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~~~
Imagination) and it came when she called it, went where she steered it, did what she told. The farm boy did what she told him too. Actually, he was more of a young man now, but he had been a farm boy when, orphaned, he had come to work for her fatherm and Buttercup referred to him that way still. "Farm Boy, fetch me this"; "Get me that, Farm Boy---quickly, lazy thing, trot now or I'll tell Father."
"As you wish."
That was all he ever answered. "As you wish." Fetch me thatm Farm Boy. "As you wish." Dry this, Farm Boy. "As you wish." He lived in a hovel out near the animals and, according to Buttercup's mother, he kept it clean. He even read when he had candles.
"I'll leave the lad an arce in my will," Buttercup's father was fond of saying, (They had arces then.)
"You'll spoil him," Buttercup's mother always answered.
"He's slaved for many years; hard work should be rewarded."
Then, rather than continue the aruement (they had arguements then too), they would both turn on their daughter.
"You didn't bathe," her father said.
"I did, I did" from Buttercup.
"Not with water," her father continued. "You reek like a stallion."
"I've been riding all day," Buttercup explained.
"You must bathe, Buttercup," her mother joined in. "The boys fon't like their girls to smell of stables."
"Oh, the boys!" Buttercup fairly exploded. "I do not care about 'the boys.' Horse loves me and that is quite sufficient, thank you."
She said that speech loud, and she said it often.
But, like it or not, things were beginning to happen.
P.4
 ClsetMnstersGoRAWR · Fri Jun 05, 2009 @ 09:00pm · 0 Comments |
