``The ipe's been an' took my clothes,'' whined the boy,
with the passion of his kind for explaining the obvious.
His incomplete toilet effect rather embarrassed him, but he
hailed the arrival of Groby with relief, as promising moral
and material support in his efforts to get back his raided
garments. The monkey had ceased its defiant jabbering, and
doubtless with a little coaxing from its master it would
hand back the plunder.
``If I lift you up,'' suggested Groby, ``you will just be
able to reach the clothes.''
The boy agreed, and Groby clutched him firmly by the
waistcoat, which was about all there was to catch hold of,
and lifted him clear of the ground. Then, with a deft swing
he sent him crashing into a clump of tag nettles, which
closed receptively round him. The victim had not been
brought up in a school which teaches one to repress one's
emotions---if a fox had attempted to gnaw at his vitals he
would have flown to complain to the nearest hunt committee
rather than have affected an attitude of stoical
indifference. On this occasion the volume of sound which he
produced under the stimulus of pain and rage and
astonishment was generous and sustained, but above his
bellowings he could distinctly hear the triumphant
chattering of his enemy in the tree, and a peal of shrill
laughter from Groby.
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