At this instant the sound of a wordy altercation, momentarily growing livelier, floated up from the kitchen windows, and Mrs. Burton started to act as arbitrator.
“We want it. That’s why,” was heard from Budge, as Mrs. Burton entered the kitchen.
“Want what?” asked the mistress of the house.
“Why,” said Budge, his face lighting with the anticipation of assistance close at hand, “we’ve found a big nest full of eggs in the grass, a good way off, an’ we want to boil ’em and eat ’em, and I’ve asked Bridget over an’ over again for a pail to boil ’em in, and all she says is, ’Niver a bit.’”
“Which she is perfectly right in saying,” said Mrs. Burton,” when, as I assume from what I overheard as I came in, you did not tell her what you wanted of the pail.”
“Well, I couldn’t help remembering what you said to Uncle Harry the other evening—that you had the most utter contempt for people that always wanted to know about other people’s business. I don’t know what ’utter contempt’s means, but I thought, from the way you said it, you meant folks who was always askin’ questions about what other folks was doin’.”
Mrs. Burton hastily took a small pail from a shelf and gave it to Budge, who walked off while his aunt, recollecting her good resolutions, retired and wept despairingly. The idea of letting two small children eat a lot of eggs between meals! No one knew where they were or how many eggs they had; probably they had built a fire where no fire should be, and what damage they were threatening to property and life only Heaven knew. She wished herself within the councils of Heaven; she committed a dozen frightful heresies while she wondered, but came back by necessity to the virtue of resignation, for how to find her nephews would have puzzled a head more experienced than her own in the ways of small boys.
“WHEN WE COOKED ’EM, WHAT DO YOU THINK?”
Her morning was spent in vague attempts to do something, and it was with satisfaction that she beheld her two nephews approaching by a road which led through woods and fields. The borrowed pail was not visible, but Mrs. Burton did not notice its absence. Toddie dropped dejectedly upon a large stone in the back yard, and Budge sauntered into the sitting-room with the air of a man of the world who had squeezed life’s orange and found it juiceless.