"Now then, eat to your hearts' content," said Master Tom. "Eat away, eat away! How they do enjoy themselves; there won't be a cabbage left. Won't Joseph be surprised. Let us get up into the great pear-tree and watch them. You can climb up if I push you."
"Yes," responded Ettie, grasping the trunk and putting her foot on a jutting-out knob.
"That's famous," said Master Tom, as he helped his little sister up until he landed her in one of the highest boughs.
"Isn't it nice?" said he.
And he began swaying the branches to and fro, whilst Ettie held on tightly and laughed with delight.
"Oh dear! oh dear! how can the pigs have got in?"
"Oh dear! oh dear!" cried Master Tom from the pear-tree, mimicking the gardener's voice.
"Oh dear! oh dear!" cried Ettie in her shrill voice.
"Oh dear! oh dear!" said Joseph in dismay; "the children up in the pear-tree such a height; they'll tumble down and break their necks. Oh, Master Tom, Master Tom, whatever did you go up there for, and take little Missy with you? What shall I do?—the pigs, the children, the children, the pigs! I daren't leave the children; and yet if I don't go after the pigs the garden will be ruined. Oh, my lettuces, my peas, my cauliflowers, my fine young cabbages!"
And then Joseph suddenly raised his voice and shouted as loud as he could—