“She is lying down with one of her bad headaches; she would clean up the house first, but at last I persuaded her to let me cook the dinner, so I am going to; surely, it is not time yet. Why have you come home so soon, John?”
“Mother ill! That is bad. ‘It never rains but it pours,’ as they say. What am I to do?”
“Why, John; what is the matter? Has anything happened to Charlie?”
“No, child, no, not that I know of; but my sheep have got it.”
No need for Fairy to ask what the sheep had got, for this disease had been Charlie’s sole topic of conversation ever since it had broken out, so, to tell the truth, she was rather weary of it; but for John’s sheep to have it was a serious matter she knew; moreover, she always took special interest in “our sheep,” as she called them.
“Oh, John, have our sheep got it? Oh, I am sorry! I thought you would be sure to escape. How many are ill?”
“Only ten at present; but though I have taken them away from the others, it is so infectious I am afraid they will all get it.”
“Did you come home to tell mother?” asked Fairy.
“No, I came back to ask her to go to Lewes and tell Hobbs, the veterinary, to come and see them as soon as possible, while I take those who are all right to the downs, and go on to look at Charlie’s flock; he may not have noticed the first symptoms. Perhaps I can find someone in the village to go, as mother is ill.”
“Nonsense, John, I will go; I shall like the walk this lovely day. I don’t mind the sun a bit; I love it; besides, I shall be back before the heat of the day. Tell me where I am to go, and what I am to say.”