One Saturday night Peter 's mother called to take him home with her for Sunday . She had been working at Mr. James Frewen 's , and Mr. Frewen was driving her home . We had never seen Peter 's mother before , and we looked at her with discreet curiosity . She was a plump , black-eyed little woman , neat as a pin , but with a rather tired and care-worn face that looked as if it should have been rosy and jolly . Life had been a hard battle for her , and I rather think that her curly-headed little lad was all that had kept heart and spirit in her . Peter went home with her and returned Sunday evening . We were in the orchard sitting around the Pulpit Stone , where we had , according to the custom of the households of King , been learning our golden texts and memory verses for the next Sunday School lesson . Paddy , grown sleek and handsome again , was sitting on the stone itself , washing his jowls . Peter joined us with a very queer expression on his face . He seemed bursting with some news which he wanted to tell and yet hardly liked to . `` Why are you looking so mysterious , Peter ? '' demanded the Story Girl . `` What do you think has happened ? '' asked Peter solemnly . `` What has ? '' `` My father has come home , '' answered Peter . The announcement produced all the sensation he could have wished . We crowded around him in excitement . `` Peter ! When did he come back ? ''
`` XXXXX night .
Life Saturday curiosity custom households jowls lad news spirit texts