CHAPTER XII 95
" It ' s oftenest naught but bread," he said, " but I ' ve got a fine slice o ' fat bacon with it to-day."
Mary thought it looked a queer dinner, but he seemed ready to enjoy it.
" Run on an ' get thy victuals," he said. " I ' ll be done with mine first. I ' ll get some more work done before I start back home."
He sat down with his back against a tree.
" I ' ll call th ' robin up," he said, " and give him th ' rind o ' th ' bacon to peck at. They likes a bit o ' fat wonderful."
Mary could scarcely bear to leave him. Suddenly it seemed as if he might be a sort of wood fairy who might be gone when she came into the garden again. He seemed too good to be true. She went slowly half-way to the door in the wall and then she stopped and went back.
" Whatever happens, you--you never would tell?" she said.
His poppy-colored cheeks were distended with his first big bite of bread and bacon, but he managed to smile encouragingly.
" If tha ' was a missel thrush an ' showed me where thy nest was, does tha ' think I ' d tell any one? Not me," he said. " Tha ' art as safe as a missel thrush."
And she was quite sure she was.
CHAPTER XII
" MIGHT I HAVE A BIT OF EARTH?"
Mary ran so fast that she was rather out of breath when she reached her room. Her hair was ruffled on her forehead and her cheeks were bright pink. Her dinner was waiting on the table, and Martha was waiting near it.