“And now what do you want?”
For it seemed as if the little gipsy must have exhausted all the errands that could possibly be thought of.
“Could I borry a piece o’ stovepipe—’bout so long—I’ll fetch it back to morry.”
“A piece of stovepipe!”
Lucy would not have smiled on any account.
“Yes, mammy’s sick, and our stovepipe’s rusted off. I’ll fetch it home to morry.”
And before Lucy had time to prevent it, the little try-patience had rushed past her, and effected an entrance into the breakfast room. And, as if her own presence were not unwelcome enough, she was followed by a large, formidable-looking bee.
“Don’t you be scared,” said Pecielena, as the children all screamed. “I’ll catch him and kill him.”
“No, no,” cried Mary. “I belong to the society for cruelty to animals. I can’t let you kill him.”