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Speak again so I can get to you. It's awful dark under here." The other took him at his word, and commenced to rattle on, saying all manner of things, simply to direct his rescuer to the spot. "It's Andy Lasher, as sure as I live," said Jerry to himself, as he recognized the other's voice, despite the agony in it.
Barnett is much more frequently with him, and they have tremendous battles during which it looks as if the fate of empires depended on the next move, but when the doctor comes Daddy looks ever so pleased and his voice rings out with welcome. I announced that I was going over to old Granny Lasher, who would get me out of trouble with that heel I was puzzling over.
"Oh yes, that's right enough, captain," replied the doctor. "You know, Rodd, that great frog fish, the Father Lasher, as the fishermen call him. Why, captain, we have got them at home off the Devon coast." "I know," said the skipper. "I have seen them; but those are not what I mean. He didn't give me time to finish, squire," continued the skipper, facing round to Rodd.
He stayed with you a bit when you just arrived, but I expect he soon left you. You're jolly glad he did." "My dear Pidgen," said Mr. Lasher, "I haven't understood a word." Pidgen shook his head. "You're right. That's just what's the matter with me. I can't even put what I see plainly." He sighed deeply. "I've failed. There's no doubt about it. But, although I know that, I've had a happy life.
While the boys worked at replacing the fallen boxes, they kept up a running fire of observations regarding this new calamity that threatened their peace; for when Andy Lasher and the ugly crowd with which he trained took a notion to make themselves disagreeable they could do it "to the queen's taste," as Jerry said.
This was a very pleasant story, and Hugh Seymour's thoughts often crept around and about it. He would like to find a pirate, to bring him to the vicarage, and present him to Mr. Lasher. He knew that Mrs. Lasher would say, "Fancy, a pirate. Well! now, fancy! Well, here's a pirate!" And that Mr. Lasher would say, "It's a pity, Hugh, that you don't choose your company more carefully.
Lasher strongly objected, and Hugh heard him say, "Really, Pidgen, think of the boy! Think of the boy!" and Mr. Pidgen exclaimed, "By God, so I should!... Beg pardon, Lasher! Won't do it again! Lord save me, I'm a careless old drunkard!" He had any number of strange phrases that were new and brilliant and exciting to the boy, who listened to him.
Lasher had been friends at Cambridge and had not met one another since, and every one knows that that is a dangerous basis for the renewal of friendship. They had a little dispute on the very afternoon of Mr. Pidgen's arrival, when Mr. Lasher asked his guest whether he played golf. "God preserve my soul! No!" said Mr. Pidgen. Mr.
From under the ruins a figure came crawling slowly, rubbing sundry places about his legs and sides, where the sharp corners of the boxes had been in cruel contact with his flesh. "Why, it's Andy Lasher!" exclaimed Jerry, pretending to be wonderfully surprised. "Where in the world did you come from hiding in that drygoods box, eh? Up to some of your old tricks, Andy, I guess.
The dignity was now ebbing fast, and by the time that the clever little cob swung round the gate-post into the avenue of Stagholme, Jem and Lasher were fully re-established on the old familiar footing. There was a bright moon overhead, and at the end of the avenue beyond the dip where the lake gleamed mysteriously, the gables and solid towers of Stagholme stood peacefully confessed.
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