'But I don't know where to look for them,' George said.
'They are certain to be somewhere in the fields. And take an umbrella with you. Elsie has such a bad cold, I shall be vexed if she gets wet.'
'Oh, Mother, I don't believe it will rain, and I do want to finish painting this rabbit-hutch! It is such a nuisance to leave things half done.'
'My boy, it is not right to argue with your mother when she asks you to do something for her.'
'Bother those kids,' George muttered crossly, as he went off, grumbling, to hunt for an umbrella.
It was a hot, thundery day, and he was feeling still more cross after searching through three fields and finding no trace of the children.
'The clouds are clearing away, and blue sky is showing everywhere,' he said to himself. 'It is perfectly idiotic to go on with this wild-goose chase.'
Then he climbed a stile for a look into the next field, and what he saw almost made his heart stand still.
Rose and Elsie were sitting on the grass, busily arranging some flowers they had been gathering to make a nice bunch for their mother.
Behind them was a large freshly made gap in the hedge, and coming through it was a fierce bull belonging to a neighbouring farmer.