and hitched-up trousers, not a bit afraid, but shouting and quieting him
into submission with the stick when he kicked and bit, tickled by the
washing brush passing under the belly. Then the wrestling, sparring,
ball-playing of the lads when their work was done, the pale, pathetic
figure of the Demon watching them. He was about to start for Portslade and
back, wrapped, as he would put it, in a red-hot scorcher of an overcoat.

Esther often longed for a romp with these boys; she was now prime
favourite with them. Once they caught her in the hay yard, and fine sport
it was in the warm hay throwing each other over. Sometimes her wayward
temper would get the better of her, but her momentary rage vanished at the
sound of laughter. And after their tussling they would walk a little while
pensively, until perhaps one, with an adroit trip, would send the other
rolling over on the grass, and then, with wild cries, they would run down
the drove-way. Then there was the day when the Wool-gatherer told her he
was in love, and what fun they had had, and how well she had led him into
belief that she was jealous! She had taken a rope as if she were going to
hang herself, and having fastened it to a branch, she had knelt down as if
she were saying her prayers. The poor Wool-gatherer could stand it no
longer; he had rushed to her side, swearing that if she would promise not
to hang herself he would never look at another girl again. The other boys,
who had been crouching in the drove-way, rose up. How they did chaff the
Wool-gatherer! He had burst into tears and Esther had felt sorry for him,
and almost inclined to marry him out of pity for his forlorn condition.

Her life grew happier and happier. She forgot that Mrs. Latch would not
teach her how to make jellies, and had grown somewhat used to Sarah's
allusions to her ignorance. She was still very poor, had not sufficient
clothes, and her life was full of little troubles; but there were
compensations. It was to her that Mrs. Barfield always came when she