I took no notice, when a half-sucked gooseberry struck me on the arm.
It was a disgusting act on the young coward’s part, but though in a moment I felt on fire, I only wiped it off, when Courtenay threw one and hit me on the face.
I wiped that away too, and raising my can stepped off the path on to the bed to go to the trench, but not in time to avoid a large over-ripe gooseberry which smashed as it struck me in the ear and began to trickle down.
I was in such a rage that the roar of laughter from my two tyrants half maddened me, and I watered that celery in a way that washed some of the roots quite bare.
They were waiting for me when I got back to the tub, and, emboldened by the patient way in which I bore their insults, they kept on pelting me with the over-ripe fruit till I had it in my hair, my eyes, and down within the collar of my shirt.
I ground my teeth with rage, and felt that I could bear it no longer, but I made no sign.
Then they pelted me with words too, inventing ridiculous names, asking me about the workhouse food, and at last I determined to bear it no longer, but go straight up to the house and show Sir Francis the state I was in and beg him to put a stop to this annoyance.
But just then it flashed upon my mind that Sir Francis and her ladyship had gone out the day before to stay somewhere for a fortnight, and this explained the boldness of the two young ruffians, who had never behaved so outrageously before.
“If I go and tell Mr Solomon,” I thought, “he will only tell me I was foolish to take any notice;” and at last, writhing with annoyance, I emptied the barrel and trundled it down to the pond, hoping to leave my tormentors behind.
But no; they followed me and continued their assaults as soon as they had replenished their caps with the gooseberries that were abundant on the bushes, over-ripe many of them, and of monstrous size.