"Hullo, who are you? what business is that of yours, old Velveteens?"
"I'm the new under-keeper, and master's told me to keep a sharp look-out on all o' you young chaps. And I tells 'ee I means business, and you'd better keep on your own side, or we shall fall out."
"Well, that's right. Velveteens—speak out, and let's know your mind at once."
"Look here, old boy," cried East, holding up a miserable coarse fish or two and a small jack, "would you like to smell 'em and see which bank they lived under?"
"I'll give you a bit of advice, keeper," shouted Tom, who was sitting in his shirt paddling with his feet in the river; "you'd better go down there to Swift's, where the big boys are; they're beggars at setting lines, and 'll put you up to a wrinkle or two for catching the five-pounders." Tom was nearest to the keeper, and that officer, who was getting angry at the chaff, fixed his eyes on our hero, as if to take a note of him for future use. Tom returned his gaze with a steady stare, and then broke into a laugh and struck into the middle of a favourite School-house song—
As I and my companions
Were setting of a snare,
The gamekeeper was watching us;
For him we did not care:
For we can wrestle and fight, my boys.
And jump out anywhere.
For it's my delight of a likely night,
In the season of the year.
The chorus was taken up by the other boys with shouts of laughter, and the keeper turned away with a grunt, but evidently bent on mischief. The boys thought no more of the matter.
