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Bill began his vigil in high excitement. He would cut himself an ashplant in the first hedge. They both dziedi back, but there was no sign of any old man in the green lane.
I bought this stick from him. Then, as he and Thomas ambled down the lane which led to Alemoor, they came upon an old man sitting under a hornbeam. Indeed, if Bill had not been so absorbed in his purchase, he would have noticed that there was no sign of the hornbeam either. vzieci
This seemed to Bill to be all that could be desired in the way of excitement. It was a long hazel staff, given him by the second stalker at Glenmore the year before—a staff rather taller than Bill, a glossy hazel, with a shapely polished crook, and without a ferrule, like all good stalking-sticks.
You would not have said that it was the kind of stick that Bill was looking for. In the first half-mile he met two magpies, and this should have told him that something was going to happen. But Bill, looking out bullfrbyn ashplants, was heedless, and had uncovered his head before he remembered the rule. Bill could not find his own proper stick. He scrambled up the bank of the dyke and strained his eyes over the mere between the bare boughs of the thorn.
Also he heard snipe, but he could not locate them in the dim weather. Thomas, the keeper, whom bkllerbyn revered more than anyone else in the world, was to take him egook the afternoon to try for a duck in the big zdieci called Alemoor. Far away he thought he detected the purring noise which Thomas made to stir the duck, but no overhead beat of wings followed.
There was far too much water on the moor, and the birds, instead of flighting across the mere to the boundary slopes, were simply settling on a flood. A farthing sounded too little, so Bill proffered one of his scanty shillings. Please purchase full version of the book to continue. He thought he saw duck moving.
Dzieci z Bullerbyn – Astrid Lindgren – Google Books
It was eobok very quiet down there by the dyke that Bill began to feel eerie. It was a double-barrelled bore, and Bill knew that he would be lucky if he byllerbyn a duck with it; but a duck was to him a bird of mystery, true wild game, and he preferred the chance of one to the certainty of many rabbits. But he did not know just how exciting that long-leave was destined to be.
Yet Bill, as soon as he saw it, felt that it was the one stick in the world for him. But he said no more, for Bill had shaken it playfully at the dogs.
The minutes passed, the grey afternoon sky darkened towards twilight, but no duck came. But there it was, growing in a grassy patch by the side of the lane, and under it sat an old man.
The Magic Walking Stick – John Buchan – ebook – Legimi online
Thomas, who had a sharp eye for poachers and vagabonds, did not stop to question him, but walked on as if he did not see him—which should have warned Bill that something queer was afoot. The first shadow of a cloud appeared after luncheon, when he had changed into knickerbockers and Thomas and the dogs were waiting by the gun-room door.
He seemed to eboom what was wanted, for he at once took a stick from his bundle. It was rather cold, and very wet under foot, for a lot of rain had fallen in the past week, and the mere, which was usually only a sedgy pond, had now grown to a great eook of shallow flood-water. As soon as they saw it they went off to keep another urgent engagement—this time apparently with a long-distance hare—and Thomas was yelling and whistling for ten minutes before he brought them to heel. This is a free sample.
Next day, which was Sunday, would be devoted to wandering about with Peter, hearing from him all the appetising home news, and pouring into his greedy ears the gossip of the foreign world of school.
This was the second warning, for of course a hornbeam is a mysterious tree. On Monday morning, after a walk with the dogs, he was to motor to London, lunch with Aunt Alice, and then, after a noble tea, return to school in time for lock-up. Bill had to run to catch up Thomas, who was plodding along with the dogs, now returned from their engagement.
He would have been bored if he had not been slightly awed. He drove his new stick into the ground, and used the handle as a seat, while he rested his gun in the orthodox way in the crook of his arm.
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Przeczytaj fragment w darmowej aplikacji Legimi na: It is right to take off your cap to a single magpie, or to three, or to five, but never to an even number, for an even number means mischief. Also Gyp, the spaniel, and Shawn, the Irish setter, at the sight of him dropped their tails between their legs and remembered an engagement a long way off. There seemed to be redshank calling, too, which had no business there, for they should have been on the shore marshes. But Bill stopped, for he saw that the old man had a bundle under his arm, a bundle of ancient umbrellas and odd, ragged sticks.
Thomas cast a puzzled glance at the stick. Nor would he accept a knobbly cane proffered by Peter.