"
Alas! the keeper catches the rustle, and then a sight of the rod, and
then of Tom's hand and arm.
"Oh, be up ther', be 'ee?" says he, running under the tree. "Now you
come down this minute."
"Tree'd at last," thinks Tom, making no answer, and keeping as close as
possible, but working away at the rod, which he takes to pieces. "I'm
in for it, unless I can starve him out." And then he begins to meditate
getting along the branch for a plunge, and scramble to the other side;
but the small branches are so thick, and the opposite bank so difficult,
that the keeper will have lots of time to get round by the ford before
he can get out, so he gives that up. And now he hears the keeper
beginning to scramble up the trunk. That will never do; so he scrambles
himself back to where his branch joins the trunk; and stands with lifted
rod.
"Hullo, Velveteens; mind your fingers if you come any higher."
The keeper stops and looks up, and then with a grin says, "Oh! be you,
be it, young measter? Well, here's luck. Now I tells 'ee to come down at
once, and 't'll be best for 'ee."
"Thank 'ee, Velveteens; I'm very comfortable," said Tom, shortening the
rod in his hand, and preparing for battle.
"Werry well; please yourself," says the keeper, descending, however,
to the ground again, and taking his seat on the bank. "I bean't in no
hurry, so you may take your time.
Pages:
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226