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Updated: April 30, 2025
Howker, the old butler, met him at the foot of the stairs. "Tea is served on the Long Terrace, sir. Mr. Seagrave wishes to know whether you would care to see the trout jumping on the Gray Water this evening? If so, you are please not to stop for tea, but go directly to the Sachem's Gate. Redmond will guide you, sir."
However, when Howker arrived they retired hastily with pockets full of cinnamon sticks, olives, prunes, and dried currants, climbing triumphantly to the library above, where they curled up on a leather divan, under the portrait of their mother, to divide the spoils. "Am I bad enough to suit you?" inquired Geraldine with pardonable pride. "Pooh! That's nothing. If I had another boy here I'd I'd "
"Very well then; if you don't, I'll put on those gloves and fight you myself." Duane's eyes flew wide open and he gazed upon Geraldine with newly mixed emotions. She walked over to her brother and said: "Remember what Howker told us that father used to say that squabbling is disgraceful but a good fight is all right. Duane called you a silly name.
And it was the gayest kind of a ceremony, for they ate and chattered and laughed there together as inconsequentially as four children, and when Howker, with pomp and circumstance, brought in a roast boar's head garnished with holly-like crimson elder, they all stood up and cheered as though they really liked the idea of eating it.
"It's not in the vley now," replied Charlie; "come here yourself; I've found blood, and, hallo! here's a newspaper! Why, it must be a literary lion! Look, Hans, can you make out the name? Howker, Dowker, or something o' that sort. Do lions ever go by that name?" "Bowker," exclaimed Hans, with a laugh.
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