But that small youth had done so, and returned presently crestfallen.

“He wouldn’t give me any—­he told me to go away, and the man laughed, and Esther said we were very naughty—­I got some feathered potatoes, though, from the table outside the door.”

He opened his dirty little hands and dropped the uninviting feathered delicacy out upon the cloth.

“Bunty, you’re a pig,” sighed Meg, looking up from her book.  She always read at the table, and this particular story was about some very refined, elegant girls.

“Pig yourself all of you’ve had fowl but me, you greedy things!” retorted Bunty fiercely, and eating, his potato very fast.

“No, the General hasn’t,” said Judy and the old mischief light sprang up suddenly into her dark eyes.

“Now, Judy!” said Meg warningly; she knew too well what that particular sparkle meant.

“Oh, I’m not going to hurt you, you dear old thing,” said Miss Judy, dancing down the room and bestowing a pat on her sister’s fair head as she passed.  “It’s only the General, who’s after havin’ a bit o’ fun.”

She lifted him up out of the high chair, where he had been sitting drumming on the table with a spoon and eating sugar in the intervals.

“It’s real action you’re going for to see, General,” she said, dancing to the door with him.

“Oh, Judy, what are you going to do?” said Meg entreatingly.

“Ju-Ju!” crowed the General, leaping almost out of Judy’s arms, and scenting fun with the instinct of a veteran.

Down the passage they went, the other five behind to watch proceedings.  Judy sat down with him on the last step.

“Boy want chuck-chuck, pretty chuck-chuck?” she said insidiously.

“Chuck-chuck, chuck-a-chuck,” he gurgled, looking all around for his favourite friends.

“Dad got lots—­all this many,” said Judy, opening her arms very wide to denote the number in her father’s possession.  “Boydie, go get them!”

“Chuck-chuck,” crowed the General delightedly, and struggling to his feet—­“find chuck-chuck.”

“In there,” whispered Judy, giving him a gentle push into the half-open dining-room door; “ask Dad.”

Right across the room the baby tottered on fat, unsteady little legs.

“Are the children all possessed to-night, Esther?” said the Captain, as his youngest-son clutched wildly at his leg and tried to climb up it.

He looked down into the little dirty, dimpling face.  “Well, General, and to what do we owe the honour of your presence?”

“Chuck-chuck, chuck-a-chuck, chuck, chuck, chuck,” said the.  General, going down promptly upon all fours to seek for the feathered darlings Judy had said were here.

But Esther gathered up the dear, dirty-faced young rascal and bore him struggling out of the room.  At the foot of the stairs she nearly stumbled over the rest of the family.