Hoops and driving had gone out, and cricket and marbles were in, and the days were getting long and warm, when I received a letter from Mary, saying that Captain Frankland had come home, and had written to our father, but she did not know what had passed between them.  I always told Mary all I thought and wished; and though she cried very much at the thoughts of my going away, yet she promised to help me as best she could.  How she was to help, I did not exactly know.  I tried to console her by promising to bring her back parrots without end from Africa, and shawls from India, and fans and carved ivory bones from China, and poisoned arrows, and darts, and tomahawks, and all sorts of dreadful weapons, from America and the islands of the Pacific.  Indeed, had I fulfilled my promises to the letter, I could pretty well have loaded a ship with my intended gifts.  My father said nothing, and we all went home together at the usual time.  At the end of this half, a very complimentary letter had preceded me.