'No sound by night but the winds which blow,
No sound by day but the water's flow,
And the wild bird's screaming note.'
In spite of the best resolutions for early rising, nobody woke with the sun after all, and that luminary1 had plenty of time to creep round and peep in through the little window before Father sprang up from his bed of heather, and exclaiming that they were late, set the children to blow the peats into life again while he took his morning bath in the lake.
Later on Peggy and Bobby followed his example. After sleeping all night in their clothes the cool plunge3 in the clear water was delightfully4 refreshing6, and they sat about like mermaids7 on the rocks, basking8 in the sunshine, and watching a ring-ousel teaching her three big babies to fly, till Father called out that if they did not hurry up and come in at once he should eat all the breakfast before they arrived.
It was real fun frying rashers of bacon over the fire, especially when Peggy nearly upset the pan in her excitement, and Bobby absentmindedly sat upon the teapot, which he had put to keep warm among the peats. I am afraid poor Father had rather a distracting meal, but he cheerfully ate the smoky toast which the[110] children provided, and did not even grumble9 when Peggy, by mistake, put six lumps of sugar into his tea.
'Rover and I must be off to work again this morning,' he said, taking a shepherd's crook10 that lay in a corner of the room, and calling the old dog from the fireside. 'You youngsters had better play about near the cottage. Don't go wandering all round the lake, or you'll get so tired you won't be able to walk home this afternoon.'
Left alone, the children began to busy themselves with what the Americans call 'chores.' First of all the breakfast things had to be cleared away, and carried down to the stream, but, to Peggy's dismay, the greasy11 bacon plates utterly12 refused to wash clean, however long they were left to soak in the pool, and came up in the same smeary13 condition in which she had put them in.
'Whatever shall we do with them? We can't leave them dirty like this,' she exclaimed, feeling as anxious for the credit of the establishment as any full-grown housekeeper14.
'Tilt15 them up in a row against the cottage wall, and pour a kettleful of boiling water over them,' said practical Bobby, who generally had some suggestion to offer.
I do not know what Nancy would have thought of such a method of washing up, but it answered splendidly all the same, for the greasy water drained away into the grass, and the fresh breeze dried the plates without any need of a towel, and Peggy even managed to clean out the frying-pan with the help of some fern-leaves and a wisp of grass, an achievement of which she felt quite proud.
'We can't make our beds,' she said, 'because there's nothing to make; but we'll pile the heather up with[111] the rest of the peat in the chimney corner, and it will do to light the fire with next time. I mean to ask Father to bring us, now, whenever he comes up.'
They managed to construct a broom from some of the longest pieces of heather, and swept the crumbs16 neatly17 out at the front-door; they hung up the frying-pan, the kettle, and the bellows18 in their accustomed places, and stacked the cups and plates in the old box which served as a cupboard.
'Doesn't it look nice?' said Peggy, gazing round with much satisfaction on their handiwork. 'If only we could stay up here a good long time we'd bring lots of things from home, and paint pictures for the walls, and put them in cork19 frames, and I really believe, if I tried, I could make up one of those hearthrugs out of little scraps20 of cloth all pinched up and sewn on, like Nancy made last winter for her sister's wedding present.'
'Oh, bother the cottage!' said Bobby, who, boy-like, soon tired of domestic duties. 'Let's go out and look for whinberries; there ought to be heaps of them round there by the lake.'
Peggy was more than willing, and relinquishing21 her schemes of household improvement to hunt up the milk-can as a handy receptacle, followed him out into the sunshine, to search among the heather for the little low-growing, red-leaved shrubs22 with their crop of small purple berries.
But the blackbirds and the ring-ousels had been before them, so it took a long time to fill the can, especially as a good deal of the fruit found its way into the children's mouths, leaving them with such purple lips and stained fingers that they resembled the babes in the wood.
'I say, Peggy,' cried Bobby suddenly, stooping[112] down to examine more closely the grassy23 bank where he was sitting, 'there's a whole swarm24 of bees keeps coming in and out of this hole.'
