"Werry well, please yourself," says the keeper, descending, however, to the ground again, and taking his seat on the bank; "I bean't in no hurry, so you may take your time. I'll learn ee to gee[33] honest folks names afore I've done with ee."
"My luck as usual," thinks Tom; "what a fool I was to give him a black.[34] If I'd called him 'keeper,' now, I might get off. The return match[35] is all his way."
VELVETEENS' REVENGE.
The keeper quietly proceeded to take out his pipe, fill and light it, keeping an eye on Tom, who now sat disconsolately across the branch, looking at keeper,—a pitiful sight for men and fishes. The more he thought of it, the less he liked it. "It must be getting near second calling-over," thinks he. Keeper smokes on stolidly. "If he takes me up, I shall be flogged safe enough. I can't sit here all night. Wonder if he'll rise at silver."[36]
"I say, keeper," said he meekly, "let me go for two bob?"[37]
"Not for twenty neither," grunts his persecutor.
And so they sat on till long past second calling-over, and the sun came slanting in through the willow branches, and telling of locking-up near at hand.
"I'm coming down, keeper," said Tom at last, with a sigh, fairly tired out. "Now, what are you going to do?"
"Walk ee up to school, and give ee over to the Doctor; them's my orders," says Velveteens, knocking the ashes out of his fourth pipe, and standing up and shaking himself.