"A nice state of things," he added with a twinkle, "when every one who comes to ask leave to spoil one of my fields gets a nice tea given them!" and he laughed.
"We shouldn't spoil it," said Gregory.
"Well," said Mr.Gosden, "perhaps you'll tell me how you make a fire.
Isn't it on the ground?
And what do you do with your rubbish?
Clean it up and take it along with you?
Not too likely.

I've had caravaners here before." "We will," said Mary, "I promise"-- seeing as she spoke the necessity of a new official being appointed at once: the Remover of Camp Litter.
"I said the other day," continued the farmer, "that never again would I let a caravan into my fields, didn't I, Bet?
And how can I go back on that ?" "You did say it," said Mrs.Gosden, "true enough, but you're halways breaking your word.

You said you'd bring me a new alarm clock the next time you went to Oxford, and I've never got it yet, and that's months ago." "Never mind," said Mr.Gosden; "it means longer in bed for you.

Well," he added to Mary, "I'll come down with you and look at the turnout and see.

But I must finish my tea first." Never, thought Mary, could anyone have eaten so much tea or taken so long over it, and she was in despair about the others waiting in the road, hungry and impatient; but there was nothing for it but to be quiet, and at last Mr.Gosden was ready.
The others, it was true, had become very tired of waiting, but they had spent some of the time in bringing water from the nearest cottage.