I'll l'arn 'ee to gee honest folk
names afore I've done with 'ee."
"My luck as usual," thinks Tom; "what a fool I was to give him a black!
If I'd called him 'keeper,' now, I might get off. The return match is
all his way."
The keeper quietly proceeded to take out his pipe, fill, and light it,
keeping an eye on Tom, who now sat disconsolately across the branch,
looking at keeper--a pitiful sight for men and fishes. The more he
thought of it the less he liked it. "It must be getting near second
calling-over," thinks he. Keeper smokes on stolidly. "If he takes me up,
I shall be flogged safe enough. I can't sit here all night. Wonder if
he'll rise at silver."
"I say, keeper," said he meekly, "let me go for two bob?"
"Not for twenty neither," grunts his persecutor.
And so they sat on till long past second calling-over, and the sun came
slanting in through the willow-branches, and telling of locking-up near
at hand.
"I'm coming down, keeper," said Tom at last, with a sigh, fairly tired
out. "Now what are you going to do?"
"Walk 'ee up to School, and give 'ee over to the Doctor; them's my
orders," says Velveteens, knocking the ashes out of his fourth pipe, and
standing up and shaking himself.
"Very good," said Tom; "but hands off, you know. I'll go with you
quietly, so no collaring or that sort of thing."
Keeper looked at him a minute.
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