[First in the Field by George Manville Fenn]@TWC D-Link bookFirst in the Field CHAPTER ONE 4/9
"You can't keep these things quiet. Pretends his father is a settler.
Yes; the judge settled him for life." The boy looked round for applause, and received it sufficiently to make him go on with his banter. "Just as if we weren't sure to find out the truth.
Calls him a squatter.
Yes; the government made him squat pretty quickly." There was another laugh as the boys wandered on along the edge of the great common, where the quickset hedge divided it from the cultivated land, high above which a lark was circling and singing with all its might. "I want to know why the doctor lets him stop amongst gentlemen's sons." "I know, Bry Green," said a mischievous-looking, dark-eyed boy; "it's because his father pays." "He wouldn't be here long if his father didn't," said Green laughingly. "Unless he supplied the doctor with sugar and soap and candles and soda and blue." There was a roar of laughter once more, in which Dominic Braydon joined, and Green turned so suddenly on the last speaker that the young thrushes were nearly jerked out of the nest. "Do you want me to give you a wipe on the mouth, Tomlins ?" cried the boy angrily. "Oh no, sir; please don't, sir," was the reply, with a display of mock horror and dread; "only you said gentlemen's sons, sir,--and I thought what a pity it was Nic Braydon's father wasn't a grocer." "My father's a wholesale dealer in the City," said Green loftily; "and it's only as a favour that he lets old Dunham have things from his warehouse at trade price." "Ho, ho, ho! here's a game!" cried the dark boy, throwing himself down on the velvety turf and kicking out his legs in his delight. "My father isn't a poor parson," continued Green contemptuously; "and if any of you fellows like to call on me during the holidays, any one will show you Alderman Green's big house on Clapham Common.
We keep a butler, footman, coachman, and three gardeners." "And the gardeners make all the beds," said Tomlins, at which there was another laugh. "You're a little idiot, Tomlins," said Green loftily. "Yes, sir; but I can't help it," said the boy meekly.
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