looked at Miss Pink, who had somewhat recovered from her fright and was knitting again.
Mrs. Pottle and Mrs. Pring were listening; each had forgotten the other. They were listening as folk will who want to catch—though they know this to be impossible—a distant word.
All waited, and the Dean, at whom each looked in turn, seemed to wait too.
Something was going on at the back door, and even Dinah, though she felt that a wood was the better place for hidden doings, wished she was there to see.
Every one listened, as though it were a matter of life and death to them to know whether the fine mackerel, fresh caught as they really were, were three for sixpence or four for ninepence.
It was Mary Gulliver, and as a child she had played the game, ‘Who speaks first becomes the sow’—and she always was—who now broke the silence by saying with a gasp, ‘What do ’ee think Mrs. Pattimore be a-doing wi’ thik fisherman?’
To aid herself in giving a right answer to this question Miss Pink looked out of the window.
The vicarage gate, that had up to that moment been as silent as any gate that behaves properly should be, now showed an unusual liveliness, for seated upon it, in a way that wasn’t exactly modest, was Esther, the naughtiest child in Mockery. And as though to give all possible support to their leader, the rest of the wolfish pack, with hands through the bars, were demanding with shouts andclamour that the Nellie-bird should be given up to them.
‘’E be a-gone thik way,’ cried Esther, pointing to the path that led round the house to the back door.
‘Send ’e out for we to throw mud at,’ called out the others. All the children now set up a loud howling and demanded with many threats that the Nellie-bird should be let out of the gate.
Even the Dean had few eyes now left to look at him, for the window demanded all, and before Mary Gulliver had time to gasp out, ‘’Tis ’e wi’ they fishes,’ the fisherman passed the window again, but not alone. Mrs. Pattimore was with him.
The fisherman walked beside her.
The children cried out the louder.
The cloud that had made all things so dim that afternoon now broke as if in two halves. And the sun poured down hot and loving.
The fisherman had taken off his cap, perhaps when the lady first opened the door to him, and hadn’t troubled to put it on again, and he now carried it in his hand. He was talking pleasantly to Mrs. Pattimore, who, though she hardly answered at all, looked up at him with a blissful devotion.
‘The Nellie-bird, the Nellie-bird!’ shouted the children.
Mrs. Pattimore stood uncertain while thefisherman opened the gate; she felt that she ought to try to prevent the children from hurting this newcomer who was being made a mock of; and yet by the look of him he appeared to be well able to take care of himself.
He waved her back, and before little Esther could quite decide what he was doing to her he had filled her apron with fishes.
While Esther divided the spoil, which she did very fairly, the fisherman strode boldly across the fields and towards the sea.
Mrs. Pattimore entered the dining-room, but instead of looking in a dreary way at the Dean, as she would sometimes do, she looked with a happy smile at Miss Pink, and taking her almost into her arms she kissed her three times.
Chapter 14
M R. P RING TALKS TO THE S TONES
M R. J AMES P RING always spoke to the weather; he considered that the weather was a person that could be addressed as either ‘he’ or ‘she.’ ‘’E be bad-tempered to-day,’ James would say to his wife, if there chanced to be rain-clouds abroad. Or else when the wind blew, ‘She don’t care whose thatch she do blow off, she bain’t particular.’
When Mr. Pring named the weather as ‘she,’ Mrs. Pring often misunderstood him, and fancied that he referred to Mrs. Pottle.
‘She bain’t worth a cow’s tail, thik ’oman,’ said Mrs. Pring one fine hot morning when she observed her husband to
Mrs. Pottle and Mrs. Pring were listening; each had forgotten the other. They were listening as folk will who want to catch—though they know this to be impossible—a distant word.
All waited, and the Dean, at whom each looked in turn, seemed to wait too.
Something was going on at the back door, and even Dinah, though she felt that a wood was the better place for hidden doings, wished she was there to see.
Every one listened, as though it were a matter of life and death to them to know whether the fine mackerel, fresh caught as they really were, were three for sixpence or four for ninepence.
It was Mary Gulliver, and as a child she had played the game, ‘Who speaks first becomes the sow’—and she always was—who now broke the silence by saying with a gasp, ‘What do ’ee think Mrs. Pattimore be a-doing wi’ thik fisherman?’
To aid herself in giving a right answer to this question Miss Pink looked out of the window.
The vicarage gate, that had up to that moment been as silent as any gate that behaves properly should be, now showed an unusual liveliness, for seated upon it, in a way that wasn’t exactly modest, was Esther, the naughtiest child in Mockery. And as though to give all possible support to their leader, the rest of the wolfish pack, with hands through the bars, were demanding with shouts andclamour that the Nellie-bird should be given up to them.
‘’E be a-gone thik way,’ cried Esther, pointing to the path that led round the house to the back door.
‘Send ’e out for we to throw mud at,’ called out the others. All the children now set up a loud howling and demanded with many threats that the Nellie-bird should be let out of the gate.
Even the Dean had few eyes now left to look at him, for the window demanded all, and before Mary Gulliver had time to gasp out, ‘’Tis ’e wi’ they fishes,’ the fisherman passed the window again, but not alone. Mrs. Pattimore was with him.
The fisherman walked beside her.
The children cried out the louder.
The cloud that had made all things so dim that afternoon now broke as if in two halves. And the sun poured down hot and loving.
The fisherman had taken off his cap, perhaps when the lady first opened the door to him, and hadn’t troubled to put it on again, and he now carried it in his hand. He was talking pleasantly to Mrs. Pattimore, who, though she hardly answered at all, looked up at him with a blissful devotion.
‘The Nellie-bird, the Nellie-bird!’ shouted the children.
Mrs. Pattimore stood uncertain while thefisherman opened the gate; she felt that she ought to try to prevent the children from hurting this newcomer who was being made a mock of; and yet by the look of him he appeared to be well able to take care of himself.
He waved her back, and before little Esther could quite decide what he was doing to her he had filled her apron with fishes.
While Esther divided the spoil, which she did very fairly, the fisherman strode boldly across the fields and towards the sea.
Mrs. Pattimore entered the dining-room, but instead of looking in a dreary way at the Dean, as she would sometimes do, she looked with a happy smile at Miss Pink, and taking her almost into her arms she kissed her three times.
Chapter 14
M R. P RING TALKS TO THE S TONES
M R. J AMES P RING always spoke to the weather; he considered that the weather was a person that could be addressed as either ‘he’ or ‘she.’ ‘’E be bad-tempered to-day,’ James would say to his wife, if there chanced to be rain-clouds abroad. Or else when the wind blew, ‘She don’t care whose thatch she do blow off, she bain’t particular.’
When Mr. Pring named the weather as ‘she,’ Mrs. Pring often misunderstood him, and fancied that he referred to Mrs. Pottle.
‘She bain’t worth a cow’s tail, thik ’oman,’ said Mrs. Pring one fine hot morning when she observed her husband to
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