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CHAPTER X SIR THOMAS KATZENSTEIN “Wisht that orful pitcher ’d fall inter the swill-pail an’ then turn a somerset in the soot-pile,” murmured the boy as he noticed the care exercised over its safety. Moses blushed deeply and dared not raise his eyes from the ground lest Isobel should see his embarrassment..
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“She’ll be all right. May Nell and me—I—we took our lunch and went over to Potter’s pasture. Shoot! She’s waiting now! I hope the poor little kiddie—little girl—eats, don’t wait for me,—she an’ Bouncer.” SUNDAY brought rain, and Mrs. Bennett decided that May Nell must remain quietly in the house. The only apparent result of her exciting day, and the faint, was a languor that made her willing to obey, to curl up by the fire, with Sir Thomas by her side. He was a tremendous cat, who accepted lazily all the caresses bestowed upon him, while Flash, his white mate, was shy, and unless forced, would not appear before strangers. “Never min’, Pete, an’ thank you anyways, but sence the lesson’s a hull lot about the sea, I’ll jist write with blue chork.” Mr. Wopp looked up in approval and brandished a formidable looking piece of fat meat, precariously poised on one prong of his fork and in his efforts to lose none of its dripping flavor, described an uncertain spiral in the air..
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