Pat of Silver Bush by Lucy Maud Montgomery Page B

with us Monday. We’re going to have chickens because it’s Labour Day. Judy says she labours that day just the same as any day but she always celebrates it with a chicken dinner. Please come.”
    “I’d like to,” said Jingle. “And I’m glad McGinty and I happened along when you were scared.”
    “Is McGinty the name of your dog?” asked Pat, looking at it a little timidly. Snicklefritz and Uncle Tom’s old Bruno were all the dogs she was acquainted with.
    “Yes. He’s the only friend I’ve got in the world,” said Jingle.
    “Except me,” said Pat.
    Jingle suddenly smiled. Even in the moonlight she saw that he had a nice smile.
    “Except you,” he agreed.
    Judy appeared at the open kitchen door, peering out.
    “I must run,” said Pat hastily. “Monday then. Don’t forget. And bring McGinty, too. There’ll be some bones.”
    “Now who was ye colloguing wid out there?” asked Judy curiously. “Sure and ye might av brought yer beau in and let’s give him the once-over. Not but that ye’re beginning a trifle young.”
    “That wasn’t a beau, Judy,” cried Pat, scandalised at the bare idea. “That was just Jingle.”
    “Hear at her. And who may Jingle be, if it’s not asking too much?”
    “Hilary Gordon … and I was coming home alone … and I got lost … I was a LITTLE frightened, Judy … and he’s coming to dinner on Monday.”
    “Oh, oh, it’s the fast worker ye are,” chuckled Judy, delighted that she had got something to tease Pat about … Pat who had never thought there was any boy in the world but Sidney.
    But Pat was too happy to mind. She was home, in the bright kitchen of Silver Bush. The horror of that lonely road had ceased to be … had never been. It was really beautiful to come home at night … to step out of darkness into the light and warmth of home.
    “Did ye save a piece of pie for me, Judy?”
    “Oh, oh, that I did. Don’t I know the skimp males of the Bay Shore? Sure and it’s niver cut and come agin there. It’s more than a bit av pie I have for ye. What wud ye say now to a sausage and a baked pittaty?”
    Over the supper Pat told Judy all about the day and her walk home.
    “Think av the pluck av her, starting out alone like that on Shank’s mare,” said Judy, just as Pat had expected. That was the beauty of Judy. “Though I’m not saying it isn’t a good thing that Jingle-lad happened along whin he did. Mind ye ask the cratur over for a liddle bite now and agin. I knew ould Larry Gordon whin he lived on the Taylor farm beyant the store. He’s a skim milk man, that he is.”
    Judy had several classifications of people who were not lavish. You were “saving” … which was commendable. You were “close” … which was on the border line. You were “near” … which was over it. You were “skim milk” … which was beyond the pale. But Judy could not resist giving Pat a sly dig.
    “I s’pose me poor kitchen is very tame after the splendours av the Bay Shore farm?”
    “Silver Bush kitchen is better than the Bay Shore parlour,” declared Pat: but she declared it drowsily. It had been a pretty full and strenuous day for eight years.
    “Niver rub yer eyes wid innything but yer elbows, me jewel,” cautioned Judy, as she convoyed Pat upstairs.
    Mother, who had been singing Cuddles to sleep, slipped in to ask Pat if she had had a good time.
    “The Bay Shore farm is such a lovely place,” said Pat truthfully. It WAS a lovely PLACE. And Pat wouldn’t hurt mother’s feelings for the world by confessing that her visit to mother’s old home had not been altogether pleasant. Mother loved Bay Shore almost as well as she, Pat, loved Silver Bush. Dear Silver Bush! Pat felt as if its arms were around her protectingly as she drifted into dreamland.

11
    Dinner is Served

1
    Pat had a bad Sunday of it.
    When she found that the old poplar had been cut down she mourned and would not be comforted.
    “Look, me jewel, what a pretty bit av scenery ye can see