under the tree. "Now you
come down this minute."

"Tree'd at last," thinks Tom, making no answer, and keeping as close as
possible, but working away at the rod, which he takes to pieces. "I'm
in for it, unless I can starve him out." And then he begins to meditate
getting along the branch for a plunge, and scramble to the other side;
but the small branches are so thick, and the opposite bank so difficult,
that the keeper will have lots of time to get round by the ford before
he can get out, so he gives that up. And now he hears the keeper
beginning to scramble up the trunk. That will never do; so he scrambles
himself back to where his branch joins the trunk; and stands with lifted
rod.

"Hullo, Velveteens; mind your fingers if you come any higher."

The keeper stops and looks up, and then with a grin says, "Oh! be you,
be it, young measter? Well, here's luck. Now I tells 'ee to come down at
once, and 't'll be best for 'ee."

"Thank 'ee, Velveteens; I'm very comfortable," said Tom, shortening the
rod in his hand, and preparing for battle.

"Werry well; please yourself," says the keeper, descending, however,
to the ground again, and taking his seat on the bank. "I bean't in no
hurry, so you may take your time. I'll l'arn 'ee to gee honest folk
names afore I've done with 'ee."

"My luck as usual," thinks Tom; "what a fool I was to give him a black!
If I'd called him 'keeper,' now, I might get off. The return match is
all his way."

The keeper quietly proceeded to take out his pipe, fill, and light it,
keeping an eye on Tom, who now sat disconsolately across the branch,
looking at keeper--a pitiful sight for men and fishes. The more he
thought of it the less he liked it. "It must be getting near second
calling-over," thinks he. Keeper smokes on stolidly. "If he takes me up,
I shall be flogged safe enough. I can't sit here all night. Wonder if
he'll rise at silver."

"I say, keeper," said he meekly, "let me go for two bob?"

"Not for twenty neither," grunts his persecutor.

And so they sat on till long past second calling-over, and the sun came
slanting in through the willow-branches, and telling of locking-up near
at hand.

"I'm coming down, keeper," said Tom at last, with a sigh, fairly tired
out. "Now what are you going to do?"

"Walk 'ee up to School, and give 'ee over to the Doctor; them's my
orders," says Velveteens, knocking the ashes out of his fourth pipe, and
standing up and shaking himself.

"Ver