Part 3 (1/2)
”Do you see that gra.s.s field?” he asked.
”Yes, dear.”
”Well, do you know who lives there?”
”No, Harry.”
”Towsie.”
”And who is Towsie?”
”Why, silly Guvie, Towsie is Towsie, of course; Towsie is his Christian name; Jock, I suppose, is his papa's name. Towsie Jock, there now!”
”What nonsense _are_ you talking, dear?” said Miss Campbell.
”Why, telling you about Towsie Jock, to be sure. Towsie Jock is _so_ funny, and what faces he makes when I make faces at him! Mind you, Guvie, I don't think he quite likes to be called Towsie Jock. And _I_ wouldn't either, would you, dear Guvie?”
”I haven't the remotest idea, Harry, what it is all about, nor who or what Towsie Jock, as you call him, or _it_, is.”
”Oh, haven't you, Guvie? Well, you shall see. Mind you it isn't a hedgehog. Something, oh, ever so much bigger.”
As he spoke Harry slipped like an eel down from the tree. He accomplished this by sliding out to the tip of the branch, out and out till it bent with his light weight, and dropped him on the ground.
Harry went straight to the gate, the top bar of which he had previously, in one of his lonely rambles, taken the precaution to tie down. He looked now to see that the fastening was all secure, then commenced to shout.
”Towsie Jock! Towsie Jock! Towsie! Towsie! Towsie!”
Jock was at a distant corner of the field, his favourite corner, on high ground, where he could see the country for miles around. He was standing there chewing his cud and looking at the sky. Perhaps he was wondering what kind of a day it was to be to-morrow.
Suddenly he thrust one ear back to listen.
”Towsie! Towsie!” came the shout in shrill treble.
”It is that monkey again,” said Towsie, to himself. ”If I can only pin one horn through him, I'll carry him all round and round the field, at the gallop too.”
Miss Campbell, from the tree, first heard a dreadful bellowing roar, which ended in one continuous stream of hoa.r.s.e explosions, as it were.
”Wow-ow-ow-ow-ow-ow-ow-ow,” and next moment, to her horror, she saw a gigantic horrid homed bull coming tearing towards the gate, his nose on the ground, and his tail like a corkscrew over his back.
”Harry, Harry!” she screamed. ”Oh! fly, Harry, fly!”
”He can't get over, Guvie,” cried Harry, coolly. ”Let me introduce you, as papa says. That is Towsie Jock. Towsie! Towsie! Towsie Jock!
Towsie Jock!”
”Wow-ow-ow-ow-ow-ow!”
On came the bull as mad as ever bull was.
Miss Campbell shouted again, and screamed with terror.