"Come on!" cried he, in his shrill voice, half like an old man's, half like a baby's. "Who'll begin to gather the cherries?"
A little brown old man's face peeped from behind the cherry-tree.—Page 20
They all looked blank; for the tree was so high to where the branches sprang, and besides, their mother had said they were not to climb. And the ladder lay flat upon the grass—far too heavy for little hands to move.
"What! you big boys don't expect a poor little fellow like me to lift the ladder all by myself? Try! I'll help you."
Whether he helped or not, no sooner had they taken hold of the ladder than it rose up, almost of its own accord, and fixed itself quite safely against the tree.
"But we must not climb—mother told us not," said the boys, ruefully. "Mother said we were to stand at the bottom and pick up the cherries."
"Very well. Obey your mother. I'll just run up the tree myself."
Before the words were out of his mouth Brownie darted up the ladder like a monkey, and disappeared among the fruit-laden branches.