"There, don't you see?" said East, pointing to a lump of mistletoe in
the next tree, which was a beech. He saw that Martin and Tom were busy
with the climbing-irons, and couldn't resist the temptation of hoaxing.
Arthur stared and wondered more than ever.
"Well, how curious! It doesn't look a bit like what I expected," said
he.
"Very odd birds, kestrels," said East, looking waggishly at his victim,
who was still star-gazing.
"But I thought it was in a fir-tree?" objected Arthur.
"Ah, don't you know? That's a new sort of fir which old Caldecott
brought from the Himalayas."
"Really!" said Arthur; "I'm glad I know that. How unlike our firs they
are! They do very well too here, don't they? The Spinney's full of
them."
"What's that humbug he's telling you?" cried Tom, looking up, having
caught the word Himalayas, and suspecting what East was after.
"Only about this fir," said Arthur, putting his hand on the stem of the
beech.
"Fir!" shouted Tom; "why, you don't mean to say, young un, you don't
know a beech when you see one?"
Poor little Arthur looked terribly ashamed, and East exploded in
laughter which made the wood ring.
"I've hardly ever seen any trees," faltered Arthur.
"What a shame to hoax him, Scud!" cried Martin.--"Never mind, Arthur;
you shall know more about trees than he does in a week or two."
"And isn't that the kestrel's nest, then?" asked Arthur.
Pages:
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290