CHAPTER I.
On a sloping lawn, before an old-fashioned, rambling house, Bobbie and Jerry were playing at nine-pins on a hot day in August.
Under the shade of a cedar tree the under-nurse sat working; and "Aunt Lucy"—an old lady with snow-white hair, crowned by a black mushroom hat—was slowly pacing the gravel walk, digging out a weed here and there with a long spud she carried for the purpose.
Jerry was only playing nine-pins because Bobbie was so fond of them. She did not care for them herself, for she thought that as she was ten years old they were too babyish, but Bobbie was only eight, so of course it was not to be expected of him that he would care for "grown-up" things.
There was a pleasant buzzing in the air, as old Jeptha Funnel led the donkey in the mowing machine, up and down the wide lawn, pausing every now and then to exchange a few words with the children.
"When are you a-coming to tea with us, Master Bobbie, and Missy?" he enquired, stopping to fan his heated face with a red pocket-handkerchief. "James Seton's got some guinea-pigs that he talks of bringing over for you to see, any day as you'll fix upon."
"Oh, that is nice. I do so long to have another!" cried Bobbie rapturously. "I only want three-halfpence-farthing more, and I shall have enough in my money-box to pay for it. Will James wait till Friday?"
"Of course he will, Master Bobbie; don't you worry your head about that."
"Well, it's an extraordinary thing, Jeptha, but you can't think how I've been saving, and saving, and saving for that guinea-pig; and it seems as if I never should have enough," said Bobbie confidentially. "I saved up for 'Funnel'—the one that's called after you, you know—in no time; but we were up in Scotland then, and there wasn't hardly any shops that I could spend my money in."
"Things always do seem a long time a-coming when you're longing for them, so to speak, day and night, sir."
"Yes, it's quite true that 'a watch-pocket never boils,'" said Bobbie. "I shall leave off rattling the money-box, and try and forget all about it till Friday."
"You're right there, sir," said Jeptha, not noticing the new rendering of the proverb, for he was as fond of long words and sentences as Bobbie himself; "you come right up to the cottage on Friday, along of nurse and Miss Jerry. The missus 'll have tea for you, and I'll see that Jim brings the guinea-pigs."
"Does James Seton know anything about cats?" enquired Jerry eagerly. "You know they're my favourite animals—just like guinea-pigs are Bobbie's—and I do want to get some new recipes for my cat-book!"
"Why whatever is a cat-book, Miss Jerry?" asked Jeptha curiously.
"Don't you know, Jeptha? I write down all sorts of cures for cats, and what they ought to eat; and several times it's been very useful to Miss Meadows and Maria."
"I can't say I know much about the subject, Miss Jerry, nor I don't think Jim doesn't, neither, never having made a study of it, as you may say. Miss Meadders is the tabby cat, ain't she? A very fine cat I call her."
"Yes; I made a portrait of her and Maria, to send to mamma out in India, and Bobbie made a picture of Funnel (not you, you know). She liked them so much. Shall I tell you why Bobbie is so interested in guinea-pigs?" continued Jerry, taking the old man's hand, and speaking in a mysterious whisper.
"You know Jack belongs to the 'Cavey Club' at school, where all the boys must keep guinea-pigs; and he wrote Bobbie a letter last term with a picture of a guinea-pig on the flap of the envelope, and 'Where is it?' written where the tail ought to be. Ever since then Bobbie has been mad after guinea-pigs."
"Yes, I can remember Master Jack a-walking in here with ten of 'em," said Jeptha, "and keepin' 'em in the lumber room in houses made out of cigar-boxes."
"Oh, but Aunt Lucy found it out, and wouldn't allow it," said Jerry. "They all had to be taken out to the stable yard again."
"I must own I think on that occasion yer Aunt was reasonable, Miss Jerry; a guinea-pig don't seem a kind of a domestic indoor animal—like a cat, for instance."
"Will you have mufflings and crumfits for tea, do you think, when we come?" enquired Bobbie, after a thoughtful pause. "Excuse me asking you, but I do like them so very much."
"Oh, Bobbie, you shouldn't say that!" cried Jerry, reprovingly; "it's very impolite. Aunt Lucy would be quite horrified!"
"Well, I don't mean anything rude," said Bobbie. "I do like them, and I can't help it. I can't see why it's any more rude than if I said I liked guinea-pigs."