t, but you are both old enough
to do as you are told. And I should not be doing my duty if I did not
try to teach you," added Aunt Catharine significantly, as she bent and
kissed the little ones good-bye.

"And that just means that she'll punish us badly the next time we're
naughty," explained Darby to Joan, as they clambered over the stile at
the foot of Mr. Grey's turnip field. "Well, I shouldn't mind greatly if
it wasn't putting to bed. I do hate going to bed; don't you, Joan?"

"Yes, werry much; for they're always sure to come for us when we'se not
ready, nurse or Aunt Catharine! They seem to know 'zactly when we're in
the middle of somefin' awful nice, and then they says, 'Bedtime,
chil'ens!' Oh, it's just ho'wid!"

Joan puckered up her pretty face so comically in imitation of nurse's
worried expression, and mimicked Aunt Catharine's lofty tones so
cleverly, that Darby clapped his hands in delight and admiration. Then
they raced each other along the breezy headland, across the
sweet-smelling stubble field, through the stackyard and the orchard,
until, flushed and breathless, they stood beside the mistress in the
cool, red-tiled dairy of Copsley Farm.

Mrs. Grey was always well pleased to see the little folks from Firgrove,
and made them warmly welcome; just as, in the long-ago days, she had
welcomed their father when he too found it a relief sometimes to slip
away from the prim precision of his aunts' establishment, and come
rushing up the hill to count the calves, tease the turkey-cock, ride the
donkey, plague the maids, and generally enjoy himself to his heart's
content. She dearly loved children although, as Joan said, she had none
of her own; and the day always seemed brighter to her when Darby and
Joan came flying over the fields to pay her one of their frequent
visits.

There was a new donkey at the farm in those days, and as neither of the
children was particular about a saddle, they rode him in turn until
Neddy rose in revolt--actually, with his heels in the air!--or lay down,
which was more hopeless still; for once he did that they knew that he,
for one, had frolicked enough, that day, at any rate. But there were
other things. They played hide-and-seek round the stacks with Scott the
huge collie, who was so gentle that he would allow Joan to put her
fingers in his eyes or pull his big bushy tail. They gathered apples in
the orchard, hazel nuts in the copse, late blackberries from the hedge
at the bac