The laugh that followed showed that the story of Tim's triumph over the
champion had gone abroad.
"Oh, rot!" said Perkins angrily. "Tim's got a little too perky because I
let him get ahead of me one night in a drill of turnips."
"Yeh done yer best, didn't he, Webster?" cried Tim with indignation.
"Well, he certainly was making some pretty big gashes in them drills,"
said Webster slowly.
"Oh, get out!" replied Perkins. "Though all the same Tim's quite a
turnip-hoer," he conceded. "Hello! There's quite a crowd in the barn,
Danny. I wish I had my store clothes on."
At this a girl came running to meet them.
"Come on, Danny! Tune up. I can hardly keep my heels on my boots."
"Oh, you'll not be wanting my little fiddle after you have heard Cameron
on the pipes, Isa."
"Never you fear that, Danny," replied Isa, catching him by the arm and
hurrying him onward.
"Wait a minute. I want you to meet Mr. Cameron," said Danny.
"Come away, then," replied Isa. "I am dying to get done with it and get
the fiddle going."
But Cameron was in the meantime engaged, for Mack was busy introducing
him to a bevy of girls who stood at one corner of the barn floor.
"My! but he's a braw lad!" said Isa gayly, as she watched Cameron making
his bows.
"Yes, he is that," replied Danny with enthusiastic admiration, "and a
hammer-thrower, too, he is.
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