Then I waited, scared-like. But father, he just looked relieved
and he says, says he, 'Goodness, boy, you can be a Presbyterian or
anything else you like, so long as it's Protestant. I'm not
caring,' he says. 'The main thing is that you must be good and do
what's right.' I tell you," concluded Peter emphatically, "father
is a Christian all right."
"Well, I suppose your mind will be at rest now," said Felicity.
"What's that you have in your buttonhole?"
"That's a four-leaved clover," answered Peter exultantly. "That
means good luck for the summer. I found it in Markdale. There
ain't much clover in Carlisle this year of any kind of leaf. The
crop is going to be a failure. Your Uncle Roger says it's because
there ain't enough old maids in Carlisle. There's lots of them in
Markdale, and that's the reason, he says, why they always have
such good clover crops there."
"What on earth have old maids to do with it?" cried Cecily.
"I don't believe they've a single thing to do with it, but Mr.
Roger says they have, and he says a man called Darwin proved it.
This is the rigmarole he got off to me the other day. The clover
crop depends on there being plenty of bumble-bees, because they
are the only insects with tongues long enough to--to--fer--
fertilize--I think he called it the blossoms.
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