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"
I
got
caned
,
too
,
"
Meggie
whispered
,
the
tears
standing
unshed
in
her
eyes
.
"
A
nice
kettle
of
fish
,
I
must
say
.
"
Fee
heaved
her
basket
up
,
swaying
until
she
got
it
balanced
.
"
Well
,
Meggie
,
I
do
n't
know
what
to
do
with
you
.
We
'll
have
to
wait
and
see
what
Daddy
says
.
"
And
she
walked
off
across
the
backyard
toward
the
flapping
half-full
clotheslines
.
Rubbing
her
hands
wearily
around
her
face
,
Meggie
stared
after
her
mother
for
a
moment
,
then
got
up
and
started
down
the
path
to
the
forge
.
Frank
had
just
finished
shoeing
Mr.
Robertson
's
bay
mare
,
and
was
backing
it
into
a
stall
when
Meggie
appeared
in
the
doorway
.
He
turned
and
saw
her
,
and
memories
of
his
own
terrible
misery
at
school
came
flooding
back
to
him
.
She
was
so
little
,
so
baby-plump
and
innocent
and
sweet
,
but
the
light
in
the
eyes
had
been
brutally
quenched
and
an
expression
lurked
there
which
made
him
want
to
murder
Sister
Agatha
.
Murder
her
,
really
murder
her
,
take
the
double
chins
and
squeeze
...
Down
went
his
tools
,
off
came
his
apron
;
he
walked
to
her
quickly
.
"
What
's
the
matter
,
dear
?
"
he
asked
,
bending
over
until
her
face
was
level
with
his
own
.
The
smell
of
vomit
rose
from
her
like
a
miasma
,
but
he
crushed
his
impulse
to
turn
away
.
"
Oh
,
Fruh-Fruh-Frank
!
"
she
wailed
,
her
face
twisting
up
and
her
tears
undammed
at
last
.
She
threw
her
arms
around
his
neck
and
clung
to
him
passionately
,
weeping
in
the
curiously
silent
,
painful
way
all
the
Cleary
children
did
once
they
were
out
of
infancy
.
It
was
horrible
to
watch
,
and
not
something
soft
words
or
kisses
could
heal
.
When
she
was
calm
again
he
picked
her
up
and
carried
her
to
a
pile
of
sweet-smelling
hay
near
Mr.
Robertson
's
mare
;
they
sat
there
together
and
let
the
horse
lip
at
the
edges
of
their
straw
bed
,
lost
to
the
world
.
Meggie
's
head
was
cradled
on
Frank
's
smooth
bare
chest
,
tendrils
of
her
hair
flying
around
as
the
horse
blew
gusty
breaths
into
the
hay
,
snorting
with
pleasure
.
"
Why
did
she
cane
all
of
us
,
Frank
?
"
Meggie
asked
.
"
I
told
her
it
was
my
fault
.
"
Frank
had
got
used
to
her
smell
and
did
n't
mind
it
any
more
;
he
reached
out
a
hand
and
absently
stroked
the
mare
's
nose
,
pushing
it
away
when
it
got
too
inquisitive
.
