Well, discretion is the better part of valour, and after grumbling out an apology, the postman was allowed to sneak off with a whole skin.
Then Ransey kissed Bob’s shaggy head, and opened his letter.
“Dear Sonnie,—Can’t get home before four days. Look after Babs. Your Loving Father.”
That was all. The writing certainly left something to be desired, but it being the first letter the boy had ever received, he read it twice over to himself and twice over to Babs; then he put it away inside his New Testament.
“Hurrah, Babs!” he cried, picking the child up again, and swinging her to and fro till she laughed and kicked and crowed with delight—“hurrah, Babs! we’ll all away to the woods. Murrams shall keep house, and we’ll take our dinner with us.”
It was a droll procession. First walked Bob, looking extremely solemn and wise, and carrying Ransey’s fishing-rod. Close behind him came the tall and graceful crane, not quite so solemn as Bob; for he was catching flies, and his head and neck were in constant motion, and every now and then he would hop, first on one leg, and then on the other. Ransey Tansey himself brought up the rear, with a small bag slung in front of him, and Babs in a shawl on his back.
Away to the woods? Yes; and there was a grand little stream there, and the boy knew precisely where the biggest fish lay, and meant to have some for supper. The leveret could hang for a few days.
Arrived at his fishing-ground, where the stream swept slowly through the darkling wood, Ransey lowered his back-burden gently on the moss, and lay down on his face in front of her to talk Babs into the best of tempers.
This was not difficult to do, for she was really a good-natured child; so he gave her his big clasp-knife and his whistle, and proceeded to get his rod in order and make a cast. Bob lay down beside the tiny mite to guard her. She could whistle herself, but couldn’t get Bob to do the same, although she rammed the whistle halfway down his throat, and afterwards showed him how she did it.
Well, there are a few accomplishments that dogs cannot attain to, and I believe whistling is one of them.