It was the most
audacious thing he had ever heard. Rob them of their bonfire! Would
that old traitor of a Purday abet her?
Perhaps Purday was as much astonished as the rest; but, after all,
much as the children tormented his bonfires, overset his haycocks,
and disturbed his wood-pile, he did not like anyone to scold them but
himself, much less the new London Lady; so he made up an odd sort of
grin, and said, "No, no, Ma'am, it ain't that they do so much harm;
let 'em bide;" and he proceeded to shake on the rest of his
barrowful, tumbling the weeds down over David's cherished oven in
utter disregard; but the children cried with one voice, "Hurrah!
hurrah! Purday, we don't do any harm, so don't ever grumble again.
Hurrah!"
"And I don't care for HER, the crosspatch," said Johnnie to Annie,
never hearing or heeding Miss Fosbrook's fervent "I am so glad!"
And as long as the foolish boy remembered it, he always did believe
that Miss Fosbrook was so cross as to want to hinder them from their
bonfire, only Purday would not let her.
Miss Fosbrook did not trouble herself to be understood; she was
relieved to have done her duty, and be free to rejoice in and share
the pleasure.
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