Then Dudley sprang to his feet.
"I like you coming in to tell me to be quiet, and then beginning a fight
at once! Do shut up! You've quite spoilt my last letter!"
"Well, what are you doing?"
"I'm carving my name in the corner here, just below my father's."
Roy looked with curiosity at Dudley's handiwork.
"Yes, your M is very crooked; but I wouldn't choose to write my name on
the wainscoting. It's too low down. I like to be at the top of
everything. Now if you carved it on the ceiling that would be something
like!"
"You're always wanting to do impossibilities!"
"I should like to have a try at them," rejoined Roy, quickly. "I hate
everything that is easy. Now come on, do! and we'll have a good gallop
over the down!"
Half an hour later and the boys were tearing through the village on
their ponies, and were soon out on an open expanse of heather and grass.
Roy was in the midst of an eloquent harangue on all he was going to do
when he was grown up, when Dudley suddenly came to a standstill.
"Something is the matter with Hazel. I believe she's going lame. Oh, I
see, one of her shoes is loose! Now what are we to do!"
He sprang off his pony as he spoke, and looked perplexed at this
calamity.
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