“Look at that, now!” said Kitty; “well, sure, we might try him!”
“You could do no more, then,” said Marg; “but ... there’s the fair-day of Balloch coming round ... and himself might take the notion of selling there some of the cattle; and then he’ll have to be told about the bullock being lost!”
“I suppose that will have to be!” said Kitty, and she ready to cry; “it can’t be kept from him for ever! It was God that done it, that his leg got too bad for him to be able to go round the place, to see the stock and count them himself, this while back!”
Kitty meant no harm to Mickey by that saying; and Marg didn’t think it of her.
“What way is he now?” Kitty went on; “it’s a long time since he took the light from this door.”
“He’s well enough,” said Marg, “barrin’ for the leg, that has been giving him great punishment this good while. Only for that, and that I didn’t wish to be putting any other annoyance upon him, I would have told him about the bullock being lost before now.”
“Wait another little weeny while!” said Kitty, coaxingly; “what would we do at all, if he fell out with Dan?”
“Sure don’t I know that well! and have no wish in life to be making trouble,” said Marg, “carrying stories and telling tales ... only ... you see, he depends on me to bring him the report....”
She sat down then and began watching the children, while Kitty hung down the kettle to wet a grain of tea.
“Ora, Kitty,” said Marg, jumping up, “mind the child! the baby will be killed, if you don’t take heed! Little Mag isn’t able to be lifting him....”