By this time, the children were all standing by the table singing their pretty grace before meat. When they sat down Cassowary called out, "Dad, can't we take Cousin over to see the Russian? You'll like him, Dallas. He's all hairy like a dog."
"Thank you," said my young master politely; "if he isn't getting hurt, I should like to see him."
"We can take over the Russian blouse Mother is making for him," said the girl, "and you can see for yourself, Dallas, how kind the warden and his son are to him. But of course he must keep clean."
Dallas shuddered. He had great sympathy for anyone forced to go into the water that cold morning.
"We'll go after breakfast," said Cassowary, "just the big kids."
At this, there was a howl from Sojer, Dovey and Big-Wig who were evidently the little kids. Up here in the Canadian backwoods it was just like the same old story as in cities—the big children were always trying to get away from the little ones.
Mrs. Devering gave her husband a helpless look. By this time the cereal had been put on the table by Big Chief and the children were busily eating it and pouring on plenty of rich wonderful cream. Oh! how I wished that some of the pale young children in cities could have such cream.
"Daddy," said Mrs. Devering, "what are we going to do with these noisy children? They are as full of sound as empty vessels."
"I don't know," said Mr. Devering. "I wonder whether it is because they are growing so fast. They never yelled like this before."