"Get out, Jemmy, I'll set him right;" and accordingly, Shelty's leg was lifted inside, and Paterfamilias commenced lunging him round and round before the door. After a few circles he said, "Now then, Jemmy, get in again; he's all right now."
The infant Jehu mounts, and of course commences pitching into Shelty, alike vigorously and harmlessly; off they go at score."
"Going to get some turnips for my pigs;" and Jemmy disappeared in a bend of the road.
On inquiry, I found Jemmy used often to go miles from home in this way, and was as well known in the neighbourhood as his father.
On another occasion, I remember seeing three lads, the oldest about twelve, starting off in a four-wheeled cart, armed with an old gun.
"What's that sticking out of your pocket?"
"A loaded pistol;" and off they went at full swing.
Thinks I to myself, if those lads don't break their necks, or blow their brains out, they will learn to take care of themselves; and I began to reflect whether this was the way they were taught to love independence.
Now for a sketch of the other sex. Two horses come to the door side-saddled. Out rush, and on jump, two girls under twelve. Young Ten, upon his Two-forty, is the chaperon. "Take care!" says an anxious parent. "Oh, I'm not afraid, mother;" and away they go, galloping about the park as if they were Persians. My mind turned involuntarily homewards, and I drew a picture from life. A faithful nurse stands at the door; a young lady about twelve is mounting; a groom is on another horse, with a leading-rein strong enough to hold a line-of-battle ship in a gale of wind. The old nurse takes as long packing the young lady as if she were about to make a tour of the globe; sundry whispers are going on all the time, the purport of which is easily guessed. At last all excuses are exhausted, and off they go. The lady's nag jog-trots a little; the nurse's voice is heard--"Walk, walk, that's a dear! walk till you're comfortable in the saddle. William, mind you don't let go the rein; is it strong enough?" William smothers a laugh; the procession moves funereally, the faithful nurse watching it with an expression betokening intense anxiety. "Take care, that's a dear!" and then, as the object of her solicitude disappears among the trees, she draws a long sigh; a mutter is heard--"some accident" are the only words distinguishable; a bang of the door follows, and the affectionate nurse is--what?--probably wiping her eyes in the passage.