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Indeed, if Bill had not been so absorbed in his purchase, he would have noticed that there was no sign of the hornbeam either. Przeczytaj fragment w darmowej aplikacji Legimi na: WHEN Bill came back for long-leave that autumn half, ebopk had before him a complicated programme of entertainment.

But there it was, growing in a grassy patch by the side of the lane, and under it sat an old man. Now a farthing is not a common coin, but Bill happened to have one—a gift from Peter on his arrival that bullernyn, along with a brass cannon, five empty cartridges, a broken microscope, and a badly-printed, brightly-illustrated narrative called Two Villains Foiled.

He drove his new stick into the ground, and used the handle as a seat, while he rested his gun bulleryn the orthodox way in the crook of his arm. It was short and heavy, and made of some dark foreign wood; and instead of a crook it had a handle shaped like a crescent, cut out of a white substance which was neither bullerbun nor ivory. Bill had to run to catch up Thomas, who was plodding along with the dogs, now returned from their engagement.

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Also he heard snipe, but he could not locate them in the dim weather. Thomas, who had a sharp eye for poachers and vagabonds, did not stop to question him, but walked on as if he did not see him—which should have warned Bill that something queer was afoot. But they were not coming to him, bullerbgn he realised what was happening. In the first half-mile he met two magpies, and this should have told him that something was going to happen.


He was a funny little wizened old dzkeci, in a shabby long green overcoat which had once been black; and he wore on his head the oldest and tallest and greenest bowler hat that ever graced a human head. Had Bill been on his guard he would have realised that the hornbeam had no business there, and that he had never seen it before.

He seemed to know what was wanted, for he at once took a stick from his bundle. dzifci

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Thomas cast a puzzled glance at the stick. Yet Bill, as soon as he saw it, felt that it was the one stick in the world for him. From the misty waters came the rumour of many wildfowl. But Bill stopped, for he saw dzieic the old man had a bundle under his arm, a bundle of ancient umbrellas and odd, ragged sticks. He thought he saw duck moving. You would not have said that it was the kind of stick that Rbook was looking for.

There seemed to be redshank calling, too, which had no business there, for they should have been on the shore marshes. The first shadow of a cloud appeared after luncheon, when he had changed into knickerbockers and Thomas and the dogs were waiting by the gun-room door. buloerbyn

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Bill began his vigil in high excitement. On Monday morning, after a walk with the dogs, he was to motor to London, lunch with Aunt Alice, and then, after a noble tea, return to school in time for lock-up.

The minutes passed, the grey afternoon sky darkened towards twilight, but no duck came. Pobierz fragment dostosowany na: Thomas, the keeper, whom he revered more than anyone else in the world, was to take him in the afternoon to try for a duck in the big marsh called Alemoor. As soon as they saw it they went off to keep another urgent engagement—this time apparently with a long-distance hare—and Thomas was yelling and whistling for ten minutes before he brought them to heel.


It was a long hazel staff, given him by the second stalker at Glenmore the year before—a staff rather taller than Bill, a glossy hazel, with a shapely polished crook, and without a ferrule, like all good stalking-sticks.

Nor would he accept a knobbly cane proffered by Peter. He would cut himself an ashplant in the first hedge. It was rather cold, and very wet under foot, for a lot of rain had fallen in the past week, and the mere, which was usually only a sedgy pond, had now grown to a great expanse of shallow flood-water.

The lane ran bare between stone walls up to the hill pastures.

He hunted for it high and low, but it could not be found. Yes, he was certain of it—they were coming from the direction beook Thomas and the dogs. They both looked back, but there was no sign of any old man in the green lane.

Our hero is a teenage boy who buys a walking stick from a beggar — a magic walking stick that allows the boy to visit many places at his command Peter was a famous giver. Then, as he and Thomas ambled down the lane which led to Alemoor, they came upon an old man sitting under a hornbeam. It was quite as tall as the topper which Bill wore at school.

Feeling a little aggrieved and imperfectly equipped, he rushed out to join Thomas.

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It is right to take off dzici cap to a single magpie, or to three, or to five, but never to an even number, for an even number means mischief. Please purchase full version of the book to continue. Ebooka przeczytasz w aplikacjach Legimi na: