followed, through the foliage, the progress of the contest. But when the policeman, in a fit of fury, had made a sally on the old crones outside, Pedro Ohlsen, left alone in the garden, walked straight under the tree, looked up, and called out:—
“Come down this moment, you wretch!”
There was heard not the slightest sound from the tree.
“Will you come down, I say? I know you are up there!”
The most profound silence!
“I will go into the house for my gun and shoot up at you; yes, I will!”
He made a movement to go.
“Booh-hooh-hooh!” come from the tree.
“Oh, you may bawl as much as you please, for I am going to put a whole charge of shot into you up there; I can tell you!”
“Oh, booh-hooh-hooh-hooh!” came in owl-like tones. “I am so frightened.”
“Oh, the deuce you are! You are the worst mischief-maker of the whole lot; but I have you now!”
“Oh, you dear, good, kind man, you! I will never do so any more.”
And with this she aimed a rotten apple right at his nose, and a ringing peal of laughter fol-
