“Sha’n’t. It’s our place, and I sha’n’t go for you.”
“Will you go out quietly?”
“No, I shall stop as long as I like.”
“Once more, Master Philip, will you go?”
“No!” yelled the boy; “and you give me back my cane.”
“Will you go, sir? Once more.”
“Send that beggar away, and not me,” cried the boy.
“I shall stop till I choose to go, and I shall pick the peaches if I like.”
Mr Solomon looked down at him aghast for a few moments, and then, as the boy made a snatch at his cane, he caught him up, tucked him under his arm, and carried him out, kicking and struggling with all his might.
I followed close behind, thoroughly enjoying the discomfiture of my enemy, and was the better satisfied for seeing the boy thrown down pretty heavily upon a heap of mowings of the lawn.