Veni! up went their arms smartly,—vidi! down came the dubs to horizontal,—vici! the clubs were down by their sides.
Jack smiled to himself and dozed again. It was scarcely dawn. He was dimly aware of the rain pattering on the shingle roof.
"Ain't ye gettin' up this morning?"
It was Tom standing contemplating him. The children had run out barefoot and bare-armed in the rain.
"Is it morning?" asked Jack, stretching.
"Not half. We've fed th' osses. Come on."
"Where do I wash?"
"At the pump. Look slippy and get your clothes on. Our men live over at Red's, we have to look sharp in the morning."
Jack looked slippy, and went out to wash in the tin dish by the pump. The rain was abating, but it seemed a damp performance.
By the time he was really awake, the day had come clear. It was a fine morning, the air fresh with the smell of flowering shrubs: silver wattle, spirea, daphne and syringa which Ellis grew in his garden. Already the sun was coming warm.