They were pretty good, on the whole, though they chattered a good deal; but Gardener said not a word to them all the way to the orchard. When they reached it, he just told them to "keep out of his way and not worrit him," which they politely promised, saying among themselves that they should not enjoy their cherry-gathering at all. But children who make the best of things, and try to be as good as they can, sometimes have fun unawares. When the Gardener was steadying his ladder against the trunk of the cherry tree, there was suddenly heard the barking of a dog, and a very fierce dog, too. First it seemed close beside them, then in the flower garden, then in the fowl yard. Gardener dropped the ladder out of his hands. "It's that Boxer! He has got loose again! He will be running after my chickens, and dragging his broken chain all over my borders. And he is so fierce, and so delighted to get free. He'll bite anybody who ties him up, except me." "Hadn't you better go and see after him?" Gardener thought it was the eldest boy who spoke, and turned around angrily; but the little fellow had never opened his lips. Here there was heard a still louder bark, and from a quite different part of the garden. "There he is--I'm sure of it! jumping over my bedding-out plants, and breaking my cucumber frames. Abominable beast!--just let me catch him!" Off Gardener darted in a violent passion, throwing the ladder down upon the grass, and forgetting all about the cherries and the children. The instant he was gone, a shrill laugh, loud and merry, was heard close by, and a little brown old man's face peeped from behind the cherry tree. "How d'ye do?--Boxer was me. Didn't I bark well? Now I'm come to play with you." The children clapped their hands; for they knew that they were going to have some fun if Brownie was there--he was the best little playfellow in the world. And then they had him all to themselves. Nobody ever saw him except the children. "Come on!" cried he, in his shrill voice, half like an old man's, half like a baby's. "Who'll begin to gather the cherries?" They all looked blank; for the tree was so high to where the branches sprung, and besides, their mother had said that they were not to climb. And the ladder lay flat upon the grass--far too heavy for little hands to move. "What! you big boys don't expect a poor little fellow like me to lift the ladder all by myself? Try! I'll help you." Whether he helped or not, no sooner had they taken hold of the ladder than it rose up, almost of its own accord, and fixed itself quite safely against the tree. "But we must not climb--mother told us not," said the boys ruefully. "Mother said we were to stand at the bottom and pick up the cherries." "Very well. Obey your mother. I'll just run up the tree myself." Before the words were out of his mouth Brownie had darted up the ladder like a monkey, and disappeared among the fruit-laden branches.