"Well," said Janet, "that's a very nice start.It would have been horrid if the first farmer had been crusty.""Ah," said Mary Rotheram, "but you should see his wife! It was she who did it for us really.Perhaps after dinner we might walk up there to thank her."After dinner! How recklessly young caravaners can talk.But you shall hear....
Kink with much skill got Moses and the Slowcoach into the field and shut the gate, and then the great carriage rocked and swayed over the grass, making no sound but a mixture of creaking and crockery.At last he brought it to a stand just under a tall hedge, and Moses was at once taken out and roped to a crowbar driven in the ground.
"The first thing," said Janet, "is the fire," and Jack and Horace were sent off to collect wood and pile it near the Slowcoach, and fix the tripod over it.As it was quite dry, one of Mr.Scott's lighters soon had it blazing, and Mary, as chief cook, threw quickly into the water in the pot the large piece of brisket they had bought at Woodstock, together with potatoes and carrots and little onions and pepper and salt.
That done, and leaving Horace with strict orders to keep the fire fed, the others began to unpack.First of all mackintosh sheets and rugs were thrown on the ground round the fire, and then Robert and Jack drew out their tent and set it up on the farther side of the fire, some four or five yards away, so that the fire was midway between the tent and the caravan.
The tent was similar to those which gipsies use--not with a central pole, but stretched over half-hoops which were stuck in the ground.It was wide enough for three boys to lie comfortably in their sleeping-bags side by side.Gregory was to sleep in the caravan with the girls; Kink was to go to Woodstock.
Meanwhile, with all of them, except Mary and Gregory, who had done well with Mrs.Gosden's tea, the pangs of hunger were at work, and the steam of the great iron pot hanging over the fire did nothing to allay them.Mary and Janet every now and then thrust a fork into the meat, but its resistance to the point was heart-breaking.
"Hadn't you better have some biscuits to go on with?" Janet said at last;but the others refused.It would spoil the stew, they thought.
"At any rate," Janet said, "let's get everything ready, not only for supper,"-- you see, it wasn't called dinner any longer,--"but for washing-up afterwards."So Kink went off for some more water, and a large basin was set on a box, and dishcloths were put by it; and a rackety search began for plates, and knives and forks, and mugs, and tinned fruits, and more plates and spoons and moist sugar, and all the other things which appear on our tables at mealtimes as naturally as leaves on the trees, but which in a caravan mean so much fuss and perplexity.In fact, all the children returned home with a vastly increased respect for the ability and punctuality of Collins and Eliza Pollard and Jan Masters.
For a while the air was simply full of questions and remarks, some of which I copy down, and you may guess who asked them.
"I say, Janet, where's the tin-opener?"
"Janet, dear, ought we to have napkins?"
"Hester, you little nuisance, get off that box; it's got the bread in it.""Hester, stop reading and come and help.""Horace, the fire's nearly out."
"I wish some of you would stop talking and tell me where the tin-opener is.""Jack, you lazy ruffian, why don't you get some more sticks?""I say, Kink, do you think this old brisket will ever be done?""Kink, does it ruin potatoes and things to stew too long?""Kink, is there any decent way of opening a tin without a tin-opener?""I'm perfectly certain the sugar was in this cupboard.Gregory, have you been at the sugar? ""It's a good deal harder than a rock, still.""Can you make a tin-opener out of a fork? ""I am perfectly certain I saw the corkscrew this morning.""Oh, I say, I didn't come out in this old caravan to die of hunger and neglect.""Mary, where did you put the milkjug? "
"Let's have that beast of a brisket out and cut him up, and put him in again in smaller pieces.""Oh, Jack, how clever you are! However did you think of that?""I expect it's hunger sharpening his wits.""I say, it's all very well to say cut him up small; but he's red hot.I'm scalded horribly.""So am I."
