"I think he's bully," said Basil. "I guess you're bully too, ain't you? And it's a bully place. Hi, Mert, there's a squirrel! Look at him running up that tree. My! Wish I had a pea-shooter!"
"Bet you couldn't hit him if you had!" cried Merton, as all three children watched the squirrel with breathless interest.
"Bet I could!" said Basil, contemptuously.
"Guess he could hit it when you couldn't hit a barn in the next county!" cried Susan D. in a kind of small shriek; then she caught Margaret's eye, blushed furiously, and tried to get behind her bread and butter.
"I say! can we go out in the garden?" cried Basil.
"Yes, indeed, but wouldn't you like to come up and see your rooms first? Such pleasant rooms! I am sure you will like them."
But none of the children cared to see the pleasant rooms. Receiving permission to play till they heard the dinner-bell, they fled suddenly, as if the constable were at their heels. Margaret saw their legs twinkling across the grass-plot. They were yelling like red Indians. Susan D.'s hat blew off at the third bound; Basil shied his cap into a bush with a joyous whoop, then snatched off his brother's and threw that after it. Merton grappled him with a shout, and they rolled over and over at the feet of their sister, who bent down and pummelled them both with might and main, shrieking with excitement. As Margaret gazed aghast, preparing to fly and interfere, she heard a quiet laugh behind her, and turning, saw Mr. Montfort looking over her shoulder.
"Battle, Murder, and Sudden Death!" he said. "Separate them? On no account, my dear! They have been shut up for hours, and their muscles need stretching. Don't be alarmed, my child; I know this kind." Poor Margaret sighed. She did not know this kind.