lump of mistletoe in the next tree, which was a beech: he saw that Martin and Tom were busy with the climbing-irons, and couldn't resist the temptation of hoaxing. Arthur stared and wondered more than ever,
"Well, how -curious! it doesn't look a bit like what I expected," said he.
"Very odd birds, kestrels," said East, looking waggishly at his victim, who was still star-gazing.
"But I thought it was in a fir-tree?" objected Arthur.
"Ah, don't you know? that's a new sort of fir which old Caldecott brought from the Himalayas."
"Really!" said Arthur; "I'm glad I know that—how unlike our firs they are! They do very well too here, don't they? the Spinney's full of them."
"What's that humbug he's telling you?" cried Tom, looking up, having caught the word Himalayas, and suspecting what East was after.
"Only about this fir," said Arthur, putting his hand on the stem of the beech.
"Fir!" shouted Tom, "why, you don't mean to say, young un, you don't know a beech when you see one?"
Poor little Arthur looked terribly ashamed, and East exploded in laughter which made the wood ring.
"I've hardly ever seen any trees," faltered Arthur.
"What a shame to hoax him, Scud!" cried Martin. "Never mind, Arthur, you shall know more about trees than he does in a week or two."
"And isn't that the kestrel's nest then?" asked Arthur.
"That! why, that's a piece of mistletoe. There's the nest, that lump of sticks up this fir."
