"Nothing is too good for Jack, is it, mother?" asked Fairy, with an
imperceptible nod at Willie.
"It is very unsuitable, Fairy, and I think it is a pity you cut up that
quilt for it; but come and help me to finish this smock, you idle child,
do."
"That dreadful smock! and I know Jack will never, never, never put it
on, though we have pricked our fingers over it for weeks. And John will
be angry, and insist, and Jack will be in a passion, and refuse, and
instead of having a nice happy birthday, poor old Jack will be
miserable. Mother, let's give him the smock to-night, and have the row
over before to-morrow. Run and get me my thimble, Charlie, please, and
Willie, thread my needle for me, and I'll soon help mother to finish
this ugly smock," said Fairy, seating herself with a business-like air
as she folded up the shaving-case in some silk paper.
"Well, it is not a bad plan, Fairy; we will give Jack the smock when he
comes in this evening," said Mrs. Shelley.
"Yes; and I'll keep my present till to-morrow, and that will put him in
a good temper, before we start for our picnic," said Fairy, stitching
away with great energy. An hour later, just as the smock was finished
and the boys were gone to get tea ready, the shepherd entered at the
gate carrying a quantity of wheatears threaded on crow-quills.
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