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"Oh, do tell us about that," cried Junkie and his brothers, turning eagerly to Jackman. "So I will, my boys; but not now. It will take too long. Some other time, in the house, perhaps, when a bad day comes." "No, now, now!" cried Junkie.
Gertrude had come into Dally's tent to fetch Junkie to her father when Sandy Black and his friends entered, but Junkie had just touched the hot teapot, with the contents of which Mrs Scholtz was regaling herself and husband, and was not in an amiable humour. His outcries were deafening. "Now do hold its dear little tongue, and go to its popsy," said Mrs Scholtz tenderly.
In short, Junkie was the innocent cause of many dreadful thoughts and much improper language on the unstable scene of his nativity. Besides these three, there was in the tent a pretty, dark-eyed, refined-looking girl of about twelve. She was Gertrude Brook, sister and idolater of Junkie. Her father, Edwin Brook, and her mother, dwelt in a tent close by.
Och! thriflin' craters like them niver cost me a night's rest, which is more than I can say of the rats in Kinlossie, anyhow." A little shriek of laughter burst from Junkie on hearing this. "What are ye laughin' at, honey?" asked Quin. "At you not bein' able to sleep for the rats!" returned the boy. "It's the way with everybody who comes to stay with us, at first, but they get used to it at last."
Come, help me, Ted," cried Archie, as he ran up the now smoking stairs. "I'll go for Milly!" cried the heroic Junkie, as, with flashing eyes, he dashed towards her room. But Barret had gone for Milly before him! and without success. She was not in her room. "Milly!
From remarks made by various members of the Gordon family and their domestics, both Jackman and his servant had been led to the conclusion that the boy was the very impersonation of mischief, and were more or less on the look out for displays of his propensity; but Junkie walked demurely by their side, asking and replying to questions with the sobriety of an elderly man, and without the slightest indication of the latent internal fires, with which he was credited.
Mrs Scholtz violently protested; and when she found that her protests were useless, she changed them into pathetic entreaties that Junkie would on no account whatever go to sleep in camp with wet feet.
"Hooray!" yelled Junkie, now fairly aflame, as he jumped like the fish, flourished the big hook round his head, and gaffed Quin by the lappet of his coat! "Have a care, you spalpeen," shouted the Irishman, grasping the excited youngster by the collar and disengaging himself from the hook. "Sure it might have been me nose as well as me coat, an' a purty objec' that would have made me!"
When he had gone out, without having condescended to notice any of the household, Master Junkie gave vent to a long-suspended howl, and claimed the undivided attention of Mrs Scholtz, whose touching blandishments utterly failed in quieting him.
As this also met the approval of Junkie, they carried the "divit," or mass of turf, to the bank just above the sleeper, and, taking a careful aim, let it go. The bank was not regular. A lump diverted the divit from its course, and it plunged into the pool, to the obvious discomposure of the fish, which was still at intervals tugging at the line. Another divit was tried, but with similar result.
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