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Updated: May 15, 2025
After receiving a thousand messages for Collins, both affectionate and jocular one from Mr. Pescod being on no account to forget to tell her to try anti-fat they said good-bye to these kind folk and marched into Faringdon the next morning, very sorry it was the last, but determined to make a brave show.
"I believe you're Avories." "That's so," said Kink. "Well, I'm blessed!" the farmer cried. "And to think we should be falling out when I've been waiting to see you these many days! My name's Pescod. My halfsister's your cook." Mr. Pescod climbed out of his cart and shook hands with all the children.
There was everything that one wants in a farm, a pond with ducks; a haystack half cut, so that one might jump about on it; straw ricks on stone posts; cowsheds smelling so warm and friendly, with swallows darting in and out of the doorway to their nests in the roof; stables with gentle horses who ate the green stuff you gave them without biting you; guinea-pigs, the property of Master Walter Pescod, who was a weekly boarder at Cirencester; fantail pigeons; bantams; ferrets, very frightening to everyone but Kink, who knew just how to hold them; and a turnip-slicer, which Gregory turned for some time, munching turnip all the while.
Pescod said, "anyone can have light, few yew hedges like that in the world." Mrs. Pescod was a comfortable, smiling woman whose one idea was that everyone must either be hungry or in need of feeding up. All of the children in turn she looked at anxiously, saying that she was sure that they had not had enough to eat.
As a matter of fact, they had not perhaps eaten as much as they would have done at Chiswick, and they had, of course, worked harder; but they were all very well, and said so. But it made no difference to Mrs. Pescod. "Ah, my dear," she said to Janet, "you're pale. I shouldn't like you to go back to your ma looking like that. No, while you're here you must have three good meals.
Mrs. Pescod led the girls round with her on an egg-hunt, which is always one of the most interesting expeditions in life; and Mr. Pescod, as the evening drew on, allowed the boys to accompany him with his gun to get a rabbit or two under the hedge, and he permitted Jack to fire it off.
I have very good letters to Daniel Blood, Dolores Hoofer, Senator Pinchbeck, Violet Curzon-Meyer, and Julia Pescod, so I ought to get along all right socially at any rate. It would be quite impossible to give an adequate description of one's first glimpse of Broadway at night I should like to have a little pocket memory of it to take out and look at whenever I feel depressed.
This was at five o'clock, and as supper was at half-past eight, Janet urged the others to explore as much as possible, or they would have no appetite, and then Mrs. Pescod would be miserable. It was a delightful farm.
"Yes," said William, "instead of missing a rabbit." Mrs. Pescod, of course, wanted the children to sleep indoors, but they would not. "It is our very last night in the caravan," said Janet, "and we couldn't give it up." So Mrs. Pescod instead made them promise to come to breakfast, and gave them each a large cake of her own making in case they felt hungry in the night.
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