Спрут: Калифорнийская история

           ThatsamemorningDyke’smotherhadawakenedhimaccordingtohisinstructionsatdaybreak.AconsignmentofhishoppolesfromthenorthhadarrivedatthefreightofficeoftheP.andS.W.inBonneville,andhewastodriveinonhisfarmwagonandbringthemout.Hewouldhaveabusyday.

           “Hello,hello,”hesaid,ashismotherpulledhiseartoarousehim;“morning,mamma.”

           “It’stime,”shesaid,“afterfivealready.Yourbreakfastisonthestove.”

           Hetookherhandandkisseditwithgreataffection.Helovedhismotherdevotedly,quiteasmuchashedidthelittletad.Intheirlittlecottage,intheforestofgreenhopsthatsurroundedthemoneveryhand,thethreeledajoyousandsecludedlife,contented,industrious,happy,askingnothingbetter.Dyke,himself,wasabig-hearted,jovialmanwhospreadanatmosphereofgood-humourwhereverhewent.IntheeveningsheplayedwithSidneylikeabigboy,anolderbrother,lyingonthebed,orthesofa,takingherinhisarms.Betweenthemtheyhadinventedagreatgame.Theex-engineer,hisbootsremoved,hishugelegsintheair,hoistedthelittletadonthesolesofhisstockingedfeetlikeacircusacrobat,dandlingherthere,pretendinghewasabouttoletherfall.Sidney,chokingwithdelight,heldonnervously,withlittlescreamsandchirpsofexcitement,whileheshiftedhergingerlyfromonefoottoanother,andthence,thefinalact,thegreatgalleryplay,tothepalmofonegreathand.AtthispointMrs.Dykewascalledin,bothfatheranddaughter,childrenboth,cryingoutthatshewastocomeinandlook,look.