“I wants my old clothes, Mammy, where be ’em. Miss Margaret said old clothes; she said old clothes, Mammy, she did.”
It was not until Miss Margaret approved of the brown jersey suit that Tommy submitted and was dressed.
When he was ready he stood in the doorway, and to every one who passed he shouted the news. “I be goin’ a-drivin’ in a gingle to Polderry.” And to the question, “Who with?” he gave the invariable answer, “With Miss Margaret and Miss Dorothea and Ruthie and me.”
After breakfast the sun was hidden behind a cloud of mist. Tommy and the ladies consulted the glass on the front. It was very high, and all the watermen thought there was no fear of rain. Then Mrs. Tregennis packed the luncheon basket, and Tommy wished it was ten o’clock.
Miss Margaret had a happy thought, and suggested that they should go across to West Draeth and themselves bring round the gingle for Miss Dorothea and Ruthie. This was a grand idea. Hurriedly Mrs. Tregennis put on Tommy’s boots and ran upstairs for his warm coat and his cap.
Miss Margaret and Tommy crossed the river by the ferry for quickness. “If you like, Tommy, you shall help me to hold the reins and to drive,” promised Miss Margaret.
“If it be all the same to ee I’d rather have the whip,” was the reply.
“But why?”
“For to hit ’en.”