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The Children of the Castle

Chapter 8 MASTER PHIL.

Word Count: 3343    |    Released on: 04/12/2017

rom the worl

ocus, and se

shrinking i

t know the se

s bathed in

blue, and gol

had no reason to complai

erself more heartily than ever o

that Sister Grizzel might

lso, that grumbling, as things are at present arranged in this world, does not always, nor I may say often, do good; furthermore, that an ill-tempered c

hould be so scolded and reviled for faithfully doing his best, as he often is, I really don't know. Not that all the ill words he gets have much effect on him-he comes again just

tle of the outside of her aunt's house; and charming as the inside was, the outside, I must say, was still "charminger." There seemed no end to the little up-and-down paths and alleys, leading to rustic seats and quaint arbours; no limits to the little pine-

ere the famous roses grew; but lovely as the roses were (I am speaking just now, of course, of later on in the summer, when they were all in blo

el, who was of opinion that smell was not a pr

did not want to spoil them, both for her aunt's sake, and because, too, she had a greater regard for flowers now

bowling-green with her eyes shut, from the arbour at one side to the arbour exactly like it at the othe

h. She had lessons, of course, just as many as in the winter; but with the long days, there seemed to come a quite unaccountable increase of play-time, and Griselda sometime

the fine days are come and I can play in the garden; and certainly,

g to the cottage of Red-Ridinghood's grandmother, or a path leading to fairyland itself. There were all kinds of queer, nice, funny noises to be heard there-in one part of it especially, where Griselda

nd the tinkling of the brook in the distance sounded like the enchanted bells round the necks of the fairy kine, who are sent out to pasture sometimes on the upper world hill-sid

as not forgotten by the

out, rather dull and lonely. For though it was only May, it was really quite a hot day, and Griselda had been all the morning at her lessons, and had tried v

f real "flesh and blood" cuckoos to explain, that bird was not known in the neighbourhood where Griselda's aunts lived. Some twenty miles or so further south i

elf. "He must be coming out to speak to me.

was, "Cuckoo, cuckoo," as plain as

k to me. It's such a long time since I hav

da held her breath to listen, b

tricking me, I do believe; and to-day t

ing to see the cuckoo himself. But it was not he. The rustling went on for a minute or two without anything making its appearance, for the bushes were pretty thick just there, an

ng for another minute in perfect stillness, afraid of startling by the slightest movement the squirrel or rabbit or creature of some kind which she expected to see. At last-was t

deed, but a very sturdy, very

though not by any means all his clothes, free of the bushes (for ever so many pieces of jacket and knickerbocker

was months since she had spoken to a child, almost since she had seen one, and

RE THAT

e, and having only big brothers ol

at last. "What's your na

answered the little boy. "He camed up this way.

y aunts' garden. No one is allowed to come here but friends of t

"this are a wood. There are blue-bells and primroses here, and that shows it aren'

d Griselda, gett

This path leads down to the wood, and there's a door in the wall at the bottom to get into

o," said the little boy. "I d

d face puckered up. Griselda's heart smote her; she looked at him more carefully

are you?"

I'll have one after next summer too. Do you ever have birthdays?" he went on, peering

ruth, from "Master Phil's" appearance, she had not felt at all sure what

o big, though. People leave off having nurses and mothers when they're big, don't they? Just like birthdays. But I won't. I won't never leave off hav

left off when I was much littler than you," she went on, unconsci

he will 'cold me to-day, won't she?" he added, laughing, pointing to the terrible rents in his garments. "These are my very oldestest things; that's a good thing, isn't

her away?" s

to take care of me at the farmhouse, you know. Mother was

armhouse? Have you anybody

said. "I'd like to play with you if you're not too big. And do you

about the cuckoo

I thought I'd come. And do you know," he added mysteriously, "I do believe the cucko

ourselves," said Griselda, quite f

tement. "Do you know him, then? and

understand," she said. "Some day perhaps I

mossy stone. "You'll let me come, won't you? I like to talk about fairies, and nurse doesn't un

call you?" a

hen I woke up I heard him calling me, and I wasn't d'eaming then. And then when I was in the field he called me, but I couldn't find him, and nurse said 'Nonsense.' And to-d

," said Grise

eal to learn first

with increased respect. "I don't know scarcely nothing. Mother was ill such a long time before s

n bring some of my old books and teach yo

Phil, clapping his hands. "Oh, do. And when I've learnt to read a gr

ld help. I think," she went on, lowering her voice a little, and looking down gravely into Phi

han you?"

