Barton, you know, has such a great dislike to our trespassing," said
Riches, "and if we stay here resolutely they will be sure to come back."
"Don't preach to me," was the rather unexpected reply, for Fred was not
_perfect_ yet, though he had gained a victory or two over his temper of
late.
"I didn't mean to preach, but I do wish the boys would come home, it is
growing late; and with our heavy baskets we shall only just get in in
time."
"Halloo!" shouted Fred, getting on the bank. "Come back, won't you, or
we shall be too late; come, John, you are the eldest, come along." But
his call was drowned in the sound of their voices, which were echoing
through the weeds, much to the annoyance, no doubt, of the stately
pheasants who were not accustomed to human sounds like these. They were
not at any great distance, and Fred could just distinguish parts of
their conversation.
John and Harcourt were urging White, a delicate boy, and no climber, to
mount a high tree in the wood, to enjoy they said the glorious sea-view;
but in reality to make themselves merry at his expense, being certain
that if he managed to scramble up he would have some difficulty in
getting down, and would get a terrible fright at least.
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