"Well, can I bring it?"
"No, we'll take a non-murderous walk for a change. I'm tired of being shunned by the common objects of the countryside."
"Well, shall I bring Ants, Bees, and Wasps?"
"Certainly not. We don't want to go trailing about Hampshire like two jam sandwiches."
"I mean the book."
"No, if you want to carry something, you can carry my cleek and six golf balls."
"Oh, yes, and then I'll practice bringing eggs down in my mouth from very high trees."
John liked this form of exercise, because at the trifling cost of making one ball intolerably sticky it kept Harold from asking questions; for about two hundred yards he enjoyed this walk more than any he had ever taken with his nephew.
"But birds' nesting time won't come till the spring," Harold sighed.
"No," said John, regretfully: there were many lofty trees round Ambles, and with his mouth full of eggs anything might happen to Harold.