The Tale of Holly How Read Online Free PDF Page B

reconnoitering expedition outside the garden, seemed to know a great deal about almost everything, which made him a useful person, in Caroline’s view. He lived with his aunt Jane in a small cottage near Cunsey Beck and always carried a sketchbook with him so he could draw pictures of animals.
    Of course, Grandmama and Miss Martine had no idea about Jeremy, and Caroline knew better than to mention him. If they’d known, they would have forbidden her to see him. They had made clear that the village children were “beneath” her, an idea that Caroline thought was ridiculously old-fashioned and snobbish. At home in New Zealand, she’d been the same as everyone else on the sheep station. These days, Caroline found herself being angry a great deal of the time, and the idea that some people were better than others was just one of the things that made her angry.
    Jeremy took a telescope out of the canvas pack on his back. “You can get a better look with this,” he said, gesturing at the pony cart on the road.
    Caroline put down her journal and peered through the telescope. The horse had a white blaze on its nose and the green cart was driven by a dark-haired man in a gray shirt, with the sleeves rolled up. A yellow dog trotted beside the wheel.
    “Mr. Chance, of Oldfield Farm. That’s a bit further up the road, past Holly How Farm. The dog’s name is Mustard.” He grinned. “Mr. Chance calls him that to make people think he bites, but he’s not really a bad sort.”
    With an envious glance at the telescope, Caroline handed it back. “Is this new?”
    “Miss Potter gave it to me. The lady who owns Hill Top Farm. I met her when she was drawing frogs for a book. She’s famous for her kids’ books, my aunt says. Little kids,” he added, with another grin. “But I wish I could draw frogs as well as she does.” He glanced at her journal. “I won’t interrupt your writing,” he added, taking a pad and pencil out of his pack. “I’ve come to sketch. But I did want to tell you about the badgers. The ones at the rock quarry not far from where I live.”
    “What about them?” There were no badgers in New Zealand, but Jeremy had drawn a picture of one for her, when he’d shown her the sett—the badger burrow—on Holly How.
    “A badger digger got them a day or so ago,” Jeremy said matter-of-factly. “I found the sett, dug up, and the badgers gone. I expect the cubs are dead and the sow—that’s the badger mother—will be used for badger-baiting.”
    “Badger-baiting?” Caroline frowned.
    Jeremy’s voice had gone hard. “A dog is tossed into a pit or a big box with a badger, and they fight until one of them is dead. People lay wagers on which will win.”
    Caroline shivered. “It sounds hideously cruel.”
    “It is,” Jeremy said fiercely. “It’s against the law, too. But nobody pays attention. After all, it’s just badgers, and the farmers don’t like them because they get into the grain and the gardens. So everybody turns a blind eye.” He sighed. “Sorry. There’s nothing to be done. I don’t suppose I should have told you.”
    There seemed to be nothing more to say, so they fell into silence, Caroline writing in her new secret code, Jeremy sketching. After a while, Caroline even forgot that Jeremy was there, and became so absorbed in writing about the unhappy scene that had led to the burning of her journal that the tears began to spill down her cheeks. She was wiping them away with the back of her hand, hoping that Jeremy would not notice and think that she was just being a weepy girl, when she saw the black phaeton appear around the bend in the road. With a sigh, she put her journal into the biscuit tin.
    Jeremy looked up from his work with a grin. “Want me to close my eyes so I won’t see where you’re hiding it?”
    Caroline shook her head. “I want you to know where it is,” she said. “That way, if anything happens to me, you can come and get it.” She gave him a serious look.