“Yes, that’s one of them,—don’t touch it!” said Clinton, as Whistler approached it.
“I shan’t look at it,” said Ella, turning her head in an opposite direction.
“It won’t hurt you if you don’t touch it,—you needn’t be afraid to look at it,” remarked Clinton.
“I’ve a great mind to touch it, just to see how it would operate,” said Whistler, going still nearer to the vine.
“Why, William Davenport!—you silly boy!” exclaimed Ella, with a look of astonishment.
“No! don’t touch it, Willie! You’ll be sorry if you do,” said Clinton. “It will make your face and eyes swell up, so that you won’t know yourself; and it won’t feel very comfortable, either.”
“But it doesn’t poison every body, does it?” inquired Whistler.
“No; some people can handle it without being hurt,” said Clinton; “but I wouldn’t risk it, if I were you. If you get poisoned once, you’ll be more liable to it next time; and so the danger will keep increasing, every time you come in contact with it.”
“Is there any dogwood about here?” inquired Whistler, turning away from the ivy.
“Yes; there’s a little, I believe,” said Clinton.