Children of the Dear CotswoldsHarker, L. Allen (Lizzie Allen)
General
Children of the Dear Cotswolds
Harker, L. Allen (Lizzie Allen)
Cotswold Hills (England) -- Fiction
As he thought of the dogs the big tears welled up again and rolled down
his cheeks. Everything about that first day in England seemed to stand
out before him in a series of pictures like those he had once seen at a
theatre in India. There was all the bustle and rushing at Charing
Cross. Uncle Gerald, tall, with closely-trimmed grey beard, and kind
keen eyes under his broad forehead—such a lot of forehead Uncle Gerald
had. Ronnie even remembered hearing Mrs. Frith say, "Oh, he’s a dear
little soul, very talkative and officious, but quite affectionate;
cheerful too—which is a great matter with children, don’t you think?"
Then there was a scramble for luggage. Ronnie’s little cabin trunk was
disentangled. He was embraced by all the Frith family and ayah, and,
hand in hand with this tall, unknown Uncle Gerald, hurried down the big
station to a taxi-cab. They drove across London to another
station—Paddington it was called, where they had tea—and into the train
again for another journey. Then, in the slowly fading spring light, a
long drive in a motor through green country lanes till they turned into
some big gates and drove up to a house whence issued a most tremendous
barking and yapping. The door was opened and four dogs rushed
out—long-bodied, rough-haired West Highland terriers, their colour
ranging from almost black to lightish grey—who jumped all over Uncle
Gerald with noisy manifestations of delight, sniffed curiously at
Ronnie, and as he was not in the least afraid of them, took him into
favour at once and jumped on him—Collum and Puddock and Mona their
mother, and frisky, cheeky little Rannoch, who was no relation to any of
them, and took the greatest liberties with all three.
All Uncle Gerald’s servants had been with him for untold ages, and all
were elderly excepting the housemaid, who had only been there a short
ten years, and occasionally was still spoken of as "that new girl." Her
name was Grace, and she came from somewhere near Perth, and it was to
her care that Ronnie was entrusted for such matters as bathing and
dressing and hair-brushing.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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