CHAPTER XXXII
CHERRIES, BERRIES, AND BERRY-THIEVES
An evening or two after this we were taught that not even in our retired nook had we escaped the dangers of city life. Winnie and Bobsey, in their rambles after strawberries, had met two other children, and, early in the acquaintance, fortunately brought them to the house. The moment I saw the strange girl, I recognized a rural type of Melissa Daggett, while the urchin of Bobsey's age did not scruple to use vile language in my hearing. I doubt whether the poor little savage had any better vernacular. I told them kindly but firmly that they must not come on the place again without my permission.
After supper I went over and asked Mr. Jones about these children, and he replied, significantly, looking around first to make sure that no one heard him:
"Mr. Durham, steer clear of those people. You know there are certain varmints on a farm to which we give a wide berth and kill 'em when we can. Of course we can't kill off this family, although a good contribution could be taken up any day to move 'em a hundred miles away. Still about everybody gives 'em a wide berth, and is civil to their faces. They'll rob you more or less, and you might as well make up your mind to it, and let 'em alone."
"Suppose I don't let them alone?"
"Well—remember, now, this is wholly between ourselves—there's been barns burned around here. Everybody's satisfied who sot 'em afire, but nothin' can be proved. Your cow or horse, too, might suddenly die. There's no tellin' what accidents would happen if you got their ill-will."
"I can't take the course you suggest toward this family," I said, after a little thought. "It seems to me wrong on both sides. On one hand, they are treated as outlaws, and that would go far to make them such; on the other, they are permitted to levy a sort of blackmail and commit crime with impunity. Of course I must keep my children away from them; but, if the chance offers, I shall show the family kindness, and if they molest me I shall try to give them the law to the utmost."
"Well," concluded Mr. Jones, with a shrug, "I've warned you, if they git down on yer, yer'll find 'em snakes in the grass."
Returning home, I said nothing to Winnie and Bobsey against their recent companions, but told them that if they went with them again, or made the acquaintance of other strangers without permission, they would be put on bread and water for an entire day—that all such action was positively forbidden.