he did not dare to break it. He could hear Jinny crunching her sugar-plums with irritating persistency. Why did she not speak? At last she edged round on the sand, and he felt that she was looking at him. "What's the matter wi' you?" she cried peevishly. "You're as dull as dull. Can't you say summat?" John rolled round, squinting up at the pouting, blooming face. "There's not much to say, is there? What's the good of talkin' if you're 'appy?" "I'm glad to hear you're 'appy, I'm sure," retorted Jinny somewhat mollified. "I can't say as you look it, though," she added. Words did not readily occur to John, but he made the best answer that was possible under the circumstances. Throwing out his arm he drew Jinny's face down to his and kissed it. "Now do you believe I'm 'appy," he said. "Well, if you ar'n't you ought to be," said Jinny coquettishly. "Did you see that cocklin' wench, Jack?" "Her as went by just now?" inquired John indifferently. "Nay, I didn't take much notice." "Hoo was a funny-lookin' lass," pursued Jinny. "A bit silly, I think. Hoo stood an' hoo stared at us same as if we was wild beasts or summat." "Perhaps she wanted us to buy some of her cockles," remarked John, hurriedly volunteering the first explanation that came into his head. "Eh! very like hoo did. My word, I wish I'd thought on axin' her to let us 'ave a quart—I'm rale fond o' cockles. Could we run arter her, think ye, Jack?" This was the very last thing which John wished to do, and in order to divert Jinny's mind, he hastily proposed that they should hunt for cockles themselves. "Nay," she returned, "I'll not go seechin' for cockles—I've got my weddin' dress on, see, an' my new boots an' all." "Well, then, I will," cried John eagerly. "I need but to kick off my boots an' socks, an' turn up my trousers, an' paddle down yon by the river; there are plenty hereabouts, I know." "Tide's comin' in—you'd best be careful," screamed Jinny as he bounded barefoot down the slope; but he was already out of earshot. There sat Jinny on the
Prev.
Back
Top