As soon as
they were clear of the houses, Shargar lay down behind a dyke with
the kite, and Robert set off at full speed for Dooble Sanny's shop,
making a half-circuit of the town to avoid the chance of being seen
by grannie or Betty. Having given due warning before, he found the
brown-paper parcel ready for him, and carried it off in fearful
triumph. He joined Shargar in safety, and they set out on their
journey as rich and happy a pair of tramps as ever tramped, having
six weeks of their own in their pockets to spend and not spare.
A hearty welcome awaited them, and they were soon revelling in the
glories of the place, the first instalment of which was in the shape
of curds and cream, with oatcake and butter, as much as they liked.
After this they would 'e'en to it like French falconers' with their
kite, for the wind had been blowing bravely all the morning, having
business to do with the harvest. The season of stubble not yet
arrived, they were limited to the pasturage and moorland, which,
however, large as their kite was, were spacious enough. Slowly the
great-headed creature arose from the hands of Shargar, and ascended
about twenty feet, when, as if seized with a sudden fit of wrath or
fierce indignation, it turned right round and dashed itself with
headlong fury to the earth, as if sooner than submit to such
influences a moment longer it would beat out its brains at once.
'It hasna half tail eneuch,' cried Robert.
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