My dooty to your mamma, and I hope she'll be better.
Shake hands." I held out my hand and grasped his warmly as we reached the gate, seeing Shock watching me all the time.

Then as I stood outside old Brownsmith laughed and nodded.
"Mind how you pack your strawberries," he said with a laugh; "bad 'uns at bottom, good 'uns at top.

Good-bye, youngster, good-bye.".