"Ah yes, Master Gratian. It's the winter spirit looking round a bit as I
said. They'll be at it to-night, I fancy--just a spree to keep their
hands in as it were. But go to bed, little master, and dream of the
summer. There'll be some fine days yet awhile," and old Jonas lifted the
pail again. "Madge must give this a scalding before milking time
to-morrow morning, careless wench that she is," he said in a
half-grumbling tone as he disappeared.
And Gratian climbed upstairs to bed.
He had a candle, and matches to light it with, in his room, but the
moonlight was so bright, though fitful, that he thought it better than
any candle. He undressed, not quickly as his mother had told him, I
fear, standing at the curtainless window and staring out, up rather,
where the clouds were still fussing about "as if they were dusting the
moon's face," said Gratian to himself, laughing softly at this new
fancy. And even after he was in bed he peeped out from time to time to
watch the queer shadows and gleams, the quickly following light and
darkness that flitted across the white walls of his little room. It was
only an attic, but I think almost any little boy would have thought it a
nice room. Mrs. Conyfer kept it beautifully clean to begin with, and
there was a fireplace, and a good cupboard in the wall, and a splendid
view of moor and sky from the window. Gratian was very proud of his
room; he had only had it a short time, only since the day he was nine
years old, and it made him feel he was really growing a big boy. But
to-night he was hardly in his usual good spirits. It weighed on his
mind that the teacher at the Sunday School had been displeased with
him; for he knew him to be kind and patient, and Gratian liked to win
his smile of approval.
"It is always the same with me," thought the little boy, "at school
every day too I am the stupidest. I wish there were no lessons in the
world. I wish there were only birds, and lambs, and hills, and moors,
and the wind--most of all the wind, and no books--no books, and----"
But here he fell asleep!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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