man. And Diggory thought he looked nastier than ever.
So he said: 'Well?'
And the old man said: 'Not at all! However, since you had the sense not to fall off wrong way, I suppose you're the boy I want. Now, look here, you throw me down those ten big apples, one by one, so that I can catch them, and I'll let you go out by the Apple Door that no one but me has the key of.'
'Why don't you pick them yourself?' Diggory asked.
'I'm too old; you know very well that old men don't climb trees. Come, is it a bargain?'
'I don't know,' said the boy; 'there are lots of apples you can reach without climbing. Why do you want these so particularly?'
As he spoke, he picked one of the apples and threw it up and caught it. I say up, but it was down instead, because of the apple-tree being so very much enchanted.
'Oh, dont!' the old man squeaked like a rat in a trap—'don't drop it! Throw it down to me, you nasty slack-baked, smock-frocked son of a speckled toad!'
Diggory's blood boiled at hearing his father called a toad.
