“All right there, Master Tom?”
“Yes.”
“May I move the thing?”
“If you like.”
David, as eagerly as a child with a new toy, began to pull at the rope, when the top began to revolve, taking the little gallery with it, and giving Tom a ride pretty well round the place before the gardener stopped, and turned his face through the opening left by the shutter.
“Goes splendid!” he said, as Tom came in and closed the shutter. “I wouldn’t ha’ believed it. And so the master’s going to build a big tallow scoop up there, is he?”
“Yes; and we’ve got a good deal of it done. There, let’s get down. Uncle may want me.”
“Ay, and I must get back to my garden, sir. There’s a deal to do there, and I could manage with a lot of help.”
“Uncle was talking of making this place quite a study, and putting a lot of books here, the other day,” said Tom, as they descended to the laboratory.
“Was he now? Rare windy place, though, sir, isn’t it? Windy milly place, eh?”