But presently Harry was high high up on the very point of the tree. He proceeded at once to throw down the great nest of sticks and grass and clay; no very easy task, as he had to work with one hand, while he held on with the other.
But he finished at last, and the nest lay at Miss Campbell’s feet.
The wind blew high to-day, and the tree swayed and swayed about, just like a ship’s mast at sea.
“Oh! Miss Guvie, do try to come up,” cried the boy, looking down. “It is so nice; and I can see all over the country. Wouldn’t I like to be a sailor. Do come up.”
But Miss Campbell only cried, “Do come down.”
When he did obey her at last, she could contain herself no longer. Down she must sit on a bank of withered pine-needles and give vent to sobs and tears.
Then the boy’s heart melted for her, and he went and threw his arms around her and kissed her, and said:
“Oh! Guvie dear, don’t cry, and Harry will never, never be quite so naughty again. Don’t cry, dear, and when Harry grows a big man, he will fight for you and then marry you.”
She was pacified at last, and they started for home.
“I’ll keep firm hold of your hand,” said Harry, “and then you won’t cry any more, and nothing can hurt you.”