The next day the children were allowed to run over the farm, and they delighted in roaming about — Robin especially — to see the farm horses and the large wagons, and to peep into the stables and barns. Near the house was a paddock, where two young colts with their long tails and manes were running loose, and round the sides were leafy trees and high hedges, where violets and primroses grew in the springtime. Then there was a little orchard, full of apple, pear and plum trees, and in the yard was Bouncer, a huge dog, who could hardly understand what the children wanted there and who moved about uneasily clanking his chain. Even the pigsties fascinated the children.
Saturday was always a busy day, and no one could pay much attention to them. Mrs. Clark had her baking and cooking to attend to. Susan cleaned the house and put all in readiness for the next day. Jenny was called this way and that to brush boots, empty water, wash dishes, and receive many a scolding from her mistress.
Mrs. Clark was a person who was apt to bestow her temper and impatience on anyone who was near her, and that person was more often Jenny than any other. Susan rarely laid herself open to a scolding, and Mrs. Clark was afraid of losing her, for she knew Susan could easily get another job in the neighborhood, whereas she could not so easily get as good a servant again.
Should her pies or bread get burnt, the milk turn sour or one of the best fowls die, and put her out of temper, the calamity was not borne patiently, but the first trifling offence on the part of another would make her lose her temper.
Mrs. Clark was not always cross. Sometimes after an outburst she felt considerably relieved in her mind, and could be quite agreeable for a little while. This Saturday she had not recovered from her annoyance of the night before, and so the breakfast meal was not the most comfortable affair.
Jack had come home late the night before, and had not spoken to his cousins till now. This was not the first time they had met. His father had driven him over to see his Aunt Alice two or three times before, but he had behaved in such a way as to make the children afraid of him, so that they did not now meet him very cheerfully.
"You are the boy who climbed our cherry tree, and ate so much," said Robin.
Jack laughed. "Didn't I? and stuffed my pockets too! I imagine your mother did not sell as many last year as usual."
"Mother said you broke the branches and spoiled the look of the tree," said Rose. "She was so sorry, because Father planted it."
"I don't think you are a good boy at all," added Robin. "You pushed me into a big hole, and made me cut my knees."
"You had better not talk like that to me, youngsters," said Jack, with a frown on his face. "If you come and eat our bread, you will find it best to be polite," and he caught Robin's arm, and held it tight. "Beg my pardon, or—" and he raised his hand.
"I'm not going to beg. Uncle Clark is going to give me my dinners, and I don't know what `arding' is," answered Robin, turning red and frightened, but standing his ground.
"Hallo, what's the matter, Jack? You are not hurting the boy? Let go," said his father, who entered the kitchen at this moment.
"What! quarreling already," exclaimed his mother, coming in at the door. "Didn't I tell you so, Clark? The boys will never agree. Shame on you, Robin, to begin tormenting your cousin so soon."
"Please, Aunt," said Rose, "I don't think Robin meant any harm."
"Hold your tongue, and come to breakfast," answered her aunt.
Jack nodded his head at Robin, as much as to say "Wait till I find you alone."
Certainly Robin did not look a very formidable enemy, as he stood facing Jack, hardly knowing whether to be frightened or not, twisting a corner of his shirt with his fingers, and trying to still the quivering of his lip. As Susan lifted him on his chair, he put his arms up round her neck, and in a loud whisper said,
"Susan, I know that bad boy is going to frighten me; don't you let him."
"All right, honey. Eat your breakfast now," she answered assuringly.