Brown, you look seventeen!"
"Get along with you, now, do!" said the delighted Brownie. "You're no
better than you was, I'm afraid, Master Wally--alwuz ready for your
joke!"
"Joke!" exclaimed he, indignantly. "Any one who'd make a joke of you,
Brownie, would rob a church. Jim might, but I--"
"Perish the idea!" said Jim, tipping the orator's hat over his eyes.
"Come and take things out of the buggy."
Across the yard came Mr. Linton, surrounded by a mixed assemblage of
dogs. Puck and the collie had already hurled themselves upon Jim in a
delirium of joy. Cecil strolled after his uncle, looking slightly
amused at the scene by the gate.
"We're quite a family," Mr. Linton said. "I begin to feel like Mr.
Pickwick at a Christmas gathering! Do you think Billabong will stand
the crowd, Mrs. Brown?"
"It looks to me, sir," said Mrs. Brown contentedly, "as if Billabong's
goin' to 'ave the time of its life!"
CHAPTER VII
JIM UNPACKS
Holler-days
Were made for boys to holler!
Jim's room was a rather vast place, with two long windows opening upon
the balcony, two exceedingly plain iron bedsteads in different corners,
and in the midst a wide, vacant space, where a punching-ball was fixed
whenever the owner was at home. There was a very shabby old leather
armchair by one window, and near the other an even shabbier leather
couch, very wide and solid.
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