John and Harcourt were urging White, a delicate boy, and no climber, to
mount a high tree in the wood, to enjoy they said the glorious sea-view;
but in reality to make themselves merry at his expense, being certain
that if he managed to scramble up he would have some difficulty in
getting down, and would get a terrible fright at least. White stood at
the bottom of the tree, looking at his companions as they rode on one of
the higher branches of a fine spruce fir.

"Don't venture! White," shouted Fred as loudly as he could shout, "don't
attempt it! They only want to make game of you, and you'll never get
down if you manage to get up. Take my advice now, don't try."

"Mind your own business," and a large sod of earth was the reply. The
sod struck the boy on the face, and his nose bled profusely.

"There," said young Riches, "what a cowardly trick! Oh! I think White
the meanest spirited boy I ever saw. He wouldn't have flung that sod at
you if you had been within arm's length of him; well, I do dislike that
White."

"I'll give it to him," said Fred, as he vaulted over the fence, but
immediately words, which Emilie had once repeated to him when they were
talking about offensive and defensive warfare, came into his mind, and
he stopped short. Those words were:--"If any man smite thee on thy
right cheek turn to him the other also," and Fred was in the road again.

"Well," said Riches, "we have done and said all we can, let us be going
home, their disobeying orders is no excuse for us, so come along
Parker--won't you? They have a watch, and their blackberries won't run
away, I suppose."