But, there, I won’t say anything about it, for the library door was shut, and of course I could only be supposed to know what took place from seeing some eyes looking rather red, and hearing noses blown rather loudly, besides knowing that all three boys wanted dry pocket handkerchiefs, when at last they did come out of the library, Mr Inglis shaking hands with them as he closed the door.
As they stood upon the mat outside, “I say,” said Harry, with a great gulp something like a sob, “I say, ain’t he a jolly father?”
Chapter Nine.
Which is rather fishy.
That very same afternoon, Dusty Bob was in the mill, looking dustier than ever, and trying, as he sat upon a sack of corn that had come to be ground, to spell out the contents of the county paper; but he did not get on very fast, for the white or papery part had, through ill-usage, turned very black, and the black or printed part, by means of the fine flour dust, turned very white. Joining to this the fact that Bob was, as he expressed it, “no skollard,” it may easily be judged that he did not arrive at very correct ideas respecting the news of the day, or rather of the day a month ago; for Dusty Bob did not indulge in the luxury of new news, but bought it fifth, sixth, or seventh hand, not disdaining sometimes the piece which had come from the grocer’s shop wrapping up the pound of salt. The mill was not quite so noisy this afternoon as upon the last occasion when we were all here together, for the flood had gone down, and there was no rush and hurried turmoil from the portion of the river passing down by the waste-water, while the mill wheels turned slowly and steadily round as a sheet of crystal clearness flowed upon them from the great dam.
“Ah, aw, yaw—yaw, aw,” said Bob, bursting out into such a yawn that his not very handsome face looked as if it had been cut in two. “Aw, yaw, aw, aw, heigho—ha, ha—hum.”
“Knock, knock; rap, rap, rap.”
“Hah! more corn; more corn; more corn. Tain’t no use to bring’t, a bit; for we have more noo than we’ve got watter for; and then yow’ll come grummle, grummle, grummle, because ’tisn’t doone; sow yow’d betther tak’t somewheres else.”