“Bob knows all about they gipoos when they do zither like moskitties,” observed Lob slyly.

“Shut up, you kid!” retorted the other, “or I’ll tell Mr. Solent how I caught you kissing a tree.”

“I never kissed no tree,” muttered Lob sulkily.

“ What? ” cried his friend indignantly.

“If I did, ’twere along o’ they loveyers us seed in Willum’s Lane ditch. ’Twere enough to make a person kiss his wone self, what us did see; and ’twere ye what showed ’em to I.”

“I hope you have both enjoyed yourselves this afternoon,” began Wolf again. “Christie can’t have come,” he thought to himself; and he wondered if he should ask Mr. Weevil point-blank about her.