"No; I'll stick to you, Chris," he replied, but he did not feel very comfortable.
Walter was a well-meaning lad, but he was very weak, and easily led by the stronger-willed Christopher.
Mr. White knew the Crystal Palace well, and all its many attractions. He took his party to see a show where cardboard figures were made to walk and jump and open their eyes, just like real people.
Then he proposed that they should try throwing sticks, provided for the purpose, at a row of penknives, and if any one knocked a knife over it would be his. This was amusing for a little while; but when no one could get anywhere near a knife, the boys grew tired of trying, especially as they each had to pay a penny for three tries.
At last they arrived at the place where a man has tricycles to let out. Every boy pulled out the rest of his money and begged for a ride. In a few minutes half a dozen little green tricycles where whirling round the curve.
Walter and Christopher despised the idea at first of doing what the little boys did; but when they saw some other youths like themselves get on, they put their pride in their pockets, and each mounted a tricycle. How they did waggle from side to side; and how impossible it was not to laugh and shout at the absurd feeling of the thing!
"This is rare good sport," said Chris at last.
He had but just spoken when he met Mr. White.
"It's ten minutes to one," said the latter. "We must go, or we shan't be on the terrace as soon as the rector. Come along, boys; it's dinner-time."
There was a general turning round of tricycles, and in a few minutes the little party were making their way towards the palace.