Bob the Castaway

Bob! Bob! called a woman in loud tones as she came to the kitchen door her arms with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows covered with flour. Bob I want you to go to the store for me. I need some more lard for this pie-crust. There was no answer and the woman looked across the big yard at one side of the cottage. Where can that boy be? Mrs. Henderson murmured. I saw him here a little while ago. He's never around when I want him. I shouldn't be surprised but what he was planning some joke. Oh dear! I wish he was more steady and wasn't always up to some mischief. Still he's a good boy at heart and perhaps he'll grow better when he gets older. She rubbed her left cheek with the back of her hand leaving a big patch of flour under one eye. Then she called once more. Bob! Bob Henderson! Where are you? I want you to go to the store. Here I am mother. Were you calling me? asked a boy emer-ging from behind a big apple tree.