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He was squinting frightfully, and lay back head downwards, and arms outstretched on the ladder as I began to ascend. His face was flushed, his mouth open, and his tongue out. In fact, he looked as if he were being strangled by his position, and, trembling with eagerness, I went up four rounds, when _smack_! _crack_! I received a blow on each ear that sent me down.
When I recovered myself, my cheeks tingling, and my heart throbbing with wrath, Shock had thrown himself up again, and, with his back to me, was picking away at the apples as if nothing had been wrong.
"You see if I trust you again, my fine fellow," I cried in a rage; and, picking up a lot of clods, I began to pelt him as hard as I could, missing him half the time, but giving him several sharp blows on the back and head.
It was the last shot that hit him on the head, and the clod was big and cakey, hitting him so hard that it flew to pieces like a sh.e.l.l.
It must have hurt him, for he slid down and came at me fiercely with his mouth open, and showing his teeth like a dog.
I daresay at another time, as he was much bigger and stronger than I was, I should have turned and fled; but just then I was so hot and excited that I went at him with my doubled fists, and for the next five minutes we were fighting furiously, every now and then engaged in a struggle, and going down to continue it upon the ground.
I fell heavily several times, and was getting the worst of it when, all at once, I managed to get one hand free, and in my despair struck him as hard as I could.
The blow must have been a hard one, for Shock staggered back, caught his foot in one of the gooseberry bushes, and fell with a crash into one of them, splitting the bush open.
I was half blind with rage, and smarting with blows; and as he seemed to be coming at me again, I made another dash at him, striking out right and left with my arms going like a windmill, till I was checked suddenly by being lifted from the ground, and a hoa.r.s.e voice uttered a tremendous--"Haw, haw, haw!"
I had felt this last time that Shock was very big and strong, hence it took me some moments to realise that the boy had crept out of the gooseberry bush and had shuffled away, while it was Ike whom I was belabouring and drumming with all my might.
"Well done, little one," he cried. "There, cool down. Shock's give in.
You've whacked him. Here's the ganger coming. Get on with your work."
Shock ran by us with a rush, mounted his ladder, and I hurried up mine, to go on picking as well, while, panting and hot, smarting with blows and anger, I wondered what Old Brownsmith would say to me for what I had done.
He only went along the path, however, with his cats, as he saw that Ike was there, and the apple-picking went on till he was out of sight.
"Ah! you're only a bit dirty," said Ike to me rather less roughly than usual. "Come down and I'll give you a brush."
"There you are," he said, after performing the task for me. "Was he up to his larks with you?"
"Yes," I said; "he has been pelting me, and he pretended to fall; and when I went to help him he struck me, and I couldn't stand that."
"So you licked him well? That's right, boy. He won't do it again. If he does, give it him, and teach him better. I don't like fighting till you're obliged; but when you are obliged--hit hard's my motter, and that's what you've done by him."
Of course I knew that _that_ was what I had done by him, but I felt very sorry all the same, for I knew I had hurt Shock a good deal, and I had hurt myself; and somehow, as Ike went away chuckling and rubbing his big hands down his sides, it seemed very cruel of him to laugh.
Everything seemed to have gone so wrong, and I was in such trouble, that neither the sunshine nor the beauty of the apples gave me the least satisfaction.
I kept on picking, expecting every moment that Shock would begin again, and I kept a watchful eye upon him; but he threw no more lumps of earth or apples, and only went on picking as quickly as he could, and I noticed that he always had his face turned from me.
"I do nothing but offend people," I thought, as I worked away, and I felt as sure as could be that this boy would contrive pitfalls for me and play me tricks, making my life quite a burden. In fact, I became very imaginative, as boys of my age often will, and instead of trying to take things in the manly English spirit that should be the aim of every lad, I grew more and more depressed.
Just when I was at my worst, and I was thinking what an unlucky boy I was, I heard a sound, followed by another. The nearest representation of the sounds are these--_Quack_--_craunche_.
"Why, he's eating apples," I said to myself, as I went down my ladder, emptied my basket, and went up again.
Now some who read this will think it a strange thing, but, though I had been busy all that morning handling beautiful little pippins, long, rosy, and flat-topped, I had never even thought of tasting one.
