ERNIE 207 



"I got this one. You ain't got this one, 

 'ave ee ? " 



" Noomye! " I exclaim, while Ernie goes 

 faster and faster. 



This motor-car is not the only toy. The 

 pram-wheels, or " wills," as he calls them, 

 are a source of happiness. A broom tied 

 to the axle acts as a horse, and Ernie goes 

 driving in the road. Other small brats 

 come up, and a puppy dog or two, and 

 great fun they have, often ending up in 

 the stream. 



Ernie's mother is always finding him in 

 the water. She cannot keep him away. 

 He goes out in a clean jersey, knickers, and 

 socks, and suddenly there is a cry for Ernie, 

 a rushing past the door, a curse from myself, 

 and a loud wail. 



" You come out of that water, my boy! 

 I told you not to go in that water. Little 

 devil, you," cries the exasperated mother. 



"Ah'll tull feyther," shrieks Ernie, as 

 he is driven like a porker past the door. 



