“Eat, eat, eat, and grow, grow, grow,” cried Aunt Ruth.
“Which it is the boy’s natur’ to,” said the old man good-humouredly. “There, be off, Will.”
“Run out now and you’ll catch him before he goes,” said Mr Temple.
Dick hurried out by the front to waylay Will, but encountered Uncle Abram.
“Where’s Will, my lad? Oh! he’s coming. Old lady’s been blowing off steam a bit. Busy day with her, you see. Cleaning. Didn’t hear, did you?”
“Oh, yes! we could hear every word,” said Dick with a comical look.
The old gentleman glanced over his shoulder and then patted Dick on the chest with the back of his hand. “It’s all right,” he said in a deep bass. “She don’t mean nothing by it. Fond o’ Will as ever she can be. Feels often, you know, as she must scold something, and sometimes she scolds Will, sometimes it’s Amanda the lass, sometimes me. Why,” he said cheerfully, “I have known her set to and let the tables and chairs have it for not shining when they were being rubbed. It’s all right, my lad, all right. She’s awfully fond of our Will, and if you hear her say she aren’t don’t you believe her. Here he comes.”
Will came round from the back just then, with his head hanging, and a look of dejection in his whole aspect; but as he caught sight of Uncle Abram and Dick he made an effort to hide his trouble.
“Here he is,” said the old gentleman, clapping Will on the shoulder, “here he is, Master Dick, my nevvy, and as stout and strong a lad of his years as there is in these parts. Your par wants him, does he?”
“My father wants him,” said Dick sturdily. “I never call him pa.”