‘but she do only ring they bells and smile at ’e.’
Miss Pink now came near, hurrying from the churchyard as if frightened; she had missed Mr. Pink, who had left the church by another path. Miss Pink begged Mrs. Pattimore to take her home.
‘My brother only thinks of saving Mrs. Moggs’ soul now,’ she said. ‘And something’s been seen in the sea.’
‘They children do tell of a Nellie-bird,’ said Mr. Caddy.
Mrs. Pattimore turned sadly away with MissPink; she had learned nothing from Mr. Caddy.
But when she was gone, though not quite out of hearing, Mr. Caddy said, turning to the duck-pond:
‘’Tis a pretty petticoat that do do it, so Mary do say, and a pair of white stockings.’
Mrs. Pattimore hardly listened to Miss Pink, who was telling her that she believed the beast of the Book of Revelation and the Nellie-bird the children told of were one and the same.
Chapter 8
âO NE OF THEY P RINGSâ
I T was the first of May. The Mockery cliff was white with the daisies that the ignorant and simple-minded will always admireâleaving the Roddites unnoticed.
Though the sun had shone sometimes since Miss Ogle had visited the village, soft rain-clouds had, more often than the sun, covered Mockery in a sweet warm garment that now gave a fine greenness to the grass and opened the daisies.
Mrs. Pattimore was so taken with the morning and with the pleasant thought that cowslips were abroad, that she couldnât help looking into the dining-roomâwhere Mr. Pattimore always wrote his sermons in order to be near to the Deanâto see how busy he was, as she often used to.
He was busy, for his textâ written large upon a page of foolscapââBut this I say, brethren, the time is short; it remaineth, that both they that have wives be as though they had noneââwould, she felt, as she closed the door again without speaking, keep him so for many an hour. Mrs. Pattimore went out with a sigh.
Mrs. Pattimore wore a grey knitted coat, and when she stood in front of the Mockery vicarageâa pretty creature who longed for her mateâshe felt the sun warm and press her like a god on fire. In the lane the sun wasstill warmer. Mrs. Pattimore looked over a gate at Farmer Cheneyâs barns and meadows.
A white cock with shining, fluttering wings, intent upon amorous adventure, chased a pretty black hen; and a bull and a ram in the same field were both busy and playful.
Mrs. Pattimore knelt upon the soft grass of the bank and smelt a daisy. She wished that she had never been taken out of the laurel bush in Norfolk and had continued all her life thinking about the frog. She now knew that she couldnât dream any more, but could only long.
All Mockery was there, and all Mockery was intent upon doing something or other.
James Pring, the mender of the Mockery roads, was standing with his spade over his shoulder before his cottage door. He was looking at the address upon an envelope that he had taken out of his pocket, evidently intending to carry the letter to its proper destination, though not at once, for he put it into his pocket again.
There came a scream from Mr. Cheneyâs rick-yard, and Rebecca Pring, the girl who worked as a daily servant at the vicarage, ran round one haystack and then round another, followed by the gay Simon, whose coat fluttered and shone like the cockâs wing in the sun.
Dorcas Pattimore saw all Mockery happy and gay, and she couldnât help trembling, because she wished so much to be happy too.
The larks sang, the magpies chattered, and the little wrens hopped about in the ivy without saying a word about the nest hidden in that very bank.
Mary Gulliver came by with her fatherâs lunch; she was exactly the proper fair, pretty maid to be thereââand no doubt Simon runs after her too,â thought Mrs. Pattimore, âand Mr. Caddy had mentioned a petticoat, and Mary wore white stockings.â There was plenty of roundness
Miss Pink now came near, hurrying from the churchyard as if frightened; she had missed Mr. Pink, who had left the church by another path. Miss Pink begged Mrs. Pattimore to take her home.
‘My brother only thinks of saving Mrs. Moggs’ soul now,’ she said. ‘And something’s been seen in the sea.’
‘They children do tell of a Nellie-bird,’ said Mr. Caddy.
Mrs. Pattimore turned sadly away with MissPink; she had learned nothing from Mr. Caddy.
But when she was gone, though not quite out of hearing, Mr. Caddy said, turning to the duck-pond:
‘’Tis a pretty petticoat that do do it, so Mary do say, and a pair of white stockings.’
Mrs. Pattimore hardly listened to Miss Pink, who was telling her that she believed the beast of the Book of Revelation and the Nellie-bird the children told of were one and the same.
Chapter 8
âO NE OF THEY P RINGSâ
I T was the first of May. The Mockery cliff was white with the daisies that the ignorant and simple-minded will always admireâleaving the Roddites unnoticed.
Though the sun had shone sometimes since Miss Ogle had visited the village, soft rain-clouds had, more often than the sun, covered Mockery in a sweet warm garment that now gave a fine greenness to the grass and opened the daisies.
Mrs. Pattimore was so taken with the morning and with the pleasant thought that cowslips were abroad, that she couldnât help looking into the dining-roomâwhere Mr. Pattimore always wrote his sermons in order to be near to the Deanâto see how busy he was, as she often used to.
He was busy, for his textâ written large upon a page of foolscapââBut this I say, brethren, the time is short; it remaineth, that both they that have wives be as though they had noneââwould, she felt, as she closed the door again without speaking, keep him so for many an hour. Mrs. Pattimore went out with a sigh.
Mrs. Pattimore wore a grey knitted coat, and when she stood in front of the Mockery vicarageâa pretty creature who longed for her mateâshe felt the sun warm and press her like a god on fire. In the lane the sun wasstill warmer. Mrs. Pattimore looked over a gate at Farmer Cheneyâs barns and meadows.
A white cock with shining, fluttering wings, intent upon amorous adventure, chased a pretty black hen; and a bull and a ram in the same field were both busy and playful.
Mrs. Pattimore knelt upon the soft grass of the bank and smelt a daisy. She wished that she had never been taken out of the laurel bush in Norfolk and had continued all her life thinking about the frog. She now knew that she couldnât dream any more, but could only long.
All Mockery was there, and all Mockery was intent upon doing something or other.
James Pring, the mender of the Mockery roads, was standing with his spade over his shoulder before his cottage door. He was looking at the address upon an envelope that he had taken out of his pocket, evidently intending to carry the letter to its proper destination, though not at once, for he put it into his pocket again.
There came a scream from Mr. Cheneyâs rick-yard, and Rebecca Pring, the girl who worked as a daily servant at the vicarage, ran round one haystack and then round another, followed by the gay Simon, whose coat fluttered and shone like the cockâs wing in the sun.
Dorcas Pattimore saw all Mockery happy and gay, and she couldnât help trembling, because she wished so much to be happy too.
The larks sang, the magpies chattered, and the little wrens hopped about in the ivy without saying a word about the nest hidden in that very bank.
Mary Gulliver came by with her fatherâs lunch; she was exactly the proper fair, pretty maid to be thereââand no doubt Simon runs after her too,â thought Mrs. Pattimore, âand Mr. Caddy had mentioned a petticoat, and Mary wore white stockings.â There was plenty of roundness
Similar Books
