“Yes, but what’s the use, if all the little beggars in Kenminster are to be let in to make them wild! And when you knew I particularly wished to have something worth asking Prince Siegfried down to.”
“Never mind, Allen,” put in Janet; “you can ask him to shoot into the poultry yard. The poor things are just as thick there, and rather tamer, so the sport will be the more noble.”
“You know nothing about it, Janet,” said Allen, in displeasure.
“But Allen,” said his mother, apologetically, though she felt with Janet, “the woods are locked up.”
“Locked! As if that was any use when you let a lot of boys come marauding all over the place!”
“Really, Allen,” said his mother, “when I remember what we used to say about old Mr. Barnes, I cannot find it in my heart to play the same game!”
“It is quite a different thing.”
“How?”
“He did it out of mere surliness.”
“I don’t suppose it makes much difference to the excluded whether it is done out of mere surliness, or for the sake of the preserves.”