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“Not a bit,” said John. “It was the fault of the postmaster’s boys entirely. See what I’ve got.” And Johnny Blossom took his English boatswain’s whistle out and blew it, with beaming face.,They had crossed the river and were going down stream. Here there was a gentle rise in the ground. About halfway to the top of this hill the Indian motioned them to stay where they were and then, taking their obedience for granted, dropped on hands and knees and started to crawl rapidly the remainder of the way.,“Such rough shaking, I don’t like. You must pick the apples.”,“Getting a little interesting,” ventured Bob.,“Then that was what you meant when you told us that the laborers wouldn’t be any bother, was it?” asked Bob.,“Yes. Perfectly sure.”,But though kites were great fun, there was something else Tellef and he had thought of. They had not done it yet, but they had often talked about it; and their plan was that some day, when there was a good brisk wind, they should take that enormous, old-fashioned umbrella Tellef’s grandmother had, and use it for a sail! It would work beautifully.,Mother began to cry again, and there came a lump in Johnny Blossom’s throat. No, he would not cry. Big boys ought never to cry.,“Indeed,” said Mother.,Happening to see his new paint-box with its enticing cakes of paint of all colors, Johnny Blossom in his night gown and bare feet was soon wholly absorbed in mixing paint.,CHAPTER XIV,All at once it had become very impressive in there with Uncle Isaac, who seemed to have forgotten him and continued gazing up into the sky. Johnny Blossom turned and fidgeted in his seat. “I’ve got to go,” he said suddenly..