"Dat's a hand fer ye," Tim commented to Jogman, as the pair watched Jean feeding the goat. "A hand like dat ain't friends wit' soap an' water, but de goat ain't too pertickler."
"I washed him about an hour ago," Jogman replied defensively, "but ye can't keep th' boy clean—he ain't happy without dirt."
Jean sat upon the ground as they spoke, still holding the nursing bottle up to Billy's greedy mouth. He understood only a little of what they were saying, but looked up quickly at the last few words.
"I'm happy here—me," he cried. "Bien content—damn!"
The expletive was addressed to Billy who with a sudden tug had pulled the bottle from his hand.
"Do ye know where small boys that swear go?" asked Jogman reprovingly.
"Big boys what swear go to de war," Jean contended, "an' me soldier too."
"If you do it again I'll send ye back to yer aunt at Soissons," said Jogman.
The child sprang to his feet at once, and catching him by the hand cried tearfully: "No!—No!—No!—not back to Soissons—Oh! Je vous en prie, non!"
What strange fear had driven him from home? He couldn't or wouldn't explain it; but he was in great dread of being sent back, and it was the one threat which influenced him.