The terrier jumped for Mrs. Cowslip’s nose. She rose from the tulip-bed, but stood at bay. There was a great clatter of hoofs in the kitchen, and the colt ran out through the open door and began kicking up his heels gleefully under his mother’s nose. The bull-calf, the goat, and the pig arrayed themselves, as for an argument, beside the cow.
“Amanda!” bawled Gabriel. And then to the Poet: “Be you folks hurt, or only skeered? I must a’ missed ye, waitin’ for t’ other train.”
“We’re only scared, I think,” answered the Poet, rising cautiously, with one eye on the goat. Galatea slid down from her perch and joined them.
“Darn the critters!” said Gabriel. “It’s all Amanda’s fault. Of course she had to go trapsin’ off somewhere. Amanda! O Amanda!”
Amanda appeared in the edge of the orchard, with a tin pail in her hand, indicating with a wave of her apron that she was coming as fast as she could with her heaping pail of strawberries.
“I locked ’em up,” said Gabriel. “But, laws, ’t aint no use lockin’ up critters edicated by a college perfessor.”
“Fer th’ land sakes!” ejaculated Amanda, arriving breathlessly and taking in the whole scene at a glance.
The pig went up to her, grunting amiably in his white ruffle.
“You shameless critter!” said Amanda, with her face aflame, as she tore the indecorous garment from Reginald’s neck.
“Ha! ha! ho! ho! ho!” laughed Gabriel. “Serves ye right, Amanda, for goin’ off an’ leavin’ edicated critters loose around th’ house.”