Like fruit? I loved it; but I was so intent upon my work, so eager to do it well, and I had had so much to think about, that it seemed to come upon me like a surprise that the apples were good to eat.
Now that Shock had begun, and was crunching away famously as he worked, I suddenly found that, though I was not so hot as I was after my encounter, my mouth felt dry. I was very thirsty, and those apples seemed to be the most tempting of any I had ever seen in my life.
But I would not touch one. I went higher up the ladder and picked; then higher and higher till I was close to the top, holding on by the tall stem of the tree picking some of the ripest apples I had yet gathered, and swaying with a pleasant motion every time I reached here or there to pick one at the end of a twig.
What beauties they seemed, and how, while those that grew in the shady parts under the leaves, were of a delicate green, the ones I had picked from out in the full sunshine were dark and ruddy and bronzed! How they cl.u.s.tered together too, out here in the top of the tree, so thickly that it seemed as if I should never get them all.
But by degrees I reached up and up where I could not take the basket, and thrust the apples into my breast and pockets. One I had a tremendous job to reach, after going a little lower to where my basket hung to empty my pockets before climbing again. It was a splendid fellow, the biggest yet, and growing right at the top of a twig.
It seemed dangerous to get up there, for it meant holding on by the branch, and standing on the very top round of the ladder, and I hesitated. Still I did not like to be beaten, and with the branch bending I held on and went up and up, till I stood right at the top of the ladder, and then cautiously raising my hand I was about to reach up at and try to pick the apple, when something induced me to turn my head and look in the direction of Shock's tree.
Sure enough he was watching me. I saw his face right up in the top; but he turned it quickly, and there was a rustle and a crack as if he had nearly fallen.
For a few moments this unsteadied me, and for the first time I began to think that I was running great risks, and that I should fall. So peculiar was the feeling that I clung tightly to the swaying bending branch and shut my eyes.
The feeling went off as quickly as it came, for I set my teeth, and, knowing that Shock was watching me, determined that he should not see I was afraid.
The next moment I was reaching up cautiously, and by degrees got my hand just under the apple, but could get no higher. My head was thrown back, the branch bending towards me, and my feet on the top round, so that I was leaning back far out of the perpendicular, and the more I tried to get that pippin, and could not reach, the more bright and beautiful it looked.
I forgot all about the danger, for Shock was watching me, and I would have it; and as I strained up I at last was able to touch it with the tips of my fingers, for my feet were pressing the branch one way, my hands drawing it the other, till it came lower, lower, lower, my fingers grasped the apple--more and more, and at last, when I felt that I could bear the strain no longer, the stalk gave way, and the apple dropped between the twig and my hand.
Then for a moment, as I grasped it, I felt as if I was going to lose my footing, and hang off the ladder. If I did, the bough was so thin that I knew it would break, and it was only by exerting all my strength that I held on.
At last, lowering hand below hand, I got to be a little more upright.
My feet were firmer on the ladder, and I was able to take a step down.
Another few moments and, with a sigh of relief at my escape from a heavy fall--for it really was an escape--I thrust the beautiful apple in my breast and descended to my basket, gave a final glance round to see if there was any more fruit within reach, found there was not, and so I went to the foot of the ladder, emptied my basket, took out the apple from my breast, and found that it was as beautiful as it had seemed up there.
"I must have you," I thought, and, turning the rosy side towards me, I took a tremendous bite out of it, a rich sweet juicy bite, and then stood staring stupidly, for Old Brownsmith was standing there with his cats, looking at me in a quiet serious way.
CHAPTER ELEVEN.
MAKING THINGS RIGHT.
Just at that moment I fancied that I heard a sort of laugh from up in the other tree, but my eyes were fixed upon Old Brownsmith, and I had a large piece of apple in my mouth that I dared not begin to chew.
He stood looking at me as I stood there, feeling three of his cats come and begin rubbing themselves up against my legs in the most friendly way, while I felt as if my misfortunes were being piled up one on the top of the other.
From previous conversations I had gathered that he expected the boys to now and then eat a little fruit, and there was no harm in it; but it seemed so hard that the very first time I tasted an apple he should be standing there watching me.
"Dinner's ready," he said suddenly; "come along."
"Shall I leave the baskets here, sir?" I said.
"Yes; just as they are."
He stooped down and examined the apples, turning them over a little.