[Brownsmith’s Boy by George Manville Fenn]@TWC D-Link bookBrownsmith’s Boy CHAPTER ONE 3/3
After an hour's hard work at weeding, without paying the slightest heed to my presence, he would suddenly jump up as if resenting my watching, catch up the basket, and make believe to hurl it at me.
Perhaps he would pick up a great clod and pretend to throw that, but let it fall beside him; while one day, when I went to the window and looked out, I found him with a good-sized switch which had been the young shoot of a pear tree, and a lump of something of a yellowish brown tucked in the fork of a tree close by where he worked. He had a basket by his side and was busily engaged as usual weeding, for there was a great battle for ever going on in that garden, where the weeds were always trying to master the flowers and vegetables, and that boy's duty seemed to be to tear up weeds by the roots, and nothing else. But there by his side stuck in the ground was the switch, and as soon as he saw me at the window he gave a look round to see if he was watched, and then picked up the stick. "I wonder what he is going to do!" I thought, as I twisted the glass a little and had a good look. He was so near that the glass was not necessary, but I saw through it that he pinched off a bit of the yellowish-brown stuff, which was evidently clay, and, after rolling it between his hands, he stuck what seemed to be a bit as big as a large taw marble on the end of the switch, gave it a flourish, and the bit of clay flew off. I could not see where it went, but I saw him watching it, as he quickly took another piece, kneaded it, and with another flourish away that flew. That bit evidently went over our house; and the next time he tried--_flap_! the piece struck the wall somewhere under the window. Five times more did he throw, the clay flying swiftly, till all at once _thud_! came a pellet and stuck on the window pane just above my head. I looked up at the flattened clay, which was sticking fast, and then at that boy, who was down on his knees again weeding away as hard as he could weed, but taking no more notice of me, and I saw the reason: his master was coming down the garden..
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