"Come, come," said Dick, suddenly checking his mirth, "we mustn't
play, pup, we must work."
Drawing a leathern mitten from his belt, the youth held it to Crusoe's
nose, and then threw it a yard away, at the same time exclaiming in a
loud, distinct tone, "Fetch it."
Crusoe entered at once into the spirit of this part of his training;
he dashed gleefully at the mitten, and proceeded to worry it with
intense gratification. As for "Fetch it," he neither understood the
words nor cared a straw about them.
Dick Varley rose immediately, and rescuing the mitten, resumed his
seat on a rock.
"Come here, Crusoe," he repeated.
"Oh! certainly, by all means," said Crusoe--no! he didn't exactly
_say_ it, but really he _looked_ these words so evidently that we
think it right to let them stand as they are written. If he could have
finished the sentence, he would certainly have said, "Go on with that
game over again, old boy; it's quite to my taste--the jolliest thing
in life, I assure you!" At least, if we may not positively assert that
he would have said that, no one else can absolutely affirm that he
wouldn't.
Pages:
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56