CHAPTER XV.
oulton broad.
“My nose is wearing away with one dreadful drop.”
“Then open your mouth and catch it. Oh!”
“What’s the matter?”
“A drop went splash into my eye!”
We made merry for a time, but presently it clearly became a case of “a drop too much,” and we sat up in despair. Just as things were getting uncomfortably wet, the storm passed off, and the morning dawned with a wondrous clearness and brilliance, while the air was full of the sweet, earthy scents that arise after rain. The reeds were fresher and greener, and the grasses and flowers glittered in the sun, like the radiant ripples on the water. And so, amid the songs of birds and the quickened joy of nature, we bowled along down the Waveney at a merry pace, and in two hours we had reached the mouth of Oulton Dyke, the sharp turn into which necessitated a heavy gibe.
