MAY MORNING AT GRIMSTONE
23
"What harrow was that Chard was taking away?"
"Oh, it was ours. He always borrers it."
"Hasn't he one of his own?"
"No. Mrs. Machin lets him borrer anythink he wants. He's such a hard worker."
"Humph. What sort of pudding is this?"
"Spotted Dick."
"Spotted Dick! Good Lord! Why Dick? and why spotted?" He blew a spoonful. "It's awfully hot."
"It's spotted because of the raisins, and it's Dick—just 'cause it is. It's a clout puddin', y' see."
He did not see, but he attacked it vigorously.
