Wood. So when we reached the lane on
our way home, I bade Isaac good-night, and said I would just run in by
the back way into the farm (we never called it the Academy) and leave
the flowers, that the school-mistress might put them in water. Mary Anne
was in the kitchen.
"Where's Mrs. Wood?" said I, when she had got over that silly squeak
women always give when you come suddenly on them.
"Dear, dear, Master Jack! what a turn you did give me! I thought it was
the tramp."
"What tramp?" said I.
"Why, a great lanky man that came skulking here a bit since, and asked
for the missus. She was down the garden, and I've half a notion he went
after her. I wish you'd go and look for her, Master Jack, and fetch her
in. It's as damp as dear knows what, and she takes no more care of
herself than a baby. And I'd be glad to know that man was off the place.
There's wall-fruit and lots of things about, a low fellow like that
might pick up."
My ears felt a little hot at this allusion to low fellows and garden
thieving, and I hurried off to do Mary Anne's bidding without further
parley. There was a cloud over the moon as I ran down the back garden,
but when I was nearly at the end the moon burst forth again, so that I
could see.
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