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Updated: June 3, 2025
This name was, of course, reduced in its fair proportions by little Alice, who, however, retained the latter part thereof in preference to the former, and styled her maid Poopy. Young Master Corrie, on the other hand, called her Kickup or Puppy, indifferently, according to the humour he chanced to be in when he met her, or to the word that rose most readily to his lips.
"What a figure!" exclaimed Alice, on recovering from the first shock. "It vill vash," said Poopy, in a deprecatory tone. "I hope it will," replied Alice, shaking her head doubtfully, for her experience in the laundry had not yet been so extensive as to enable her to pronounce at once on the eradicability of such a frightfully deep impression.
"Will me?" whispered Poopy, in a tone of self-reproach; then in a loud voice, "Oh, no! it not all hup yet, Miss Alice. See, me go at it agin." And "go at it" she did in a way that actually alarmed her companions. At any other time Corrie would have exploded with laughter, but the poor boy was thoroughly overwhelmed by the suddenness and the extent of his misfortune.
Taking these things into consideration, he thrust back the knife which he had half unsheathed, and, retreating with the slow, gliding motion of a serpent, got beyond the chance of being detected, just as Bumpus rose to follow Poopy to the cave. The savage entered its yawning mouth in a few seconds, and glided noiselessly into its dark recesses like an evil spirit.
The poor child was too much terrified to move, even had she dared, for she, too, had heard the unaccountable cries of Poopy, although, owing to distance and the wild nature of these cries, she had failed to recognise the voice. When, therefore, her jailer left her with this threat, she coiled herself up in the smallest possible space, and began to sob quietly.
Corrie gasped in his effort not to break down; Alice wept with silent joy as she continued to chafe the man's limbs; and Poopy went off into a violent fit of hysterical laughter, in which her "hee, hees" resounded with terrible shrillness among the surrounding cliffs. "Now, then, let's to work again with a will," said Corrie. "What d'ye say to try punching him?"
Now, good reader, this maybe all very well for us to describe, and for you to read, but it was a terrible thing for Poopy to witness. Being bound hand and foot, she was compelled to look on; and, to say truth, she did look on with uncommon interest.
Holding this opinion, and begging the reader to observe that we make the statement gravely and in an entirely philosophical, way, we repeat that Poopy was, figuratively speaking, a donkey!
Poopy, although sluggish by nature, was rather abrupt and violent in her impulses at times. Without further warning than the above brief exclamation, she rolled herself towards Corrie with such good-will that she went quite over him, and would certainly have passed onward to where Alice lay perhaps over the cliff altogether had not the boy caught her sleeve with his teeth, and held her fast.
The girl stared with a vacant countenance at the bright, intelligent face of the child, and shook her head slowly. "Why don't you ask me?" inquired Corrie. "You might as well ask Toozle as that potato Kickup. Eh? Puppy, don't you confess that you are no better than a vegetable? Come, now, be honest." "Hee! hee!" replied Poopy. "Humph! I thought so. But that's an odd question of yours, Alice.
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