"I'll be done with mine first.
I'll get some more work done before I start back home." He sat down with his back against a tree.
"I'll call th' robin up," he said, "and give him th' rind o' th' bacon to peck at.

They likes a bit o' fat wonderful." Mary could scarcely bear to leave him.

Suddenly it seemed as if he might be a sort of wood fairy who might be gone when she came into the garden again.

He seemed too good to be true.

She went slowly half-way to the door in the wall and then she stopped and went back.
"Whatever happens, you--you never would tell ?" she said.
His poppy-colored cheeks were distended with his first big bite of bread and bacon, but he managed to smile encouragingly.
"If tha' was a missel thrush an' showed me where thy nest was, does tha' think I'd tell any one?
Not me," he said.