Page 76 - A Little Bush Maid

ON A LOG

Lunch over, everyone seemed disinclined for action. The boys lay about on

the grass, sleepily happy. Norah climbed into a tree, where the gnarled
boughs made a natural arm-chair, and the Hermit propped his back against

a rock and smoked a short black pipe with an air of perfect enjoyment. Tt
was just hot enough to make one drowsy. Bees droned lazily, and from
some shady gully the shrill note of a cricket came faintly to the ear. Only

Billy had stolen down to the creek, to tempt the fish once more. They heard
the dull "plunk" of his sinker as he flung it into a deep, still pool.

"Would you like to hear how T lost my boot?" queried the Hermit suddenly.

"Oh, please," said Norah.

The boys rolled over--that is to say Jim and Wally rolled over. Harry was
fast asleep.

"Don’t wake him," said the Hermit. But Wally’s hat, skilfully thrown, had
already caught the slumberer on the side of the head.

Harry woke up with surprising promptness, and returned the offending
head-gear with force and directness. Wally caught it deftly and rammed it

over his eyes. He smiled underneath it at the Hermit like a happy cherub.

"Now we’re ready, sir," he said. "Hold your row, Harry, the--this
gentleman’s going to spin us a yarn. Keep awake if you can spare the time!"

"T’ll spare the time to kick you!" growled the indignant Harry.

"T don’t know that you’ll think it’s much of a yarn," the Hermit said
hurriedly, entering the breach to endeavour to allay further
discussion--somewhat to Jim’s disappointment. "Tt’s only the story of a

pretty narrow escape.