'It's a wild bees' nest; I expect the bank is full of honey. Oh, wouldn't it be fun to dig it out! I'm sure we could do it first-rate!'
'But won't they all go for us when we start laying into their hive?'
'We must smoke them out first, like the people do in the village when they only have those straw hives. We'll bring some dry heather and light a fire, so that the smoke will send them to sleep, and then we can get the honey as easy as anything. I remember just how Mrs. Davis does.'
Peggy spoke26 as if she knew all about it, though really she had never seen any honey taken in her life, but she was a young lady who had much confidence in her own powers, and Bobby was so accustomed to follow her lead that he offered no further objections. They went back to the cottage for the matches and a supply of dry heather, which they arranged in a circle round the nest.
'You stand ready with the matches,' commanded Peggy, 'and when I say "Now!" strike a light. Then, as the smoke goes up, I shall poke27 a stick into the hole, and you'll see they'll all fly out and tumble down asleep.'
Obedient Bobby stood at attention, match in hand.
'Now!' cried Peggy breathlessly.
Up went the smoke, the heather catching28 fire at once, in went the stick, and out came the bees in an angry swarm; but something had gone wrong in the calculations, for instead of falling stupefied on to the[113] grass, they flew unharmed through the smoke, and fell upon their tormentors with a buzz of indignation.
Away fled the children, racing29 over the moor30 as if the furies were at their heels. They were both capital runners, having had plenty of practice at cricket and rounders, but I do not think they ever ran so fast in their lives as when they were chased by the bees.
They had just reached the side of a little incline when Peggy's bootlace, which she had neglected to fasten all the morning, tripped her up, and over she went, rolling into a prickly gorse-bush, while Bobby, who was so close behind that he could not stop himself, fell over her, and collapsed31 into a boggy32 hollow, where he lay panting for breath until Peggy picked herself up and hauled him out.
'Oh, you are in a mess!' she cried, trying to wipe the mud off his coat with her pocket-handkerchief, and getting almost as grimy as he was in the process.
'I'm half stinged up!' moaned poor Bobby. 'I've a great place on my cheek, and just look at my hands!' stretching out the wounded members for sympathy.
'They've stung me all round the back of my neck,' said Peggy. 'I expect it'll hurt ever so when it begins to swell34. We'd best go and bathe the places in the lake.'
The water relieved the smart considerably35, and Peggy, happily remembering she had a parcel of biscuits in her pockets, pulled them out and suggested some lunch, for Bobby was looking doleful and injured, and inclined to cast aspersions upon her knowledge of bee-keeping.
There were three apiece, all thick arrow-root ones, and I grieve to say this ill-behaved pair had a competition as to which could finish them the quickest. Dry biscuits are choky things, and it is not very easy to eat three off on end, in record time, without drinking.
[114]'I've won!' declared Bobby in triumph, hurriedly swallowing the last morsel36, and scooping37 up a delicious draught38 of water to wash it down.
'Yes; but you simply bolted your last. You want Miss Wilkins here to teach you manners. What a dear little fat dot she was! I wish we could come across her again.'
'She's gone home. I saw her the day before yesterday in a carriage, with a lady and gentleman and a lot of boxes, and Mrs. Price at the post-office said she had heard Sir Somebody Wilkins was a very great artist in London, and had pictures in the Royal Something-or-other,' explained Bobby lucidly39.
'Was it the Royal Academy?'
'I believe it was; but I thought an academy meant a school.'
'So it does sometimes, but I know the Academy is a place where people go to see pictures, because Maud Middleton told me she had her portrait there last year. Talking of Maud, we have never seen anything of Mr. Neville since that party. I wish he would come over to Gorswen.'
'So do I; he was a stunning40 chap! He could bowl better than the captain of our eleven. Why don't Father and Aunt Helen write and ask him?'
