Even while he looked a big tear fell plump into the middle of A H; so the Doctor came quietly in and said,-- "Can't you manage it, Sam ?" Sam shook his head.
"Just give me hold of the book; will you, Sam ?" Sam complied without word or comment; the Doctor sent it flying through the open window, halfway down the garden.

"There!" said he, nodding his head, "that's the fit place for him this day: you've had enough of him at present; go and tell one of the blacks to dig some worms, and we'll make holiday and go a fishing." Sam looked at the Doctor, and then through the window at his old enemy lying in the middle of the flowerbed.

He did not like to see the poor book, so lately his master, crumpled and helpless, fallen from its high estate so suddenly.

He would have gone to its assistance, and picked it up and smoothed it, the more so as he felt that he had been beaten.
The Doctor seemed to see everything.

"Let it lie here, my child," he said; "you are not in a position to assist a fallen enemy; you are still the vanquished party.