I felt inclined to throw the shoes into the middle of his flower-bed.  But I thought my father might be angry, so I didn’t.  I went round to the back door, and there the Colonel’s wife met me and took the shoes from me.  She looked a timid little woman and had her hands all over flour as though she were making bread.  She seemed to be terribly afraid of her husband whom I could still hear stumping round the house somewhere, grunting indignantly because I had come to the front door.  Then she asked me in a whisper if I would have a bun and a glass of milk.  And I said, “Yes, please.”  After I had eaten the bun and milk, I thanked the Colonel’s wife and came away.  Then I thought that before I went home I would go and see if the Doctor had come back yet.  I had been to his house once already that morning.  But I thought I’d just like to go and take another look.  My squirrel wasn’t getting any better and I was beginning to be worried about him.

So I turned into the Oxenthorpe Road and started off towards the Doctor’s house.  On the way I noticed that the sky was clouding over and that it looked as though it might rain.

I reached the gate and found it still locked.  I felt very discouraged.  I had been coming here every day for a week now.  The dog, Jip, came to the gate and wagged his tail as usual, and then sat down and watched me closely to see that I didn’t get in.

I began to fear that my squirrel would die before the Doctor came back.  I turned away sadly, went down the steps on to the road and turned towards home again.

I wondered if it were supper-time yet.  Of course I had no watch of my own, but I noticed a gentleman coming towards me down the road; and when he got nearer I saw it was the Colonel out for a walk.  He was all wrapped up in smart overcoats and mufflers and bright-colored gloves.  It was not a very cold day but he had so many clothes on he looked like a pillow inside a roll of blankets.  I asked him if he would please tell me the time.

He stopped, grunted and glared down at me—­his red face growing redder still; and when he spoke it sounded like the cork coming out of a gingerbeer-bottle.

“Do you imagine for one moment,” he spluttered, “that I am going to get myself all unbuttoned just to tell a little boy like you the time!” And he went stumping down the street, grunting harder than ever.

I stood still a moment looking after him and wondering how old I would have to be, to have him go to the trouble of getting his watch out.  And then, all of a sudden, the rain came down in torrents.

I have never seen it rain so hard.  It got dark, almost like night.  The wind began to blow; the thunder rolled; the lightning flashed, and in a moment the gutters of the road were flowing like a river.  There was no place handy to take shelter, so I put my head down against the driving wind and started to run towards home.