hooks, the poor thrush lay on its back on the floor of the cage, just a small heap of feathers.
“Do yer still think he was worth the money?” enquired Jonas.
Aaron burst into a loud laugh, moved to the display of this unseemly merriment by the blank disappointment depicted on all the children’s faces. But he didn’t laugh long.
For Andrew, who was standing nearest to him, struck him such a blow across his shoulders, that Aaron, unsteady on his legs at the best of times, stumbled, tried to save himself, and finally fell with a crash to the floor.
At the same moment, a handful of leather bootlaces whistled round Andrew’s ears, their brass tags making themselves felt unmercifully on his neck and face, for the cobbler was wielding this original scourge with a will. But, instead of attacking the cobbler, as most other boys would have done, Andrew continued his assault upon Aaron, kicking at him with all his might as he lay prone on the floor.
“Shut up, Andrew,” cried Phil and Jack, in one breath.
Furious as they were at the way in which they had been tricked, they would have scorned to strike such a poor creature as Aaron.
“How can you be such a cad as to touch such a poor chap?” they said.