Oh, I say, what a while he is! He's just like old Teggley Grey's horse, only he ain't so quick." Poor old Bigley wasn't quick, certainly, for it was hot, and hard climbing to where we were perched.

To have come straight up was next to impossible: the only way was to come sidewise, getting a little higher as you walked along; and toiling industriously at his task, Bigley at last reached the foot of the piled-up mass where we were waiting.
"Oh, I say, come up.

Be quick.

What a while you have been!" said Bob.
"Got it ?" "Oh, it's all very well to talk," panted Bigley wiping his forehead, "sitting down there so quietly.

It's hot." "Never mind about it's being so hot," cried Bob.