Goodman Blane, and some of the other more seriously minded folk used
to walk into Bristol to church when the weather was tolerably fine.
If it were wet, the little stream used to flood the lower valley so
that it was not possible to get across. Steadfast was generally one
of the party. Patience could not go, as it was too far for Rusha to
walk, or for the baby to be carried.
Once, seeing how much she wished to go again to church, Stead
undertook to mind the children, the cattle, and the dinner in her
place; but what work he found it! When he tried to slice the onions
for the broth, little Ben toddled off, and had to be caught lest he
should tumble into the river. Then Rusha got hold of the knife, cut
her hand, and rolled it up in her Sunday frock, and Steadfast,
thinking he had got a small bit of rag, tied it up in Patience's
round cap, but that he did not know till afterwards, only that baby
had got out again, and after some search was found asleep cuddled up
close to the old sow. And so it went on, till poor Steadfast felt as
if he had never spent so long a day.
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