“Fred told me about your bedstead,—how handsome it was,—and about the sink; I must come over and see that. I want you to tell me what you told Fred about the time your father was pressed; won’t you, Charlie?”
“I will, John, some time when we sleep together. I don’t like to tell you in the daytime, because it makes me cry, and I don’t like to cry before folks; but in the night, when we are in bed, I’ll tell you. I liked Fred very much, and so we all did; you tell him I said so—won’t you?”
“Yes; we’ll go over and see him after dinner; by that time the wind will be at the eastward, and you can sail home. Fred has got some tame rabbits.”
“Where did he get them?”
“Some of them are young ones the cat caught, and he got them away from her before she hurt them; and the rest are old ones that he caught in a trap. Are there any rabbits on the island?”
“No, not one; but there’s raccoons and squirrels. Don’t you think, there ain’t any birds there,—only the sea-fowl. Sometimes wild pigeons, woodpeckers, robins, and blue-jays come on there, but they fly right off again; I wish they would stay and build nests. We have such a sight of birds in Lincolnshire! O, I wish you could hear a lark sing! they will start from the ground, and go right up straight in the air, singing all the way; and when you can’t see them you can hear them sing. Why, the swallows build right in the thatch.”
“Thatch! what is that?”
“Why, they cover the houses with straw, instead of shingles.”
“I should think the water would run right through.”
“It won’t; they’re just as tight as can be.”