'I don't know. I asked Aunt Helen, but she was so funny and queer over it, and wouldn't talk about him at all. I can't imagine why. Oh, Bobby, look what I've found! A clump41 of real white heather! Isn't that lucky? The first I've ever seen. I shall take it home for Aunt Helen; she'll be so pleased.'
'Joe says it means a wedding if you give it to anybody, and if you find it in three places you'll be married three times. No, I don't want to hunt for any, thank you! It's girls' stuff! I aren't going to bother with[115] marrying when I grow up; I mean to be a pirate, and live in a ship with a black flag, and a lot of jolly fellows with pistols and cutlasses, and we'll overhaul42 every merchantman we see, and string the sailors up from the yard-arm!' and the future buccaneer swung his legs over the rock, and put on a cut-throat expression, strangely at variance43 with his cherubic cast of countenance44.
'Pooh! You're a silly little boy!' said Peggy scornfully, forgetting that only last week she had regarded the adventures in 'Treasure Island' as the beau-ideal of earthly bliss45. 'There are no such things as pirates now, so you couldn't be one, and I believe you'd be scared of the pistols, too, if they were loaded!'
Much offended at these remarks, Bobby stalked away in such aggrieved46 majesty47 that, as the best means to restore peace, Peggy suggested that they should walk on to a larger stream, which emptied itself into the lake about half a mile lower down. Luckily Bobby's ill-humours were of a short-lived nature, and after a few minutes of cutting silence, he volunteered the rather ambiguous remark that there were 'lots of things a fellow could do when he grew up, anyhow,' and was his smiling self again.
The new stream proved highly attractive. It was one of those noisy, rushing mountain torrents48, brown with flowing over the peat, and full of great moss-grown boulders49, with smooth round stones between. There were foaming50 cataracts51 here and there among the rocks, just like Niagara on a small scale, and there were dear little quiet pools at the edges, where the still water was overhung by ferns and rushes, that sheltered caddice-worms, and boat-flies, and whirligig water-beetles, and all sorts of other delights for the collection.
[116]The children promptly52 pulled off their shoes and stockings and paddled in the brown water like a couple of ducks. Peggy tied her boots together by the laces, and putting her stockings inside, slung53 them over her back in true fisher-boy fashion, while she sat dabbling54 her feet in a waterfall, and watching Bobby's frantic55 efforts to catch a dragon-fly.
'Oh, Peg2, come quick! I believe I have him under my hat!' shouted the enthusiastic collector, lying flat among the reeds on a grassy bank.
Peggy jumped up in a hurry, and splashed her way to the rescue, but the smooth round stones were slippery, and seemed to slide away from under her feet. She gave a desperate clutch at a willow-stump on the bank to save herself from falling, and somehow or other, in the struggle, her bootlace broke, and away went the boots, sailing gaily56 down the stream, over the waterfall and into the depths of the lake, before their astonished owner had even realized their loss. Naturally, to secure the dragon-fly and pin him on Bobby's hat was the first consideration, and by the time the missing boots were thought of, they had utterly disappeared, and though the children searched for fully5 half an hour down the stream and on the bank of the lake, they were not to be found.
'I'm afraid it's no use,' said Peggy at last. 'They must have gone down into a hole, or been washed right into the middle of the lake. Someone will fish them out a few hundred years hence, and put them into a museum as great treasures. Well, it can't be helped. I suppose I shall have to walk home without them,' pretending to look as if she did not care, though really the prospect57 of a scolding from Father, and further explanations with Aunt Helen on her return, made her somewhat uneasy.
[117]With spirits slightly damped she wended her way back to the cottage, trying to think it did not hurt to walk on the scrubby heather-stems, and privately58 wondering whether Scotch59 children's toes were made of different material to her own.
Mr. Vaughan came home at one o'clock, having counted the sheep to his satisfaction, and found none missing.
