TOM BROWN'S
"Really!" said Arthur; "I'm glad I know that. How unlike our firs they are! They do very well, too, here, don't they?—the Spinney's full of them."
"What's that humbug he's telling you?" cried Tom, looking up, having caught the word Himalayas and suspecting what East was after.
"Only about this fir," said Arthur, putting his hand on the stem of the beech.
"Fir!" shouted Tom; "why, you don't mean to say, young un, you don't know a beech when you see one?"
Poor little Arthur looked terribly ashamed, and East exploded in laughter which made the wood ring.
"I've hardly ever seen any trees," faltered Arthur.
"What a shame to hoax him, Scud!" cried Martin. "Never mind, Arthur, you shall know more about trees than he does in a week or two."
"And isn't that the kestrel's nest, then?" asked Arthur.
"That! why, that's a piece of mistletoe. There's the nest, that lump of sticks up this fir."
"Don't believe him, Arthur," struck in the incorrigible East; "I just saw an old magpie go out of it."
Martin did not deign to reply to this sally, except by a grunt, as he buckled the last buckle of his climbing-irons; and Arthur looked reproachfully at East without speaking.
But now came the tug of war. It was a very difficult tree to climb until the branches were reached, the first of which was some fourteen feet up, for the trunk was too large at the bottom to be swarmed; in fact, neither of the boys could reach more than half round it with his arms. Martin and Tom, both of whom had irons on, tried it without success at first; the fir bark broke away where they stuck the irons in as soon as they leaned any weight on their feet, and the grip of their arms wasn't enough to keep them up; so, after getting up three or four feet, down they came slithering to the ground, barking their arms and faces. They
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