James took hold of Bertie first, but he was so strong and his arms were so long, that Bertie could not get near enough to trip or move him in the least, James stiffening his arms and holding him off while Bertie twisted and wriggled like an eel on the end of a spear.
On the other hand James could not throw Bertie, because he was afraid of hurting him, else he might have either twitched him down or have lifted him bodily from the floor and taken his feet from under him at any moment.
“That’s no way to wrestle, you great giant,” cried Bertie.
“I told you I didn’t know how.”
“But you must slack up your arms and give me some chance. How do you think I am ever going to throw you if you won’t let me get near you?”
“I don’t mean you shall; folks don’t wrestle to get thrown, do they? Your grandfather didn’t.”
“But you must give me some chance to get at you or you’ll never learn. How could two men wrestle if one was in the barn and the other in the house; or one here, and the other in Philadelphia? We might as well be.”
Peter flinging himself upon the hay, rolled over and over convulsed with laughter, crying,—
“I’ll bet on James, he’ll hold the ring I’ll be bound, I mean to call grandfather to see the fun.”
“If you do I’ll not try to wrestle again,” said James.