"I have done my exercise," says Dolly, speaking for the first time, "and so has Alan."
"Of course you have," says Jack; "did either of you ever do anything without the other? You eat, drink, weep, wipe up the blots from your copy-books with your noses, and, I believe, snore simultaneously!"
"I wonder how soon the bells will strike up," I say, walking to the window and looking out into the broad, peaceful fairness of the Sabbath morning. There is no sound of work or voices abroad, the court is very still, save for the voice of a thrush in the yew-tree yonder, who sings as gaily and loudly as though it were not Sunday at all, but common, homely week-day. The shrill bark of the grasshoppers sounds quite plainly from the lawn, the flowers are ruffled gently by the soft light wind; they have not changed their lovely garments or put on a different colour because it is Sunday, happier in this than we mortals who make it a point of honour to smarten ourselves up for the Lord's day, and yet never emulate those dainty blossoms in their delicate, heaven-dyed tints. The cocks and hens pace gravely by, dirty and disreputable as on any other day, and I look at them with attention, wondering whether either of them has laid an egg, a practice in very great disfavour among the tribe, and am inclined to think, from the sidelong strut and complacency of a youthful matron of the Brahma species, that she has done her duty in that state of life to which it has pleased Providence to call her.
"I shall kill that pair of black Hamburghs to-morrow," says Jack, nodding towards two straggling wretches (why are all his fowls so lean?), who are scratching in blessed unconsciousness of the Nemesis of impecuniosity that walks behind them. "I want three shillings, and I don't know any other way of getting it."
"Mamma won't buy any more of you," I say with conviction;
