Part 19 (1/2)
”You needn't think you can hide from me, young man, for I can see you, and if you don't come in here at once, I'll come out there in a way that you'll know it.”
Now this was an eminently natural statement, but hardly plausible as her eyes would have had to pierce an inch board fence to see Georgie; and even were this possible, it would have required a glance in that special direction, and not over the top of a pear tree in an almost opposite way.
Even the boy at the knothole could hardly repress a smile.
”What's she doin' now?” inquired Georgie.
”She stands there yet.”
”I won't speak to you again, George Augustus,” came the voice. ”Your father will be home in a few minutes, and I shall tell him all about what you have done.”
Still no answer.
”Ain't you afraid?” asked the conscientious young man, drawing his eye from the knothole to rest it.
”No! she won't tell pa; she never does, she only says it to scare me.”
Thus enlightened and rea.s.sured, the guard covered the knothole again.
”Ain't you acoming in here, young man?” again demanded the woman, ”or do you want me to come out there to you with a stick? I won't speak to you again, sir!”
”Is she comin'?” asked the baker.
”No.”
”Which way is she lookin'?”
”She's lookin' over in the other yard.”
”Do you hear me, I say?” came the call again.
No answer.
”George Augustus! do you hear your mother?”
Still no answer.
”Oh, you just wait, young man, till your father comes home, and he'll make you hear, I'll warrant ye.”
”She's gone in now,” announced the faithful sentinel, withdrawing from his post.
”All right! take hold of this crust and pull it down on that side, and that'll be another pie done,” said the remorse-stricken George Augustus.
SHWATE KITTIE KEHOE.
BY JAMES CLARENCE HARVEY.
Shwate Kittie Kehoe, Can ye tell, I do' know.
Phwat the mischief's about ye that bothers me so?