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Why, Bob Hopley's a chap as must do something to show for his wage, and he'd take any man's character away. He hate me, he do." "Yes, and you hate him, Magg," I said. The fellow turned on me sharply, but a curiously ugly smile began to make curves like parentheses at the corners of his lips, and he showed his teeth directly after. "Well, I ain't so very fond of him," he said.
"What shall we do now?" asked Mercer; "go and show them to the boys?" "No; it will only make them disappointed. Let's go down at once to Bob Hopley's." "What for?" "To take this." Mercer looked at the smaller packet I had for a few moments. "What is it?" he said. "A present from my mother for Polly." "Oh! Why, it must be a watch." "No," I said; "I think it's a brooch or a pair of earrings."
"But I must have seemed like one, because I can swim ever so far, but when I found myself like that, all the strength went out of me. I say!" "Yes?" I said, for he remained silent, and trudged on, looking hard at the ground. "I did like you for paying at Polly Hopley's, and I said I'd do anything for you, but I can't tell you what I feel now, for your helping me."
"Because you can keep frogs, and jays, and polecats, and snakes, and anything, and they don't want to be fed." "What a nice cottage!" I said suddenly, as we came upon a red-brick, red-tiled place, nearly all over ivy. "Yes, that's Polly Hopley's and hi! there goes old Hopley."
Mercer stopped short, for we heard Polly Hopley's voice speaking loudly, evidently at the front of the cottage. "I don't want it, and I won't have it. Give it to some one else." "No, I shan't," said a harsh voice, which we knew at once as Magglin's. "I bought it o' porpos for you, and you've got to wear it." "Then I shan't, and if you come talking to me again like that, I shall tell father."
He means a parrot he's seen in its cage." "Nay, I don't," said the man. "I mean a big woodpecker down in Squire Hawkus Rye's woods." "Oh, Magg: get it for me!" "Nay, I dunno as I can. Old Hopley's on the look-out for me, and if I was to shoot that there bird, he'd swear it was a fezzan." "Perhaps it is," said Mercer, laughing. "Nay, not it, my lad," said the man, with a sly-looking smile.
Bob Hopley's present was a red and orange silk kerchief, which he wore proudly on Sundays, and Cook's was in a small box prepared by my mother a cap with wonderful flowers and ribbons, which obtained for Tom Mercer and me endless little supper snacks as tokens of the woman's delight and gratitude.
Some of 'em served me that way before, when Bob Hopley's old donkey died, and they put in its head. What shall we do?" "Nothing," I said. "I have the key." "You have? Oh, I am glad!" "I went up and found the key there, so I locked it and put it in my pocket." "Why didn't you put it in the old place, and not give me all this fright?" "You know," I said solemnly.
"We must tell Bob Hopley we're going, or he may hear us in the wood, and pepper us, thinking it's old Magglin." "What?" "He said he would, if ever he caught him there." "Seen him lately?" I said. "No; have you?" "Not since the cricket match day, when I was going to Bob Hopley's."
I was much better, but the thought of food in that crowded tent was nauseating, and, watching my opportunity, I slipped away, seeing Tom Mercer looking about as if in search of me before going into the tent. "I know what I'll do," I thought. "I'll walk gently down along the lane to Bob Hopley's place, and ask Polly to make me a cup of tea and cut me some bread and butter."
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