CHAPTER TEN.
MY FIRST APPLE.
I had been working for about half an hour longer when I found I could get no more, and this time I went a little way and called Ike from where he was at work to move the ladder for me.
He came in a surly way, and then stared at me.
"Want me to move the ladder?
Why can't yer move it yerself ?" he grumbled.
"You know I'm not strong enough," I said.
"Ho! that's it, is it?
I thought you were such a great big cock-a-hoop sort of a chap that you could do anything.

Well, where's it to be ?" "Round the other side, I think," I said.
"No; this here's best," he cried, and whisking up the ladder I stood admiring his great brown arms and the play of the muscles as he carried the ladder as if it had been a straw, and planted it, after thrusting the intervening boughs aside with the top to get it against a stout limb.
"There you are, my lad," he said.

"Now, are you satisfied ?" "Yes; and thank you, Ike," I said quickly.

"And I'm very much obliged to you about wanting to take the blame upon yourself about the broken ladder and--" "Here, I can't stand listening to speeches with my plants a-shrivelling up in the sun.

Call me if you wants me agen." He gave me a curious look and went away, leaving me with the impression that I had thoroughly offended him now, and that I was a most unlucky boy.
I climbed the ladder again, picking as fast as I could to make up for lost time; and as the sun shone so hotly and I kept on picking the beautiful fruit with the bough giving and swaying so easily, I began to feel more at ease once more.