"
Accordingly, she rolled up her sleeves and set busily to work; the
others followed her example, and fingers and tongues moved ceaselessly,
in cheerful emulation of each other.
"I'd like to git hold o' Simon Hartley!" said Bubble, slicing vengefully
at a big potato. "I wish't he was this tater, so I do! _I'd_ skin him!
Yah! ornery critter! An' him standin' thar an' grinnin' at me over the
wall, an' I couldn't do nothin'! Seemed's though I sh'd _fly_, Miss
Hildy, it did; an' then not to be able to crawl even! I sw--I tell ye,
now, I didn't like that."
"Poor Bubble!" said Hilda, compassionately, "I'm sure you didn't. And
did he really start to crawl over to the farm, Pink?"
"Indeed he did!" replied Pink. "Nothing that I could say would keep him
from trying it; so I bandaged his ankle as well as I could, and off he
started. But he fainted twice before he got to the gate, so there was
nothing for it but to crawl back again, and--have the knees of his
trousers mended."
"Dear boy!" said Hilda, patting the curly head affectionately. "Good,
faithful boy! I shall think a great deal more of it, Bubble, than if
you had been able to walk all the way. And, after all," she added, "I am
glad I had to do it myself,--go down to the mill, I mean. It is
something to remember! I would not have missed it."
"No more wouldn't I!" cried Bubble, enthusiastically. "I'd ha' done it
for ye twenty times, ye know that, Miss Hildy; but I druther ha' hed you
do it;" and Hildegarde understood him perfectly.
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