"_No_; I meant to go down by the river, pa, to see if there are any fish."

"Another day will do for that, Eddy."

"No, it won't. I want to go now."

"Oh, very well," said Sir James; and they took the way to the meadows.

Meanwhile Helen and Dexter had gone on some distance ahead.

"There, you see, Dexter; how easy it is to do wrong," said Helen, as, feeling greatly relieved, she hurried on toward the meadows.

"I didn't know it was doing wrong to have a c.o.c.kshy," said Dexter.

"Seems to me that nearly everything nice that you want to do is wrong."

"Oh no," said Helen, smiling at the boy's puzzled face.

"Seems like it," said Dexter. "I say, he was going to scold me, only he found I was with you, and that made him stop. Wish I hadn't thrown the stone."

"So do I," said Helen quickly. "Come, you have broken yourself off several bad habits this last week, and I shall hope soon to find that you have stopped throwing stones."

"But mayn't I throw anything else?"

"Oh yes; your ball."

"But I haven't got a ball."

"Then you shall have one," said Helen. "We'll buy one as we go back.

There, it was a mistake, Dexter, so remember not to do it again."

They were now on the banks of the glancing river, the hay having been lately cut, and the way open right to the water's edge.

"Yes, I'll remember," said Dexter. "Look--look at the fish. Oh, don't I wish I had a rod and line! Here, wait a moment."

He was down on his chest, reaching with his hand in the shallow water.

"Why, Dexter," said Helen, laughing, "you surely did not think that you could catch fishes with your hand!"

"No," said the boy, going cautiously forward and striking an att.i.tude; "but you see me hit one."

As he spoke he threw a large round pebble which he had picked out of the river-bed with great force, making the water splash up, while, instead of sinking, the stone skipped from the surface, dipped again, and then disappeared.

As the stone made its last splash, the reality of what he had done seemed to come to him, and he turned scarlet as he met Helen's eyes.

"Dexter!" she said reproachfully.

The boy took off his cap, looked in it, rubbed his closely cropped head in a puzzled way, and put his cap slowly on again, to stand once more gazing at his companion.

"I can't tell how it is," he said dolefully. "I think there must be something wrong in my head. It don't go right. I never mean to do what you don't like, but somehow I always do."

"Look there, Dexter," said Helen quickly; "those bullocks seem vicious; we had better go back."

She pointed to a drove of bullocks which had been put in the newly-cut meadows by one of the butchers in the town, and the actions of the animals were enough to startle any woman, for, being teased by the flies, they were careering round the field with heads down and tails up, in a lumbering gallop, and approaching the spot where the couple stood.

They were down by the water, both the stile they had crossed and that by which they would leave the meadow about equidistant, while, as the bullocks were making straight for the river to wade in, and try to rid themselves of their torment, it seemed as if they were charging down with serious intent.

"Come: quick! let us run," cried Helen in alarm, and she caught at Dexter's hand.

"What! run away from them!" cried the boy stoutly. "Don't you be afraid of them. You come along."

"No, no," cried Helen; "it is not safe."

But, to her horror, Dexter shook himself free, s.n.a.t.c.hed off his cap, and rushed straight at the leading bullock, a great heavy beast with long horns, and now only fifty yards away, while the drove were close at its heels.

The effect was magical.

No sooner did the great animal see the boy running forward than it stopped short, and began to paw up the ground and shake its head, the drove following the example of their leader, while, to Helen, as she stood motionless with horror, it seemed as if the boy's fate was sealed.

For a few moments the bullock stood fast, but by the time Dexter was within half a dozen yards, he flung his cap right in the animal's face, and, with a loud snort, it turned as on a pivot, and dashed off toward the upper part of the field, now driving the whole of the rest before it.

"Ha, ha, ha!" laughed Dexter, picking up his cap, and coming back panting. "That's the way to serve them. Come along."

Helen was very white, but the colour began to come in her cheeks again as she saw the boy's bright, frank, animated face; and, as they crossed the second stile, and rambled on through the pleasant meads, it began to dawn upon her that perhaps it would not prove to be so unpleasant a task after all to tame the young savage placed in her hands.

CHAPTER TWELVE.

A PLEASANT LESSON.

One minute Helen Grayson was delighted at the freshness of nature, and the genuine delight and enthusiasm displayed by her companion, the next there came quite a cloud over everything, for it seemed to her that here was a bright young spirit corroded and spoiled by the surroundings to which it had been accustomed.

"What's that? What flower's this? Oh, look at that b.u.t.terfly! Here, Miss Grayson, see here--a long thin fly with his body all blue; and such lovely wings. There's another with purple edges to it. Oh, how lovely!"

Helen's eyes brightened, and she began to enjoy her walk, and forget the stone-throwing, when Dexter damped her enjoyment.

"Oh, here's a lark!" he cried, plunging down into a ditch, and reappearing after a hunt in the long wet gra.s.s with a large greenish frog.

"What have you found, Dexter!"

"A jolly old frog. Look here; I'll show you how the boys do up there at the House."

"I think you had better not," said Helen, wincing.

"But it's such a game. You get a flat piece of wood, about so long, and you lay it across a stone. Then you set the frog on one end, and perhaps he hops off. If he does, you catch him again, and put him on the end of the wood over and over again till he sits still, and he does when he is tired. Then you have a stick ready, as if you were going to play at cat, and you hit the end of the stick--"

"Oh!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Helen.

"I don't mean the end where the frog is," cried Dexter quickly, as he saw Helen's look of disgust; "I mean the other end; and then the frog flies up in the air ever so high, and kicks out his legs as if he was swimming, and--"