"Drat 'em! Let 'em. Who cares?"
"Means lickings. . . . And that Kennet he lays on a sight harder than he used to."
"Ever since we caught him in the rat-trap. He remembers it whenever he's licking us. . . . Soon as I'm a man I'm going to kill Kennet. It's the very first thing I shall do."
"I don't know," said Jack doubtfully. "He only licks us when HE tells him to."
"I should think so," snorted Jim, with scorn at the idea of anything else.
"HE always looks at us as if we were toads. Why does he?"
"Damned if I know," said Jack quietly. It sounded odd from his childish lips, but it had absolutely no meaning for him. It was simply one of the accomplishments they had picked up from Mr. Kennet.
An upward glance at the sun at the same moment suddenly accentuated a growing want inside him. He sprang up with a whoop, swinging his rabbit by the ears, and made for the hole in the sand-hill. Jim followed close on his heels, and presently, clad only in short blue knee-breeches of homely cut, and blue sailor jerseys, they were trotting purposefully through the shallows towards Carne and dinner, chattering brokenly as they went.
A grim old man watched them from an upper window till they padded silently round the corner out of sight. They ran in through the back porch, and so into the comfortable kitchen with its red-tiled floor and shining pans, and dark wood linen-presses round the walls.
Old Mrs. Lee, grandmother to one of them, turned from the fire to greet them.