“No, never, William; but in my early days I was as foolish as others. Now, Juno, you may bring in the bedding. We have two or three hours yet, William; what shall we do next?”
“Had we not better make the fireplace all ready for cooking?”
“It was what I was going to propose, if you had not. I shall be here to-morrow long before any of you, and I will take care that supper is ready on your arrival.”
“I brought a bottle of water in my knapsack,” replied William, “not so much for the water, as because I want to milk the goats and take back the milk for baby.”
“You proved yourself not only thoughtful but kind, William: now while you and Juno fetch the stones for the fireplace, I will stow away under the trees the things I have brought in the boat.”
“Shall we let the goats and sheep loose, Ready?”
“Oh, yes,—there is no fear of their straying; the herbage here is better than on the other side, and there is plenty of it.”
“Well, I will let Nanny go as soon as Juno has milked her. Now, Juno, let us see how many stones we can carry at once.”
In an hour the fireplace was made, Ready had done all that he could, the goats were milked and let loose, and then William and Juno set off on their journey back.
Ready went down to the beach. On his arrival there, he observed a small turtle: creeping up softly he got between it and the water, and succeeded in turning it over. “That will do for to-morrow,” said he, as he stepped into the boat; and laying hold of the oars, he pulled out of the bay to return to the cove.