ted after sage and onions. 'Because he's an awful goose,' said
Saddlebank.

Temple and I thought the word was out and hurrahed, and back came
Barnshed. We had a task in persuading him to resume his expedition, as
well as Saddlebank to forgive us. Saddlebank's anger was excessive. We
conciliated him by calling him captain, and pretending to swear an oath
of allegiance. He now led us through a wood on to some fields down to
a shady dell, where we were to hold the feast in privacy. He did not
descend it himself. Vexatious as it was to see a tramp's tent there, we
nevertheless acknowledged the respectful greeting of the women and the
man with a few questions about tentpegs, pots, and tin mugs. Saddlebank
remained aloft, keeping a look-out for the day-school fellows, Chaunter,
Davis, and Bystop, my commissioners. They did not keep us waiting
long. They had driven to the spot in a cart, according to Saddlebank's
directions. Our provisions were in three large hampers. We praised their
forethought loudly at the sight of an extra bottle of champagne, with
two bottles of ginger-wine, two of currant, two of raisin, four pint
bottles of ale, six of ginger-beer, a Dutch cheese, a heap of tarts,
three sally-lunns, and four shillingsworth of toffy. Temple and I joined
our apples to the mass: a sight at which some of the boys exulted aloud.
The tramp-women insisted on spreading things out for us: ten yards off
their children squatted staring: the man smoked and chaffed us.

At last Saddlebank came running over the hill-side, making as if he
meant to bowl down what looked a black body of a baby against the sky,
and shouting, 'See, you fellows, here's a find!' He ran through us,
swinging his goose up to the hampers, saying that he had found the goose
under a furze-bush. While the words were coming out of his mouth, he saw
the tramps, and the male tramp's eyes and his met.

The man had one eyebrow and his lips at one corner screwed in a queer
lift: he winked slowly. 'Odd! ain't it?' he said.

Saddlebank shouldered round on us, and cried, 'Confound you fellows!
here's a beastly place you've pitched upon.' His face was the colour of
scarlet in patches.

'Now, I call it a beautiful place,' said the man, 'and if you finds
gooses hereabouts growing ready for the fire, all but plucking, why,
it's a bountiful place, I call it.'

The women tried to keep him silent. But for them we should have moved
our encampment. 'Why, of course, young gen