'I'm as hungry as a hunter,' he announced. 'We must eat up everything that's left; it won't do to carry anything back in our baskets. Is the kettle boiling? Come, Peggy, child, put on your shoes and stockings; you look like the picture of an Irish peasant-girl.'
Peggy had certainly expected a lecture when she made the painful confession60 that her foot-gear was at the bottom of the lake, but, to her great relief, Father took it all as a joke, and laughed so heartily61 that he quite forgot to scold her.
'But you can't walk eight miles home over a rough road with bare feet!' he exclaimed, the practical side of the question suddenly striking him, 'and I certainly don't feel equal to carrying you. We must manage to make you a pair of sandals of some kind. I suppose I shall have to sacrifice my shooting-gaiters;' and he divested62 himself of his leather leggings with rueful reluctance63. 'Now, put your foot down upon that, and I will draw a line round it; then, if I cut it out with my penknife it will make quite a good sole—enough to save you from the stones, at any rate.'
Peggy sat on the box while Father tied on the improvised64 sandals with her pocket-handkerchief and Bobby's. They were certainly ingenious, though hardly elegant, and it did not comfort her much to be told that she would be taken for a wounded soldier[118] limping back from the wars; indeed, Father made such fun of her that she grew quite indignant, and began to think she would really rather have been scolded a little than so very much laughed at.
Peggy never forgot that walk home. The sandals were anything but comfortable, and her feet hurt dreadfully on the stones, while every gorse-bush she passed seemed to be stretching out spiky65 fingers to scratch her bare legs; she was tired after her morning's adventures on the moors66, and the eight miles seemed to lengthen67 out to an interminable vista68, in spite of the way being downhill; sundry69 bumps and bruises70, which she had never noticed at the time, began to ache now, and the bee-stings on her neck smarted, until she hardly knew how to bear the pain.
Poor Bobby was in scarcely better plight71, and, to add to their misery72, a rain-cloud, blowing over from the west, broke on the mountain-top, and drenched73 them almost to the skin. Mr. Vaughan was in such haste to get home before post-time that he hurried them on, quite forgetting how much shorter their legs were than his own, and he refused to listen to any excuses for sitting down and resting, which, considering their wet condition, was perhaps just as well.
A more draggled and disreputable-looking pair of children it would have been impossible to find. Bobby's sailor-suit was all stained with mud, where he had fallen into the bog33, and smears74 of the same material seemed to have distributed themselves over his chubby75 face. There were several rents in his stockings, while the brim and crown of his straw hat had parted company, showing his crop of brown curls through the gap between. As for Peggy, a young gipsy tramp would have looked more respectable, for the brown holland dress, which had started out stiff and clean[119] yesterday morning, was smeared76 with whinberry juice, black smudges from the kettle, and green stains from the mossy stones in the stream, and clung around her bare legs in damp, clammy folds, while the drenching77 rain had reduced the poppies in her hat to a scarlet78 pulp79, which dripped down in crimson80 tears upon her cheek. The sun, shining out brilliantly as they reached civilization once more, seemed to make the forlorn plight of the wayfarers81 look worse than ever. If there had been any possible way home, except through the village, I think Peggy would have begged Father to take it, and she wished that, like Lady Godiva, she could have shut the people up in their cottages until she had passed by.
'I know they'll all stand and stare at my bare legs and queer sandals,' she groaned82. 'Those horrid83, rude Watkin boys are sure to see me, and call names next time, when Father's not there, and Mrs. Price will come fussing out of the post-office to ask if there has been an accident; she always wants to poke her nose into everything!'
The Watkin boys, however, were away, engaged in a raid for early apples in the orchards84 of long-suffering neighbours, while Mrs. Price was taking tea in her back-parlour, and indulging in such spicy85 gossip with her particular friend Miss Jones that the children passed by unnoticed, and Peggy began to congratulate herself that they were almost out of danger.
