"I thought you ought to have the fun of springing out at me, after you'd hidden so nicely," Leslie said.
"Better luck next time," said Rose, and together they ran around behind the cottage to learn if the little brook was as clear, and as rippling as when Rose, in the early Summer, had sailed her little boat upon it.
"The brook is here!" cried Harry. "It hasn't run away yet."
A ragged little chap now approached them, but they did not see him. They were kneeling on the bank and looking at the reflections in a little pool where no ripple stirred the surface.
The comical little fellow might have kept away from them had they been facing him, but as their backs were toward him, he felt quite brave.
He was a droll looking urchin. His trousers evidently belonged to an older brother, as the legs had been rolled over and over in an effort to make them short enough so that he might walk without treading upon them. His blouse must have been the property of the same person, for the sleeves had received the same treatment as the trouser legs, that he might be able to use his hands. Upon his head rested an old straw hat. A big hole in the crown permitted a sprout of red hair to pop out, and a pair of shoes, not mates, completed his odd costume. He continued to approach until he stood within a few feet of Harry Grafton, and then he paused, as if wishing that one of the group might turn, and greet him.
With chubby hands clasped behind his back he waited. He was evidently in no hurry, but after a time he became impatient.
"Hello!" he said, and Harry turned.
"Hello, little chap! Who are you?" Harry asked.
Ignoring the question, the small boy eyed Harry for a second, then he lisped: