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In the first half-mile he met two magpies, and this should have told him that something was going to happen. Ebooka przeczytasz w aplikacjach Legimi na: He hunted for it high and low, but it could not be found.
This seemed to Bill to be all that could be desired in the way of excitement. Far away he thought he detected the purring noise which Thomas made to stir the duck, but no overhead beat of wings followed. Przeczytaj fragment w darmowej aplikacji Legimi na: He scrambled up the bank of the dyke and strained his eyes over the mere between the bare boughs of the thorn. Please purchase full version of the book to continue. It was a long hazel staff, given him by the second stalker at Glenmore the year before—a staff rather taller than Bill, a glossy hazel, with a shapely dziexi crook, and without a ferrule, like all good stalking-sticks.
I bought this stick from him.
Editions of Die Kinder aus Bullerbü by Astrid Lindgren
But Bill, looking out for ashplants, was heedless, and had uncovered his head before he remembered the rule. It was quite as tall as the topper which Bill wore at school. From the misty waters came the rumour of many wildfowl. But Bill stopped, for he saw that the old man had a bundle under his arm, a bundle of ancient umbrellas and odd, ragged sticks.
Thomas, the keeper, whom he revered more than anyone else in the world, was to take him in the afternoon to try for a duck in the big marsh called Alemoor. Yet Bill, as soon as he saw it, felt that it was the one stick in the world for him.
It is right to take off your cap to a single magpie, or to three, or to five, but never to an even number, for an even number means mischief. Next day, which was Sunday, would be devoted dziei wandering about with Peter, hearing from him all the appetising home news, and pouring into his greedy ears the gossip of the foreign world of school.
Bill saw a wedge of geese high up in the air and longed to salute them. It was so very quiet down there by the dyke that Bill began to feel eerie. It was rather cold, and very wet under foot, for a lot of rain had fallen in the past week, and the mere, which was usually only a sedgy pond, had now grown to a dsieci expanse of shallow flood-water.
He would cut himself an ashplant in the first hedge. But there it was, growing in a grassy patch by the side of the lane, and under it sat an old man. They both looked back, but there was no sign of beook old man in the green lane. There seemed to be redshank calling, too, which had no business there, for they should have been eboook the shore marshes.
Bill had to run to catch up Thomas, who was plodding along with the dogs, now returned from their engagement. Our hero is a teenage boy who buys a walking stick from a beggar — a magic walking stick that allows the boy to visit many places at his command Also Gyp, the spaniel, and Shawn, the Irish setter, at the sight of him dropped their tails between their legs and remembered an engagement a long way off.
A farthing sounded too little, so Bill proffered one of his scanty shillings.
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He was a funny little wizened old man, in a shabby long green overcoat which had once been black; and he wore on his head the oldest and tallest and greenest bowler hat that ever graced a human head. But he said no more, for Bill had shaken it playfully at the dogs. Bill began his vigil in high excitement.
Feeling a little aggrieved and imperfectly equipped, he rushed out to join Thomas. Bill could not find his own proper stick.
zz But they were not coming to him, and he realised what was happening. Had Bill been on his guard he would have realised that the hornbeam had no business there, and that he had never seen it before. The mood of eager anticipation died away, and he grew rather despondent.
There was far too much water on the moor, and the birds, instead of flighting across the mere to the boundary slopes, were simply settling on the flood. As soon as they saw it they went off to keep another urgent dziefi time apparently with a long-distance hare—and Thomas was yelling and whistling for ten minutes before he brought them to heel. Thomas, who had eboook sharp eye for poachers and vagabonds, did not stop to question him, but walked on as if he did not see him—which should have warned Bill that something queer was afoot.
But he did not know just how exciting that long-leave was destined to be.
The lane ran bare between stone walls up to the hill pastures. The first shadow of a cloud appeared after luncheon, when he had changed into knickerbockers and Thomas and the dogs were waiting by the gun-room door.