“She’s going to the strawberry-patch over beyond the orchard,” said Clarence, excitedly. “Quick! Now, all together!”
Amanda had not the hardihood to ignore the resulting chorus of appeals to her. But she passed quickly on out of sight, after turning long enough to wave her hand and answer:—
“Jest be patient, you critters. Gabe’ll ’tend to you when he gits home.”
The colt nearly burst with indignation.
“That settles it,” he shrieked, lashing out with his heels so that there was a great clatter of things loose in the barn. Then he drew back his lips, baring his teeth, and began snapping at the latch-string of the barn-door, which was just beyond his reach.
“It’s a pity,” said Mrs. Cowslip. “I’ve seen your mother let herself in that way many a time, when she was full of grass and eager for her midday nap.”
“If I was only out of here, I could reach that string,” grunted Reginald, with one thought for the colt and two for himself.
“Oh, we know all about you,” retorted Clarence with exasperation. “If you could get out you’d scoot for those artichokes down by the brook and never look behind you, you fat, selfish, kink-tailed little beast.”
“Just you try me,” urged the pig, for he had great confidence in the colt’s resources.
Once more their noses were close together, while Clarence instructed them in the details of a desperate effort designed to gain freedom for them all.