"I think it's coming down now," said Miss Kitty.
But in a quarter of a minute, Cocky had sailed a quarter of a mile, and
was rocking himself on the top of an old willow-tree. And at this moment
John Broom joined the crowd which followed him.
"I'm thinking he's got his chain fast," said the farm-bailiff; "if
onybody that understood the beastie daured to get near him----"
"I'll get him," said John Broom, casting down his hat.
"Ye'll get yer neck thrawed," said the farm-bailiff.
"We won't hear of it," said the little ladies.
But to their horror, John Broom kicked off his shoes, after which he
spat upon his hands (a shock which Miss Kitty thought she never could
have survived), and away he went up the willow.
It was not an easy tree to climb, and he had one or two narrow escapes,
which kept the crowd breathless, but he shook the hair from his eyes,
moistened his hands afresh, and went on. The farm-bailiff's far-away
heart was stirred. No Scotchman is insensible to gallantry. And courage
is the only thing a "canny" Scot can bear to see expended without
return.
"John Broom," screamed Miss Betty, "come down! I order, I command you to
come down."
The farm-bailiff drew his speckled hat forward to shade his upward gaze,
and folded his arms.
"Dinna call on him, leddies," he said, speaking more quickly than usual.
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