Amelia’s meals were another source of trouble.  She would not wear a pinafore; if it had been put on, she would burst the strings, and perhaps in throwing it away knock her plate of mutton broth over the tablecloth and her own dress.  Then she fancied first one thing and then another; she did not like this or that; she wanted a bit cut here or there.  Her mamma used to begin by saying, “My dear-r-Ramelia, you must not be so wasteful,” and she used to end by saying, “The dear child has positively no appetite;” which seemed to be a good reason for not wasting any more food upon her; but with Amelia’s mamma it only meant that she might try a little cutlet and tomato sauce when she had half finished her roast beef, and that most of the cutlet and all the mashed potato might be exchanged for plum tart and custard; and that when she had spooned up the custard and played with the paste, and put the plum stones on the tablecloth, she might be tempted with a little Stilton cheese and celery, and exchange that for anything that caught her fancy in the dessert dishes.

The Nurse used to say, “Many a poor child would thank GOD for what you waste every meal-time, Miss Amelia,” and to quote a certain good old saying, “Waste not, want not.”  But Amelia’s mamma allowed her to send away on her plates what would have fed another child, day after day.

UNDER THE HAYCOCKS.

It was summer, and haytime.  Amelia had been constantly in the hayfield, and the haymakers had constantly wished that she had been anywhere else.  She mislaid the rakes, nearly killed herself and several other persons with a fork, and overturned one haycock after another as fast as they were made.  At tea-time it was hoped that she would depart, but she teased her mamma to have the tea brought into the field, and her mamma said, “The poor child must have a treat sometimes,” and so it was brought out.

After this she fell off the haycart, and was a good deal shaken, but not hurt.  So she was taken indoors, and the haymakers worked hard and cleared the field, all but a few cocks which were left till the morning.

The sun set, the dew fell, the moon rose.  It was a lovely night.  Amelia peeped from behind the blinds of the drawing-room windows, and saw four haycocks, each with a deep shadow reposing at its side.  The rest of the field was swept clean, and looked pale in the moonshine.  It was a lovely night.

“I want to go out,” said Amelia.  “They will take away those cocks before I can get at them in the morning, and there will be no more jumping and tumbling, I shall go out and have some fun now.”

“My dear Amelia, you must not,” said her mamma; and her papa added, “I won’t hear of it.”  So Amelia went up-stairs to grumble to Nurse; but Nurse only said, “Now, my dear Miss Amelia, do go quietly to bed, like a dear love.  The field is all wet with dew.  Besides, it’s a moonlight night, and who knows what’s abroad?  You might see the fairies—­bless us and sain us!—­and what not.  There’s been a magpie hopping up and down near the house all day, and that’s a sign of ill-luck.”