CHAPTER VII.

DAWDLERS.

It is hard work for very young people to walk soberly down a very steep hill, so-though we had been playing busily almost the whole day long-a race to the bridge at the bottom was proposed, seconded, and carried.

I was allowed a start from yonder big boundary-stone, sticking upright in the bank, Mat and Harry standing together about half-way between the Scamp and me, for, being by far the swiftest runner, he, of course, came last.

"Oh, you little cheats!" rang cheerily out the Scamp's voice, as I set off, followed by the other two, without waiting for the signal.

Away we tore, over the stones and the deep cart-ruts, along this piece of comparative level, down another steep little pitch, on, on, until my head seemed inclined to jerk itself off my shoulders, and my neck to threaten dislocation at every fresh step!

The bridge came in sight, round a sudden turn in the road.

Hurrah! I am still in front, and in two minutes more I shall be at the goal.

Nearer and nearer; and now the laughing voices behind me

greet the Scamp with a disapproving howl, as, one after the other, he catches up and passes them.

Then I heard their voices calling loudly,—

"Well run, Bernie; don't let him pass you."

And in his excitement, Harry shrieked,—

“Go it, young'un ; you'll lick him. Well run, indeed, for a kid!"

This from a small boy only three months older than myself! But I heeded not the air of patronage, being spurred on only by the kindly tones of encouragement.

Hurrah! I have actually conquered, but at the expense of losing my breath, and gaining in its place that unwelcome visitant-the "stitch." Exhausted, I threw myself down on the grassy banks of the mill-stream, just across the bridge; rolling over from side to side, as I held my aching sides, and screwed up my tired legs, until my knees were within an inch of my chin.

"Bravo! well you can run for a youngster, and no mistake!" cried the Scamp, flinging himself down beside me, his face aflame, and his carroty hair tossed wildly over his eyes.

For, following our youthful instincts, we had all snatched our caps hurriedly from our heads, as soon as the race began, carrying them in our hands-our arms going backwards and forwards all the while, like pendulums to the old Dutch clocks.

Hero had run on ahead at first, but finding that we had all settled down to rest comfortably on the grass, he trotted solemnly back to join us.

Seeing my face so conveniently near the ground, he couldn't resist the temptation of stopping to smother me with his usual slobbering caresses. With a dog's pertinacity, the more I tried to ward off his damp kisses, the better fun he thought it; until it became quite an exciting trial of skill to see whether or no I could prevent his finding the slightest chink between my outspread hands, wherein to insert his wet, cold nose upon my face.

Suddenly he heard himself called, and bounded off, leaving me to rise and follow at my leisure.

Down by the water's edge stood the Scamp, energetically engaged in cutting off a stubborn shoot from a willow-tree growing there, whilst Harry, seated on a large, loose stone, fallen from the rickety old bridge, calmly watched his vigorous struggles.

"Why are you like French beans, Scamp ?" asked Harry, with an amused smile, balancing himself meanwhile upon the extreme summit of the rounded stone.

"Can't say!" replied Sam, shortly.

"Because you are a 'scarlet runner'!" said Harry, going off into a fit of laughter at this brilliant hit at the Scamp's heated appearance after his race.

"Oh, come, Harry-you didn't make that up, I know!" exclaimed Mat, when our amusement had somewhat subsided.

"I did!" retorted Harry, warmly.

Happily, any further overtures towards anything like a squabble were at this point diverted, by the sudden apparition of the Scamp's feet flying into the air above his head, which latter extremity seemed to be in imminent danger of coming into contact with the ground. For the stick at which he had been labouring so perseveringly, cutting, twisting, pulling, had, without any previous warning, given way to a rather fiercer jerk than usual, sending the conqueror ignominiously sprawling on to his back. So immoderately did Harry laugh at this catastrophe, that, in an unguarded moment, he, too, slipped off his perch, which set us all off roaring with renewed laughter, as each one rose from his ungraceful roll on Mother Earth.

Hero began to jump round us, barking excitedly, as though he, too, greatly enjoyed the joke. So the Scamp, anxious for him to provide his share of the entertainment, sent the stick whizzing through the air, with a "Hie in then! fetch it out

good dog!" The stick fell with a thwack upon the water, and started off at once for a gentle float down stream.

With a wild yelp, Hero plunged in, paddled swiftly after it, caught it with a quick dab of his mouth, before the sluggish current had carried it beneath the arch of the bridge, and turning, brought it triumphantly ashore, wagging his tail and looking out of the corners of his eyes, as much as to say, 66 Don't you wish you were half as clever as I ?" Then, laying the trophy at Sam's feet, he commenced shaking himself vigorously, spreading his four legs wide, and scattering the water from his shaggy sides, in showers dense enough to serve any one for a shower-bath, who might happen to be standing within a yard or two of him.

We had some difficulty in avoiding a wetting, for all dogs, it seems to me, take a malicious pleasure in creeping up close to people, as soon as they come out of the water, and treating them to as prodigal a sprinkling as they can be tricked into.

"Let me throw it now!" I cried, and running forward, I seized the dripping stick, and threw it with all my might, before any one could intercept my scheme.

Alas! for my aiming powers.

The stick flew off at a tangent, struck the parapet of the bridge, and falling vertically down, lodged on a projecting ledge of stone, which stretched from side to side a few inches above the crown of the arch.

"Oh dear! oh dear! I'm so sorry," I said, humbly, "but I'll cut you another, Scamp, if you'll lend me your knife."

The Scamp rarely got cross with any one, so instead of flying into a rage, as many of the boys would have done, he merely said, more forcibly than elegantly,

"Well, you are a little cock-eye! I must say; but I'll get it again, somehow."

"You can't possibly! we cried, dissuasively.

"I mean to try. And I'll do it, too!"

"But we must go on, Scamp, or we shall be so late," said Mat. Besides, we promised not to stop about."

"Yes. And Mrs. Royce is sure to ask Mrs. What-d'ye-mecall "

"Mrs. Hughes,"" I suggested.

"Yes. She's sure to ask her when we started," echoed Harry; "and then shan't we look pretty, when she finds what an age we've been on the way?"

66 Oh, never care!" cried the Scamp, "we'll run again presently, to make up. But I intend to get that stick first."

"Oh don't, don't !" we all exclaimed, imploringly.

But the Scamp was inflexible, and only made answer by running on to the bridge, and leaning ever so far over the parapet, just above the spot where the stick lay. In vain, though; for it was quite out of his reach.

"Here, you fellows, come and hang on to my legs!" he shouted.

So Mat caught tight hold of one foot, whilst Harry and I held on to the other.

Still it was useless, for, with more than half his body hanging over, the stick was a good foot below his outstretched fingers.

Hero seemed uneasy. He leapt on to the flat stone coping, and stood close over the Scamp, sniffing ominously round him, and once or twice catching his coat between his teeth.

"It's no go!" said Sam, slipping reluctantly back to his feet, his face flushed with the exertion.

"Leave it, do, and come on!" cried Harry, impatiently. "I shan't!—so there! I will get it-just because I said I would!"

"Well, let's run on, and leave him behind," suggested Harry; a proposal which met with no response.

For, without another word, the Scamp ran down to the side of the bridge again, and mounting on to the slight, projecting