But alas86! things rarely happen as we expect in this world. They had crossed the bridge, and were turning away up the lane to the Abbey, when the sound of wheels was heard behind them, and, in the smart carriage which rolled by, whom should Peggy recognise but the supercilious87 faces and elegant costumes of[120] Phyllis and Marjorie Norton. Her cup of humiliation88 was filled to the brim.
'And they knew me at once, I'm sure,' she lamented89 to Lilian afterwards, 'for they both looked at each other, and Phyllis laughed in that horrid, sneering90 way she has. I know she'll tell the Middletons, and they'll think it so queer. I don't much mind Marjorie, but of all people in this world I simply detest91 Phyllis Norton!'
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1
luminary
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| n.名人，天体 | |
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peg
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| n.木栓，木钉；vt.用木钉钉，用短桩固定 | |
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plunge
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| v.跳入，(使)投入，(使)陷入；猛冲 | |
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delightfully
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| 大喜，欣然 | |
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fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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refreshing
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| adj.使精神振作的，使人清爽的，使人喜欢的 | |
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mermaids
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| n.（传说中的）美人鱼( mermaid的名词复数 ) | |
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basking
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| v.晒太阳，取暖( bask的现在分词 )；对…感到乐趣；因他人的功绩而出名；仰仗…的余泽 | |
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grumble
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| vi.抱怨；咕哝；n.抱怨，牢骚；咕哝，隆隆声 | |
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crook
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| v.使弯曲；n.小偷，骗子，贼；弯曲(处) | |
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greasy
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| adj. 多脂的，油脂的 | |
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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smeary
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| 弄脏的 | |
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housekeeper
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| n.管理家务的主妇，女管家 | |
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tilt
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| v.(使)倾侧；(使)倾斜；n.倾侧；倾斜 | |
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crumbs
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| int. (表示惊讶)哎呀 n. 碎屑 名词crumb的复数形式 | |
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neatly
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| adv.整洁地，干净地，灵巧地，熟练地 | |
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bellows
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| n.风箱；发出吼叫声，咆哮（尤指因痛苦）( bellow的名词复数 )；（愤怒地）说出（某事），大叫v.发出吼叫声，咆哮（尤指因痛苦）( bellow的第三人称单数 )；（愤怒地）说出（某事），大叫 | |
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cork
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| n.软木，软木塞 | |
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scraps
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| 油渣 | |
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relinquishing
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| 交出，让给( relinquish的现在分词 )； 放弃 | |
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shrubs
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| 灌木( shrub的名词复数 ) | |
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grassy
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| adj.盖满草的；长满草的 | |
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swarm
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| n.(昆虫)等一大群；vi.成群飞舞；蜂拥而入 | |
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dangling
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| 悬吊着( dangle的现在分词 )； 摆动不定； 用某事物诱惑…； 吊胃口 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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poke
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| n.刺，戳，袋；vt.拨开，刺，戳；vi.戳，刺，捅，搜索，伸出，行动散慢 | |
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catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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racing
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| n.竞赛，赛马；adj.竞赛用的，赛马用的 | |
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moor
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| n.荒野，沼泽；vt.(使)停泊；vi.停泊 | |
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collapsed
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| adj.倒塌的 | |
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boggy
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| adj.沼泽多的 | |
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bog
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| n.沼泽；室...陷入泥淖 | |
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swell
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| vi.膨胀，肿胀；增长，增强 | |
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considerably
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| adv.极大地；相当大地；在很大程度上 | |
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morsel
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| n.一口，一点点 | |
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scooping
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| n.捞球v.抢先报道( scoop的现在分词 )；（敏捷地）抱起；抢先获得；用铲[勺]等挖（洞等） | |
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draught
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| n.拉，牵引，拖；一网（饮，吸，阵)；顿服药量，通风；v.起草，设计 | |
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lucidly
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| adv.清透地，透明地 | |
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stunning
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| adj.极好的；使人晕倒的 | |
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clump
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| n.树丛，草丛；vi.用沉重的脚步行走 | |
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overhaul
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| v./n.大修，仔细检查 | |
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variance
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| n.矛盾，不同 | |
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countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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bliss
