“Observatory! Yes; it looks it. The gov’nor was awfully wild about it. Nice brother, he said, to go and take the legal business to some one else instead of to our office. There, come along.”
“I must get the keys first.”
“Keys? Why, I thought you were all so beautifully innocent, that you never locked up anything in the country.”
“But we do,” said Tom. “Wait a minute. I’ll soon be back.”
“Don’t hurry yourself, bumpkin. I’ll have some more raspberries.”
“I should like to bumpkin him,” thought Tom, as he ran in, got the keys, and hurried back to where Sam was “worrying the rarsps,” as David afterwards indignantly said; and then the boys walked together out into the lane, and from thence through the gate into the mill-yard.
“Do you ever come here with him moon-shooting?” said Sam contemptuously.
“Uncle has not been doing any astronomy lately,” replied Tom; and feeling that he could not chat about their private life, he refrained from saying anything about the work upon which they had been engaged, but contented himself with showing the workshop, and then leading the way into the laboratory.
“What do you do here?” said Sam, looking contemptuously round.
“This is the laboratory.”