[Fritz and Eric by John Conroy Hutcheson]@TWC D-Link book
Fritz and Eric

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR
7/10

"I fancy you have got a slight leaning that way, from what I recollect of you at home." "When I used to bother poor old Lorischen's life out of her, by running into the kitchen, eh ?" "Yes, I remember it well." "Ah, that was when I was young," said Eric, laughing.

"I wouldn't do it now, when I am grown up and know better!" "Grown up, indeed! you're a fine fellow to talk of being of age with your seventeen years, laddie!" "Never mind that," retorted Eric; "I mayn't be as old as you are; but, at all events, I flatter myself I know better how to cook than a sub- lieutenant of the Hanoverian Tirailleurs!" So saying, the lad proceeded to make a fire and put the kettle on in such a dexterous manner that it showed he was to the manner born, so to speak; Fritz helping to aid the progress of the breakfast by fetching water from a pool which the cascade had hollowed out for itself at the point where it finally leapt to level ground and betook itself to the sea in rivulet fashion.
The brothers only trenched on their stores to the extent of getting out some coffee and sugar, the remains of their supper being ample to provide them with their morning meal; and, after partaking of this, armed with their wheelbarrow and other agricultural implements, besides a bag of potatoes and some seed for planting, they sallied forth from the hut in the direction of the penguin colony.
Here, the Tristaner told them, they would find the best spot for a garden, the soil being not only richer and easier to cultivate but it was the only place that was free from rock, and not overrun by the luxuriant tussock-grass which spread over the rest of the land that was not thicket.
Proceeding to the right-hand side of the cliff under which their hut was built, they descended the somewhat sloping and broken ground that led in the direction of the penguin colony, the noise from which grew louder and louder as they advanced, until it culminated in a regular ear- deafening chorus.
When they had reached the distance of about a quarter of a mile, they came to a closely grown thicket, principally composed of a species of buckthorn tree that grew to the height of some thirty feet although of very slender trunk, underneath which was a mass of tangled grass and the same sort of debris from the cliff as that whereon their hut stood.

The place was overgrown with moss and beautiful ferns, while several thrushes were to be seen amongst the branches of the trees just like those at home, although the brothers did not think they sang as sweetly: they whistled more in the way of the blackbird.

The ground here, too, was quite honeycombed with the burrows of the little petrels, and into these their footsteps broke every moment.

It was odd to hear the muffled chirp and feel the struggling birds beneath their feet as they stepped over the grass-grown soil.


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