"But you've got the Sunday each week," exclaimed Nelly: "it isn't any shorter from Tuesday to Tuesday than from Friday to Friday: what a silly boy! The Sunday comes in all the same. Don't you see?"
Rob looked puzzled.
"I don't care," he said "it seems ever so much shorter."
The first day that they were not to go to the mine, Rob said:—
"See here, Nell: if we can't go to the mine, let's go and see old Mr. Kleesman. His furnace must be done by this time. Perhaps he'll be making an assay to-day."
"Oh, good!" said Nelly. "I declare I'd almost forgotten all about him: hadn't you?"
"No, indeed!" said Rob: "I liked the mine better; but let's go there to-day."
"And we'll go and eat our lunch at Ulrica's too," said Nelly. "We haven't taken it there for ever so long: she said so Tuesday. We'll go to-day."
"So we will," said Rob. "Perhaps she'll have stewed chicken."
"Oh, for shame, Rob!" said Nelly.