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CHAPTER XI GOOD-NIGHT IN THE FO’CASTLE They came to the crest of the gorge. “We’ll have to slow up and zig-zag down carefully or they’ll hear us an’ get away,” Billy suggested. Outside the spring warmth and fragrance enfolded the children as a mantle, opening their hearts to each other. Billy showed his flock of pigeons, his white chickens and the house where they roosted and brought forth their fluffy broods. Old Bouncer barked and capered about them; and the little girl tried to decide which cat was the prettiest, white Flash watching for gophers in the green alfalfa, or Sir Thomas Katzenstein, his yellow mate, basking in the sun. “He isn’t yellow like any other cat I ever saw; he’s shaded so beautifully.”.
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“I’m chored from mornin’ till night, an’ arfter I go to sleep I do some more chorin’ jist to keep my hand in.” Moses was in a distinctly peevish mood. “But you work hard, and he should do his part. You are spending your youth for us, and I’m glad he begins to see it.” They spoke softly, yet Billy knew partly what they said; and it made him still more thoughtful. “Jist hold on there, Mose, we wanter play a game of checkers on yer pants.” At this jibe Moses turned and held up a clenched fist as warning of a potential thrashing which the boys knew would never materialize. Moses was slow to active wrath. “You’d think this here day’s trip to Calgary was a journey to Jeroosalem,” he complained, all his slips of paper used up in jottings to remind him of duties imposed..
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