“Oh, if you would,” cried Arthur, clapping his hands, “how happy we should be! Do you know, father, I have often sat for an hour at a time up in that crab-tree, looking at Maurice at work in his garden, and wishing that I was at work with him.” Here Arthur was interrupted by the attorney, who came to ask Mr. Oakly some question about the lawsuit concerning the plum-tree. Oakly showed him Maurice’s letter; and to Arthur’s extreme astonishment, the attorney had no sooner read it, than he exclaimed, “What an artful little gentleman this is! I never, in the course of all my practice, met with anything better. Why, this is the most cunning letter I ever read.” “Where’s the cunning?” said Oakly, and he put on his spectacles. “My good sir, don’t you see, that all this stuff about Brobdingnag raspberries is to ward off your suit about the plum-tree? They know—that is, Mr. Grant, who is sharp enough, knows—that he will be worsted in that suit; that he must, in short, pay you a good round sum for damages, if it goes on—” “Damages!” said Oakly, staring round him at the plum-tree; “but I don’t know what you mean. I mean nothing but what’s honest. I don’t mean to ask for any good round sum; for the plum-tree has done me no great harm by coming into my garden; but only I don’t choose it should come there without my leave.” “Well, well,” said the attorney, “I understand all that; but what I want to make you, Mr. Oakly, understand, is, that this Grant and his son only want to make up matters with you, and prevent the thing’s coming to a fair trial, by sending on, in this underhand sort of way, a bribe of a few raspberries.” “A bribe!” exclaimed Oakly, “I never took a bribe, and I never will”; and, with sudden indignation, he pulled the raspberry plants from the ground in which Arthur was planting them; and he threw them over the wall into Grant’s garden. Maurice had put his tulip, which was beginning to blow, in a flower-pot, on the top of the wall, in hopes that his friend Arthur would see it from day to day. Alas! he knew not in what a dangerous situation he had placed it. One of his own Brobdingnag raspberry-plants, swung by the angry arm of Oakly, struck off the head of his precious tulip! Arthur, who was full of the thought of convincing his father that the attorney was mistaken in his judgment of poor Maurice, did not observe the fall of the tulip.