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If took a great deal of explanation on Bobby's part; but finally there was conveyed to the young riverman's understanding a slight notion of the situation. To the child the day seemed lost; but Jimmy Powers was more resourceful. He surveyed his charge thoughtfully. "You're all right, kid," he announced at last. "Your collar's all right, and your hair ain't wet.
It had a square table in the middle of the room; there was one cupboard for Bobby's toys, another for the nursery crockery; a wooden rocking-chair, a low oak bench, and two rush chairs. The floor was covered with red cocoanut matting. The fire was guarded by a high wire screen, and above the mantelpiece hung a coloured illustration of the battle of Waterloo.
Indeed, for fourteen years hundreds of disinherited children have been made kinder and happier by knowing Bobby's story and having that little dog to love."
The landlord could not know, in truth, what Bobby's ultimate fate might be. But little over nine years of age, he should live only five or six years longer at most. Of his friends, Mr. Brown was ill and aging, and might have to give place to a younger man. He himself was in his prime, but he could not be certain of living longer than this hardy little dog.
"The larger portion of it, the ninety-two acres adjoining Mr. Applerod's twenty," Mr. Thorne advised him, "was taken up by Miles, Eddy and Company. The north eight acres are owned by Mr. Silas Trimmer, and I am quite positive, from what Mr. Trimmer told me, not two hours later, that this parcel is not for sale." Bobby's heart sank.
The air was biting cold, especially after the sun began to sink through the trees, but it had the effect merely of nipping Bobby's nose and cheeks red his little body was tingling and aglow. On his banner day he brought down two fox-squirrels, and one of the beautiful black squirrels, then not uncommon, but now practically extinct. In the process he used up his box of cartridges.
Then Bobby's grandfather brought out some curious knobby-looking bundles from his valise, and while the children shut their eyes, he hid the packages and then turned the children loose to find them. There was a great outfit of Kate Greenaway writing paper for Ethelwyn; a black doll-baby apiece for Beth and Nan; and a watch with a leather fob and jockey cap attachments for his namesake, Bobby.
You'll never get inside the gates if you don't, and it would be quite dre'fful to be shut out. 'When is it? asked True, deliberating. 'When is what? 'The gates being opened. 'I think it's when you die, you want to get frough, said Bobby. 'Then I can wait till I die! said True. 'What a silly girl you are! Bobby's tone was almost contemptuous. 'I'm not silly. 'Yes you are.
"But get his cage quick; for he's scared to death at my holding him." Bobby's mistress darted into the house at the word, and reappeared again in a moment with a gilded palace that was surely all a bird could ask for. "O Bobby, Bobby!" she murmured reproachfully, as Dan deposited his subdued and trembling captive behind the glittering bars.
For the third time that day Bobby's veil was pushed back. One shocked look by this lover of dogs, and it was dropped. "Get him back to that grave, man, or he's like to die. His eyes are just two cairngorms of grief." In the hush that fell upon the company the senior officer spoke sharply: "Take him down at once, Sergeant.
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