"God, when I die, let me pass right away," prayed Jack. "Lord, I promise to live my life right out, so that when I die I pass over and don't lie wriggling in the coffin!"
Mary had come as soon as it was light, and found Herbert asleep and Jack staring at him in a stupor.
"You go to sleep now, Bow," said Mary softly, laying her hand on his arm.
He looked at her in a kind of horror, as if she were part of the dark interior. He didn't want to go to sleep. He wanted to wake. He stood in the yard and stared around stupefied at the early morning. Then he went and hauled Lennie and the twins out of their bunks. Tom was already up. Then he went, stripped to the waist, to the pump.
"Pump over my nut, Lennie," he shouted, holding his head at the pump spout. Oh, 'twas so good to shout at somebody. He must shout.
And Lennie pumped away like a little imp.
When Jack looked out of the towel at the day, he saw the sky fresh with yellow light, and some red still on the horizon above the grey gum-trees. It all seemed crisp and snappy. It was life.
"Ain't yer goin' ter do any of yer monkey trickin' this morning?" shouted Lennie at him.
Jack shook his head, and rubbed his white young shoulders with the towel. Lennie, standing by the wash-tin in his little undervest and loose little breeches, was watching closely.
"Can you answer me a riddle, Lennie?" asked Jack.