"Why, it wouldn't bear me! We should go to the bottom."
"Oh! nonsense, Mansy! Why, don't you remember at the seaside regatta, last year men had a race in tubs?"
"Ah! but I'm—I'm—heavier than them men," said Mansy thoughtfully, looking down on her ample proportions.
"The tub is big," exclaimed Alfy. "It is the biggest we have. We had a work to get it out of the window; and it made such a splash! Come on, dear Mansy!"
"I wouldn't do it for nobody but you, Master Alfy!"
"Well, do it for me then, Mansy. I'll take care of you; see if I don't."
"Anyhow, the parcels might go in. There's something there nice, Alfy,—a tongue—a nice Paysandoo; and some jam—blackberry and apple mixed, and some biscuits."
"Oh! jolly! treat! Come on, dear Mansy, let's be quick back."
"Has not the butcher come?" asked the old nurse.
"No; no tradesmen could cross over from the village, nor yet the postman, and we expected a letter from mother and father. We are all surrounded by water in the house, just like an island. 'The Island House' Madge called it!"