"
"Then," spoke up the fisherman, "we shall have Mrs. Carmichael and Mr.
Errol, Miss Halbert and Mr. Perrowne, the colonel and Miss Carruthers,
Mr. Terry and Miss Du Plessis, and, please Mrs. Carmichael, Marjorie and
me. Can ten get into one waggon?"
"O aye," replied the Squire, "the waggon'll haud nine, and Marjorie can
sit on Mr. Bigglethorpe's knees. Hi, Timotheus, get oot the biggest
waggon wi' three seats, quick, man!"
Once more, the mighty ham was carved into sandwiches, and others were
made of sardines and marmalade. Chickens were hastily roasted, and pies
and cakes, meant for dinner and tea, stowed away in baskets, with
bottles of ale and cider and milk, and materials for tea-making, and a
huge chunk of ice out of the ice-house, and a black bottle that Mr.
Terry eyed affectionately. "This is for you old men, grandpapa," said
Mrs. Carmichael to the veteran; "now, remember, none for these boys,
Errol and Perrowne." Mr. Terry replied: "To be sure, ma'am," but thought
in his heart, would it be him that would deprive the boys of a bit of
innocent recreation at such a time.
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