“Folks that work for you don’t git a chance to come home with the sunlight on their faces,” grumbled Billy. “You keep us to work till dark, and sometimes by moonlight. You’ll find it so, if you come to work for him,” he added, turning to Jack. “’T ain’t like working for Deacon Chatford.”
As Sellick had the reputation of driving his hired men early and late, this hit told; and he made haste to change the conversation.
“Billy’s bilious. Billy’ll feel better arter breakfast. Billy’s smart at one thing, if nothing else,—knife-and-fork practice. If he worked as well as he eats, there’d be no need of his sometimes staying in the field till dark. But come in, come in; breakfast, boys, breakfast.” And he led the way into the house.
CHAPTER XXXV
AT MR. CHATFORD’S GATE.
“How strange it seems,” said Mrs. Pipkin that morning, “not to have Jack around! I don’t believe I should have missed any one of you so much. Somehow I can’t get used to his being away; can you, Mrs. Chatford?”
A tear quivered in Mrs. Chatford’s eye as she replied, “I can’t be reconciled to his going in the way he did. I feel that we are responsible for the boy’s future; and if he had died I could hardly have mourned for him more than I do!”
This conversation took place at the breakfast-table, and it did not seem to help the appetites of those who heard it. The deacon shoved back his chair with a dissatisfied look; for it was an uncomfortable subject to him, firmly as he believed himself justified in withdrawing from Jack his sympathy and support.
“I’m so glad he got away!” said little Kate; “but I’m afraid they’ll catch him again!”