“‘Yes; and then it was winter, and now it is summer,’ said Mrs. Meadow.
“‘I wish I knew what he wants to do with that milk!’ said Silky.
“The next morning Norman was there again. He put himself and his jug only half in at the door, and said, somewhat doubtfully,—
“‘Please, ma’am, a ha’penn’orth?’
“‘Come in, Norman,’ said Silky.
“He hesitated.
“‘Come!—come in—come in to the fire; it’s chilly out of doors. You’re in good time, aren’t you?’
“‘Yes,—but I can’t stay,’ said the boy, coming in however, and coming slowly up to the fire. But he came close, and his two hands spread themselves to the blaze as if they liked it, and the poor little bare feet shone in the firelight on the hearth. It was early, very cool and damp abroad.
“‘I’ll get you the milk,’ said Silky, taking the jug;—‘you stand and warm yourself. You’ve plenty of time.’