“No, he didn’t say that.”
“Oh, that’s all right, then.”
“But it isn’t all right. He scolded me horribly.”
“Pooh! what of that? Every boy gets scolded. Never mind. I say, I daresay we shall get a whole lot of rabbits. How would it be to ask cook to make us a rabbit pie of two of them.”
“Nonsense!”
“Oh, would it be? We could keep it up in the bin, and go and have jolly feeds.”
“Keep it up there, along with that poison stuff and nasty-smelling skins! Ugh!”
“Well, it would be queer perhaps. I didn’t think of that.”
“Mr Rebble’s looking at you two,” whispered the boy nearest, and we hurriedly went on with our work, but not for long. Mercer was too full of the coming expedition, and soon began whispering again.
“But how are we to get away?” I said. “Some one is sure to see us.”