounds from within the pot. "He'll be smothered!" cried Nurse Nancy.
It was mounted on a walking-stick which was found in a corner, and then Turly began to climb the chimney. Notches in the stone enabled him to plant his feet, and after he had squeezed himself up some way, he thrust the stick with its white streamer through the opening above him. "It's all right!" he shouted down. "It's flying!"
In a very short time afterwards Terry and Turly came racing up the avenue and into the house and up the stairs in search of Nurse Nancy, who brought them into the nursery and cried over them, and was far too happy at seeing them again to think of scolding them. The children cried too, and told her their adventures.
Terry knew the trick of the hasp and it was quickly opened, and away they went, down flight after flight, into the yard. "Oh, I say, it is wet!" said Turly, as they paddled across the yard with the rain pouring on them. "Hush!" said Terry, "or someone will hear you and come running to prevent us. And it can't be any harm. It will be such a delightful treat for poor old Vulcan!"
Now what was to be done? No good works were possible. Nurse Nancy could think of nothing more diverting than story-books, and so Terry and Turly sat each on a stool beside the fire with a book, while Nancy went as usual to attend to her mistress.
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