TOM'S WORK.
And now what he so wished for had come to pass; he almost hailed it as a special providence (as indeed it was, but not for the reasons he gave for it—what providences are?) that Arthur should have singled out Martin of all fellows for a friend. "The old Madman is the very fellow," thought he; "he will take him scrambling over half the country after birds' eggs and flowers, make him run and swim and climb like an Indian, and not teach him a word of anything bad, or keep him from his lessons. What luck!" And so, with more than his usual heartiness, he dived into his cupboard and hauled out an old knucklebone of ham, and two or three bottles of beer, together with the solemn pewter[16] only used on state occasions; while Arthur, equally elated at the easy accomplishment of his first act of volition[17] in the joint establishment, produced from his side a bottle of pickles and a pot of jam, and cleared the table. In a minute or two the noise of the boys coining up from supper was heard, and Martin knocked and was admitted, bearing his bread and cheese, and the three fell to with hearty good-will upon the viands, talking faster than they ate, for all shyness disappeared in a moment before Tom's bottled beer and hospitable ways. "Here's Arthur a regular young town-mouse, with a natural taste for the woods, Martin, longing to break his neck climbing trees, and with a passion for young snakes."
THE SUPPER.
"Well, I say," spurted out Martin, eagerly, "will you come to-morrow, both of you, to Caldecott's Spinney, then? for I know of a kestrel's nest,[18] up a fir-tree—I can't get at it without help; and Brown, you can climb against any one."
"Oh, yes, do let us go," said Arthur; "I never saw a hawk's nest, nor a hawk's egg."
"You just come down to my study, then, and I'll show you five sorts," said Martin.
"Ay, the old Madman has got the best collection in the house, out and out," said Tom; and then Martin, warming with unaccustomed good cheer and the chance of a convert, launched out into a proposed birds'-nesting campaign, betraying all manner of important secrets; a golden-crested wren's nest near Butlins's Mound, a moor-hen that was sitting on nine eggs in a pond down the Barby road, and a kingfisher's nest in a corner of the old canal above Brownsover Mill. He had heard, he said, that no one had ever got a kingfisher's nest out perfect, and that the British Museum or the Government, or somebody had offered £100 to any one who could bring them a nest and eggs not damaged. In the middle of which astounding announcement, to which the others were listening with open ears, and already considering the application of the £100, a knock came at the door, and East's voice was heard craving admittance.
"There's Harry," said Tom; "we'll let him in—I'll keep him steady, Martin. I thought the old boy would smell out the supper."
The fact was that Tom's heart had already smitten him for not asking his "fidus Achates"[19] to the feast, although only an extempore[20] affair; and, though prudence and the desire to get Martin and Arthur together alone at first had overcome his scruples, he was now heartily glad to open the door, broach another bottle of beer, and hand over the old ham-knuckle to the searching of his friend's pocket-knife.
"Ah, you greedy vagabonds!" said East, with his mouth full, "I knew there was something going on when I saw you cut off out of the Hall so quick with your suppers."