And
then it was so dark, Patience's rushes did not give light enough to
see to do anything by them even when they did not get blown out, and
when the sun had set there was nothing for it, but as soon as the few
cattle had been foddered in their shed and cave, to draw the mat and
sheepskins that made a curtain by way of door, fasten it down with a
stone, share with dog and cat the supper of broth, or milk, or
porridge which Patience had cooked, and then lie down on the beds of
dried leaves stuffed into sacking, drawing over them the blankets and
cloaks that had happily been saved in the chest, and nestling on
either side of the fire, which, if well managed, would smoulder on
for hours. There the two elder ones would teach Rusha her catechism
and tell old stories, and croon over old rhymes till both the little
ones were asleep, and then would hold counsel on their affairs,
settle how to husband their small stock of money, consider how soon
it would be expedient to finish their store of salted mutton and pork
to keep them from being spoilt by damp, and wonder when their hens
would begin to lay.
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