Come, my dear.

We must go home.

Ar-cher! Ja-cob!" "Ar-cher! Ja-cob!" Johnny piped after her, pivoting round on his heel, and strewing the grass and leaves in his hands as if he were sowing seed.

Archer and Jacob jumped up from behind the mound where they had been crouching with the intention of springing upon their mother unexpectedly, and they all began to walk slowly home.
"Who is that ?" said Mrs.Flanders, shading her eyes.
"That old man in the road ?" said Archer, looking below.
"He's not an old man," said Mrs.Flanders.

"He's--no, he's not--I thought it was the Captain, but it's Mr.Floyd.Come along, boys." "Oh, bother Mr.Floyd!" said Jacob, switching off a thistle's head, for he knew already that Mr.Floyd was going to teach them Latin, as indeed he did for three years in his spare time, out of kindness, for there was no other gentleman in the neighbourhood whom Mrs.Flanders could have asked to do such a thing, and the elder boys were getting beyond her, and must be got ready for school, and it was more than most clergymen would have done, coming round after tea, or having them in his own room -- as he could fit it in--for the parish was a very large one, and Mr.
Floyd, like his father before him, visited cottages miles away on the moors, and, like old Mr.Floyd, was a great scholar, which made it so unlikely--she had never dreamt of such a thing.