nd lots gooder than m

ed Phil, in a parenthesis. Then he

than m

, so how can I tell how g

ly. "She is just as good as-as good as

n't be better," sai

e. Would that be good enough

good thing for you to learn to read. You must ask your nurse to let

where I am, and I needn't tell her. She doesn't care what I do,

lda gravely. "You'll never be as go

n? Tell me," said the l

r I'm much bigger than you, and I won't let you tear your clothes.

oh see!" he exclaimed, darting off, "there'

y. And when they were tired they sat down again and gathered flowers for nosegays, and Griselda was surprised to find how clever Phil was about it. He was much quicker than she at spying out the prettiest bl

" she said; "how do you kn

he said innocently. "And then, you kn

he led little Phil down the wood-path, and thro

out scrambling through any more bush

all I?" asked Phil. "I'll know when-after I've had my dinner and raced thr

to race just when you've had your dinner," observed Griselda sagely. "And you mustn't try to come if it isn't fine

y to remember all those things. I'm so glad you'll play w

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The Children of the Castle
The Children of the Castle
“"Hast thou seen that lordly castle, That castle by the sea? Golden and red above it The clouds float gorgeously." Do you remember Gratian—Gratian Conyfer, the godson of the four winds, the boy who lived at the old farmhouse up among the moors, where these strange beautiful sisters used to meet? Do you remember how full of fancies and stories Gratian's little head was, and how sometimes he put them into words to please Fergus, the lame child he loved so much? The story I am now going to tell you is one of these. I think it was their favourite one. I can not say that it is in the very words in which Gratian used to tell it, for it was not till long, long after those boyish days that it came to be written down. But all the same it is his story.About Author:Mary Louisa Molesworth, née Stewart (1839 – 1921) was an English writer of children's stories who wrote for children under the name of Mrs Molesworth. Her first novels, for adult readers, Lover and Husband (1869) to Cicely (1874), appeared under the pseudonym of Ennis Graham.She was born in Rotterdam, a daughter of Charles Augustus Stewart (1809–1873) who later became a rich merchant in Manchester and his wife Agnes Janet Wilson (1810–1883). Mary had three brothers and two sisters. She was educated in Great Britain and Switzerland: much of her girlhood was spent in Manchester. In 1861 she married Major R. Molesworth, nephew of Viscount Molesworth; they legally separated in 1879.Mrs Molesworth is best known as a writer of books for the young, such as Tell Me a Story (1875), Carrots (1876), The Cuckoo Clock (1877), The Tapestry Room (1879), and A Christmas Child (1880). She has been called "the Jane Austen of the nursery," while The Carved Lions (1895) "is probably her masterpiece." In the judgement of Roger Lancelyn Green:Mary Louisa Molesworth typified late Victorian writing for girls. Aimed at girls too old for fairies and princesses but too young for Austen and the Brontes, books by Molesworth had their share of amusement, but they also had a good deal of moral instruction.The girls reading Molesworth would grow up to be mothers; thus, the books emphasized Victorian notions of duty and self-sacrifice.Typical of the time, her young child characters often use a lisping style, and words may be misspelt to represent children's speech—"jography" for geography, for instance.She took an interest in supernatural fiction.In 1888, she published a collection of supernatural tales under the title Four Ghost Stories, and in 1896 a similar collection of six tales under the title Uncanny Stories. In addition to those, her volume Studies and Stories includes a ghost story entitled "Old Gervais" and her Summer Stories for Boys and Girls includes "Not exactly a ghost story."A new edition of The Cuckoo Clock was published in 1914.”
1 Chapter 1 THE OLD HOUSE.2 Chapter 2 IMPATIENT GRISELDA.3 Chapter 3 OBEYING ORDERS.4 Chapter 4 THE COUNTRY OF THE NODDING MANDARINS.5 Chapter 5 PICTURES.6 Chapter 6 RUBBED THE WRONG WAY.7 Chapter 7 BUTTERFLY-LAND.8 Chapter 8 MASTER PHIL.9 Chapter 9 UP AND DOWN THE CHIMNEY.10 Chapter 10 THE OTHER SIDE OF THE MOON.11 Chapter 11 CUCKOO, CUCKOO, GOOD-BYE!