things."

"Ha--ha--ha!" laughed Tom.

"Ah, you may laugh, sir; but Parson Maxted's handsome young Jarsey cow
did die."

"Well, all cows die some time," cried Tom.

"Ay, sir, that's true; but not after old Mother Warboys has stood
cussin' for ever so long about the milk."

"And did she?"

"Ay, that she did, sir, right in the middle o' the road, because the
cook give her yes'day's skim-milk instead o' to-day's noo."

Tom laughed again.

"I say, what about the pears?"

"Ay, what about the pears? You wouldn't come down in the dark and keep
watch."

"Wouldn't I!" cried Tom excitedly.

"Besides, we might ketch him, and him fly at you."

"I wish he would," said Tom.

"And then it would be in the dark."

"Of course."

"Not till late at night, perhaps."

"Well, what of that?"

"And maybe he wouldn't come in the night at all, but steal over the wall
just before it gets light, when you'd be in your bed. Yes, that's just
the sort of time when he would come."

"I should have to ask uncle to let me sit up with you, David."

"Ah, I thought that would be it," said David; "ask your uncle."

"Look here, David," cried Tom, flushing. "I shouldn't say I'd like to
come if I didn't mean it. I'm not going to get into trouble by slipping
out on the sly."

"It's all over," said David. "I thought so. Master'd never let you sit
up and watch, sir. I thought you wouldn't."

"Well, we'll soon prove that," cried Tom. "Here is uncle."

"Yes; what is it?" said Uncle Richard, coming across the garden.

"David's afraid of the pears being stolen, uncle, for he saw some one
examining them this morning, and he's going to sit up to-night and
watch. Do you mind my sitting up too?"

"Sitting up? No, I think not, Tom, only mind and don't get hurt. You
are more likely to catch a thief at daybreak though, I should say."

"Mebbe, sir," said David; "but I think if you didn't mind I'd try
to-night first."

"By all means, David. I should be sorry to lose those pears again."

"There!" cried Tom, as soon as they were alone; "do you think I want to
back out now?"

David laughed, and rubbed his hands together between his knees.

"Come on, Master Tom, and I'll get the billhook. Then we'll go and cut
a couple of good young hazel rods in the copse."

"Then you won't have broomsticks, David?"

"Nay, sir, they'd be too heavy and too stiff. I know the sort--good
stout young hazels as won't break when you hit with 'em, bu