“The hired man’s quit!”
“Has he?”
“Yep. Quit this morning.”
It had begun to snow. They turned and made their way back to the house. The information she had received did not cause Jill any great apprehension. It was hardly likely that her new duties would include the stoking of the furnace. That and cooking appeared to be the only acts about the house which were outside her present sphere of usefulness.
“He killed a rat once in the wood-shed with an axe,” said Tibby chattily. “Yessir! Chopped it right in half, and it bled!”
“Look at the pretty snow falling on the trees,” said Jill faintly.
At breakfast next morning, Mrs Mariner having sneezed, made a suggestion.
“Tibby, darling, wouldn’t it be nice if you and cousin Jill played a game of pretending you were pioneers in the Far West?”
“What’s a pioneer?” enquired Tibby, pausing in the middle of an act of violence on a plate of oatmeal.
“The pioneers were the early settlers in this country, dear. You have read about them in your history book. They endured a great many hardships, for life was very rough for them, with no railroads or anything. I think it would be a nice game to play this morning.”