“No, uncle; it’s just as if I’d got a little tiny muffin-man ringing his bell in each ear as hard as he can go.”
“Try a night’s rest,” said Uncle Richard. “Yes, I’m very sorry we had such a mishap.”
“Never mind,” said the Vicar; “it will give our little glazier a job. And now I feel rested and better, so good-evening, I’m going home.”
Chapter Thirty One.
Tom gave proof of his readiness a few days later, when the broken windows had been replaced, fresh solutions made, and the village had again calmed down to its regular natural state of repose; for, upon his uncle proposing that they should proceed at once to silver the big speculum, he eagerly went off to the workshop to get all ready for his uncle’s coming.
Short as the distance was though, he did not get away without encountering Pete, who hurried up to the wall to shout over at him—
“I know. Yer did shoot at me, but I shan’t forget it, so look out.”
Then hearing some one coming from the cottage, he ducked down like a wild animal seeking concealment, and hurried away.