"Can't we manage between us, though, to carry some of them?" said Fred.
"This large basket is not nearly full, let us empty one of them into it.
There, now we have only left them two. I've got White's load. I've half
a mind to set it down, but no I won't though. You will carry John's,
Won't you, that's lighter, and between them they may carry the other."

They went on a few steps when they both turned to listen. "I thought,"
said Fred, "I heard my name called. It could only be fancy, though. Yet,
hush! There it is! quite plain," and so it was.

John called to him loudly to stop, and at that moment such a scream was
heard echoing through the woods, as sent the wood pigeons flying
terrified about, and started the hares from their hiding places. "Stop,
oh stop, Fred, White can't get down," said John, breathless, "and I
believe he will fall, if he hasn't already, he says he is giddy. Pray
come back and see if you can't help him, you are such a famous climber."

Fred could not refuse, and in less than five minutes he was on the spot,
but it was too late. The branch had given way, and the boy lay at the
foot of the tree senseless, to all appearance dead. There was no blood,
no outward sign of injury, but--his face! Fred did not forget for many
years afterwards, its dreadful, terrified, ghastly expression. What was
to be done? They were so horror-struck that for a few minutes they stood
in perfect silence, so powerfully were they convinced that the lad had
ceased to breathe, that they remained solemn and still as in the
presence of death.

To all minds death has great solemnities; to the young, when it strikes
one of their own age and number, especially. "Come," said Fred, turning