"I'm a-goin' into service," said Peggy, with uplifted head.
"Oh, you por critter!"
Then they danced round her singing—
"Worked in the army, worked in the navy,
But most worked o' all is the poor little slavey;
Cookin' and scrubbin', dustin' and runnin',
Missis is allays a-beatin' and scoldin'!"
Peggy turned upon them furiously.
"You keep your tongues quiet. I'm a-goin' to the country, I am! When you gets taken for a day's 'curshion, you think o' me! Not pickin' flowers and eatin' apples and blackberries one day in the year, but all the year round, all day long, I'll be doin' it! I shall live in a hop-garding orchard, and never want no dinner off sassages or herrins, for I shall eat strawberries and plums and grapes till I got quite a tired o' their taste!"
"Go it, Peg!" cried out a small boy. "And where be yer goin' to live? In a carawan?"
"In a white house," went on Peggy waxing warm in her enthusiasm, "with walls covered with roses, and a green door; and vi'lets, and lilies and chrysanthys all over the garding, and a pond with swans, and a fountain—"
"Garn wi' yer!"
A piece of mud was flung at her. Peggy beat a hasty retreat, and tumbled into the arms of Miss Churchhill.