“‘Or a tom-cat,’ says another.
“‘More like a monkey,’ says Sam Rowley, our wicket-keeper.
“‘Never mind what I can climb like,’ says Billy. ‘I’m game to do it; so here goes.’
“‘But if you do get up,’ said the Rector, ‘you will want tools to take off and oil the weathercock, and you can’t carry them.’
“Just then a message came from the house that the Rector was wanted, and he went away in a hurry: and no sooner had he gone than there was no end of chaff about Billy, which ended in his pulling up his belt another hole, and saying—
“‘I’m going.’
“‘And what are you going to do when you get up there?’
“‘Nothing,’ he says, ‘but tie the rope up to the top of the spire, and leave it for some of you clever chaps to do the work.’
“‘What rope shall you use?’ I said.
“‘The new well rope,’ says Billy. ‘It’s over two hundred feet long.’