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| n.狂喜，福佑，天赐的福 | |
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aggrieved
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| adj.愤愤不平的，受委屈的；悲痛的；（在合法权利方面）受侵害的v.令委屈，令苦恼，侵害( aggrieve的过去式)；令委屈，令苦恼，侵害( aggrieve的过去式和过去分词) | |
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majesty
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| n.雄伟，壮丽，庄严，威严；最高权威，王权 | |
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torrents
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| n.倾注；奔流( torrent的名词复数 )；急流；爆发；连续不断 | |
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boulders
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| n.卵石( boulder的名词复数 )；巨砾；（受水或天气侵蚀而成的）巨石；漂砾 | |
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foaming
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| adj.布满泡沫的；发泡 | |
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cataracts
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| n.大瀑布( cataract的名词复数 )；白内障 | |
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promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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slung
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| 抛( sling的过去式和过去分词 )； 吊挂； 遣送； 押往 | |
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dabbling
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| v.涉猎( dabble的现在分词 )；涉足；浅尝；少量投资 | |
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frantic
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| adj.狂乱的，错乱的，激昂的 | |
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gaily
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| adv.欢乐地，高兴地 | |
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prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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privately
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| adv.以私人的身份，悄悄地，私下地 | |
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59
scotch
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| n.伤口，刻痕；苏格兰威士忌酒；v.粉碎，消灭，阻止；adj.苏格兰(人)的 | |
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60
confession
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| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
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heartily
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| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
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62
divested
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| v.剥夺( divest的过去式和过去分词 )；脱去（衣服）；2。从…取去…；1。（给某人）脱衣服 | |
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reluctance
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| n.厌恶，讨厌，勉强，不情愿 | |
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improvised
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| a.即席而作的,即兴的 | |
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65
spiky
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| adj.长而尖的，大钉似的 | |
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66
moors
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| v.停泊，系泊（船只）( moor的第三人称单数 ) | |
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lengthen
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| vt.使伸长，延长 | |
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vista
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| n.远景，深景，展望，回想 | |
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69
sundry
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| adj.各式各样的，种种的 | |
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70
bruises
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| n.瘀伤，伤痕，擦伤( bruise的名词复数 ) | |
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71
plight
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| n.困境，境况，誓约，艰难；vt.宣誓，保证，约定 | |
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misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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73
drenched
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| adj.湿透的；充满的v.使湿透( drench的过去式和过去分词 )；在某人（某物）上大量使用（某液体） | |
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74
smears
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| 污迹( smear的名词复数 )； 污斑； （显微镜的）涂片； 诽谤 | |
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75
chubby
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| adj.丰满的，圆胖的 | |
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76
smeared
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| 弄脏； 玷污； 涂抹； 擦上 | |
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drenching
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| n.湿透v.使湿透( drench的现在分词 )；在某人（某物）上大量使用（某液体） | |
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78
scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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pulp
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| n.果肉，纸浆；v.化成纸浆，除去...果肉，制成纸浆 | |
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80
crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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81
wayfarers
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| n.旅人，（尤指）徒步旅行者( wayfarer的名词复数 ) | |
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82
groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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83
horrid
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| adj.可怕的；令人惊恐的；恐怖的；极讨厌的 | |
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84
orchards
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| （通常指围起来的）果园( orchard的名词复数 ) | |
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85
spicy
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| adj.加香料的；辛辣的，有风味的 | |
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86
alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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87
supercilious
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| adj.目中无人的，高傲的；adv.高傲地；n.高傲 | |
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88
humiliation
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| n.羞辱 | |
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89
lamented
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| adj.被哀悼的，令人遗憾的v.（为…）哀悼，痛哭，悲伤( lament的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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90
sneering
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| 嘲笑的，轻蔑的 | |
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detest
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| vt.痛恨，憎恶 | |
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